Well, actually, we don’t sail off again today.
The early morning weather forecast is not good. The weather front has moved in fast and if we venture out now we would be in the thick of it for longer. It just isn’t worth the risk. We’ve been in much worse weather but if you don’t have to go, it’s better not to and we can afford to sit this out for a few days.
During the morning the wind picks up and the rain starts to lash the island. Gusts of over 50 knots blow through the harbour and cause Jeannius to swing like a pendulum from her anchor and by lunchtime we are surrounded by lightning, with claps of thunder that make me jump out of my seat. The sky is very, very dark.
Suddenly the anchor alarm goes off. Now, with us swinging at anchor the way we are, this is likely to happen, so I am not immediately worried, but I check out of the door anyway, only to notice that the half sunken wreck that was lying about 500 yards behind us is – bloody hell – somewhat considerably closer!
I call Mike out of the cabin and thrust his waterproofs at him. “We’re dragging” I shout and stand back to watch the master at work. He guns the engine and pulls the boat forward while I get my waterproofs on too, but slowly, as we are now not in any danger with Mike at the helm, and after all, I don’t want to be called upon to help while it’s still lashing it down outside.
When the worst is over, I go out and begin to bring the anchor up. There was enough chain down before, but this time we lay even more down. Forget the anchor, we lay enough chain down to hold the boat even if we didn’t have an anchor down as well.
“Where are my knickers?” I suddenly ask Mike. He glances down at me, relieved that I actually seem to be wearing some. “You’re wearing them” he says. Duh! But I’m not talking about those. Last night, after my shower, he had hung a pair on the end of the boat hook for me - they have obviously blown off and there is now a pair of cream lace ones floating around the harbour. I just hope they don’t get sucked into someone’s inlet pipe or foul a propeller!
The gale force winds abate and checking the weather through the day, Mike discovers that there is more to come and we would now not be wise to leave before Thursday, so we baton down the hatches and prepare to wait it out. Bermuda radio starts to warn passing boats from coming within 30 miles of Bermuda due to the danger of being blown on to the reefs and forbids any oil tanker from entering the harbours. There is a general small craft warning out. All adds to the … fun?
During a break in the weather when checking some nautical thing or other, Mike finds my knickers on the bottom step of the transom. Thank god I didn’t put out an obstacle alert on the radio!
If I think the lightning is spectacular in the morning, the evening’s performance is totally awe inspiring. Sheets of lightning illuminate the sky on both sides of the boat – we are sandwiched in the middle. It’s so amazing that I even go out to film it from the cockpit – making sure that I wear my flip flops as they are rubber. It seems a sensible precaution to me although Mike assures me that the whole boat is insulated. Still, you can’t be too sure.
We sleep without the air conditioning so that we can hear the anchor alarm if it should have the audacity to go off after all that chain laying, and sleep apart, Mike in the stern cabin so that he is even closer to the alarm. Me, I shut the door and turn the fan on high. At times like this, it’s definitely HIS boat!!!
Position: 32 degs 22 mins N, 64 degs 40 mins W
Distance so far: 841 miles
I was just reading about the developing weather near Bermuda. I'm glad you have decided to stick it out there. Great shot of the lightning! Glad you found your knickers! ;)
ReplyDeleteHeather xx