By Dave Johnson

Force 1 - Wind speed 4 knots
Since my boat won't move in less than this, it seems a good place to start. Wife happy. Dog asleep. Boring. Starting the engine is all you can think about. Sea flat.
Force 2 - Wind speed 8 knots
Bow wave is noticeable if you look real hard. Boat heels a couple of degrees. Wife smiles - says "this is nice". Dog asleep. Still boring. Starting the engine fades from thoughts. Sea ripples.
Force 3 - Wind speed 12 knots
Leeward outrigger half submerged upwind. Angle of heel: more than wife is comfortable with (now not nearly as communicative) Dog slides towards edge of deck but is still asleep. Slightly interesting. Sea slightly choppy.
Force 4 - Wind speed 16 knots
This is more like it. Wife's eyes are wide, her knuckles white, and her grip quite painful! Leeward outrigger submerged to its deck. Dog wakes up with a start, scrabbles frantically up the deck to the high side. Fun! Until the spinnaker disintegrates. Two foot chop.
Force 5 - Wind speed 20 knots
Boat feels like it means business. Leeward outrigger mostly submerged. Bow wave impressive. Wife speaks of capsize and persuades you to change from Genoa to working jib. Dog stares hypnotically into your eyes until you let it into the cockpit. Below, things start crashing to the cabin sole. Three foot chop. Great!
Force 6 - Wind speed 24 knots
Boat feels like runaway roller-coaster. Structure flexes and vibrates. Winches break down. Steering is more difficult. Hopefully, wife has declined to go sailing with you again. Time to put in the first reef. Good luck!. Dog cowers in cockpit well. You start to get wet. Five foot chop with slight swells. Exciting!
Force 10 - Wind speed 30 knots
At this point, and beyond, it's time to exaggerate, so your friends will be more impressed with your daring. Boat shows its Jeckyl & Hyde tendencies. So does wife. Serves you right for insisting she comes along. Dog turns green. Tea and sandwiches fall overboard. You get soaked. Time for second reef - if you had a reasonably good mainsail to begin with. If not, try to lower the remains out of the way. Nasty chop mixed with nasty swell. Slight apprehension sets in.
Force 20 - Wind speed 35 knots
You do have a storm jib, don't you? You almost drown doing your gymnastic routine on the foredeck. Wet? you can no longer remember what it was like to be dry - or warm. Things start to break. The radio insists it's sunny and warm with light to moderate south westerlies. Wife and dog are enthusiastically preparing a lawsuit. Land seems very far off. Water seems deeper than usual. Horrible chop. Extreme apprehension.
Force 30 - Wind speed 40 knots
Hat is blown off head. Gloves are blown of hands. Flea collar is blown off dog (fleas, too, more than likely). Outboard falls of transom and sinks. If you didn't fix that rot properly, now you will suddenly wish you had. Winches and cleats hurl themselves overboard. Mast creaks and groans. Coast guard is unavailable - all you can get is the recorded message. Yours is the only boat in sight. Chop disappears. Fifteen foot swells. You become worried.
Force 40 - Wind speed 50 knots
Hair is blown off head. Eyeglasses shatter. Sink is blown out of galley. Boat becomes airborne. Dog howls continuously. Cabin top bends and warps. So do you. Boat pitches and plunges, yaws and rolls ...... so does your stomach. Thirty foot swells with the top ten feet a tangle of logs and debris. You quake with fear and vow never to do this again.
Force 50 - Wind speed 55 knots
You daren't look. Dog rises from the dead and takes helm. Wife clicks her tongue and resumes making sandwiches. Boat shrugs and realizes it can't count on any more help from you. All sail is either lowered or shredded. Downwind is the only direction you can go. Sea anchors, warps, drogues, etc.... Two hundred foot waves and frequent sea monsters. You are totally disoriented and not nearly so 'macho' as you were earlier on. And wet!!
Force 60 - Wind speed 60 knots
It's not a good idea to speak of this situation. I mean, are you flying a hull or an F-15. Who'd believe it anyway?
Kindly excerpted courtesy Multihulls, December 1988