Hurricane Season Prep: Our 30-Day Countdown Checklist

May 5, 2026

June 1st is the official start, but the tropics don't read calendars. We've seen named storms in May. We've watched hurricanes spin up in two days in July. And we've learned that the cruisers who survive hurricane season aren't the ones with the best luck — they're the ones who started preparing before the first advisory.

This is our countdown. We've used it in Grenada, Trinidad, and the Chesapeake. It evolves every year based on what broke, what we forgot, and what the last storm taught us.

30 Days Out: The Big Decisions

This is when you decide where you're going to be. Not roughly. Specifically. Which marina, which mooring, or which hurricane hole. Because 30 days out, you still have options. 7 days out, you're taking what's left.

Decide: haul, moor, or run. Haul-out is safest if the yard is good. A mooring in a protected mangrove creek is second. Running south to Trinidad or Aruba is third. Staying at a dock in a questionable marina is last.
Book the haul-out slot. The good yards fill up by mid-May. If you're thinking about hauling in Grenada, call Clarke's Court now. If Trinidad, book Powerboats. Don't wait for a weather forecast.
Check your insurance. Does it require you to be south of a certain latitude? Does it require straps, stands, or a written hurricane plan? Get the paperwork now.
Service the engine. Fresh oil, new filters, new impeller, new belts. If you need to motor out of danger, the engine needs to start on the first try.
Test the generator. Same logic. If shore power fails, the generator runs the bilge pumps.
Inspect the rigging. A hurricane will find the weak shroud you ignored. Replace anything questionable now, while the rigger has time.

14 Days Out: The Gear

Two weeks is when you start accumulating the physical stuff. Some of it you can buy locally. Some needs to be ordered.

Hurricane straps (4–6). 2-inch nylon webbing with ratchets. These go over the boat and anchor to the ground or to concrete deadmen. We've seen boats survive Cat 3s because they were strapped down like a Christmas present.
Extra dock lines (4x, 5/8″ minimum). Doubling up everything. Spring lines, breast lines, snubbers. If one chafes through, the backup is already rigged.
Chafe gear. Leather, fire hose, or commercial chafe guards. At 80 knots, a dock line will saw through a chock in 20 minutes.
Fenders (extra 4). More than you think. We've seen boats survive because they had fenders hanging everywhere — on the dock side, on the neighbor side, on the pilings.
Bilge pump check. Primary, secondary, and manual. Test them all. Clean the strainers. Make sure the float switches work.
Anchor and rode. If you're on a mooring, set a second anchor. If you're in a hurricane hole, set three. Chain, not rope. Scope 10:1 minimum.
Remove everything loose. Bimini, dodger, sails, solar panels, wind generator, dinghy, outboard, kayak, grill, antennas, flags. If the wind can catch it, it will. And it will break something when it goes.

7 Days Out: The Details

One week is when the adrenaline starts. There's a named storm somewhere in the Atlantic and it's tracking west. Time to get specific.

Strip the deck. Everything off. Solar panels secured below or removed. Wind generator blades off or tied. Dinghy deflated and stored below, or towed to a separate secure location.
Close all seacocks. Except the cockpit drains. If the boat gets knocked down or submerged, closed seacocks limit flooding.
Seal the dorades and vents. Dorade boxes fill with water in horizontal rain. Vents blow off and let water into the engine room. Tape them, plug them, or remove them.
Secure the hatchboards. If you have drop-in boards, secure them with lines or bolts. If you have a washboard, tape the seams.
Fill the water tanks. Full tanks add weight low in the boat. They also give you fresh water if shore water fails.
Charge the batteries. Full banks. If shore power fails, you need power for bilge pumps for days.
Fill diesel and propane. You might need to motor. You might need to cook without shore power.
Print weather charts. Internet fails. Have paper backups of the track, the forecast, and your escape routes.

24 Hours Out: The Final Walk

This is the worst day. The storm is close enough that you can feel the pressure drop. The air is weird. The birds are quiet. You walk the boat one last time.

Double-check every line. Are the chafe guards in the right place? Are the cleats strong? Are the dock lines long enough for a 3-foot storm surge?
Take photos. For insurance. Every angle. Every line. Every piece of gear removed. Timestamp them.
Secure the anchor. If you're on a mooring, is the pendant long enough? Is the swivel sound? Is the anchor itself buried deep?
Check the neighbors. Is the derelict boat next to you going to break loose and become a missile? Talk to the marina. Talk to the owner. If you can't secure it, move your boat.
Have an exit plan. If the storm track shifts and you're in the wrong place, can you leave? Do you have fuel? Do you have a destination? Do you have time?
Leave. If you're not staying on the boat, leave early. Roads flood. Bridges close. Don't be the guy trying to drive through waist-deep water to check his lines.

After the Storm

Don't rush back. Wait for the all-clear. Then check: bilge, lines, chafe, water intrusion, damage from neighbors, mast and rigging, engine, electrical. Take more photos. Call your insurance. Start the repair process.

We've been through two hurricanes and three tropical storms. The boat survived all of them because we prepared. The preparation is boring. The storm is terrifying. But the aftermath — when you find your boat upright and floating — that's the reward.