It rains hard all night and we can feel the boat moving around, tugging at the lines but it’s no where near as bad as we thought it would be. The rattling of the halyard on the mast is a bit irritating but that’s the only thing that really interrupts my sleep.
It’s dark in the morning when I am used to sunshine, and the rain continues all morning and into the early afternoon. I had hoped that at least the rain would wash the bird poo off but when I venture out after it has stopped, I see that most of the bloody stuff is still stuck like concrete to the coach house, bimini and decks.
Photo: In a gap between the downpours Mike checks the hurricane lines
Sandy has now pushed on, slightly further out to sea and further north. We have escaped unscathed although one yacht anchored just outside the marina dragged its mooring ball and is now sitting on a sandbank. There’s another yacht anchored not that far from us in the marina and as the tide changes and the boats all start to change direction he seems to move more than the others. I keep a watch on him with the binoculars from the safety of my cabin, ready to alert Mike if the yacht starts to drag but Mike takes one look and says the yacht is fine and that I am imagining things so I give up on my vigil and read a book instead.
Mike continues with the fog horn exercise. It does scare them away but I think some of them let rip out of surprise when he blows it.
We eat comfort food in the evening and snuggle up on the sofa to watch a film.
Position: 32 deg 46 min N, 79 deg 57 min W
Distance so far: 3276 miles
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