Narrowly missing being hit by boats (and docks) adrift in 50 knot winds, no drinking water, and five cases of covid. They told us life aboard wouldn’t be easy, and we believed them, but all of that has happened in the last 24 hours.
It all started with a mouse. We made our way from the Chesapeake over a month ago, and could have been in the Bahamas by now, but we had a rite of passage to attend to. The kids had to go see Mickey. Mouse that is. I’ve been a big Disney nut for my whole life, and even used to work at WDW…so I just had to take my kids there to see it for themselves. Long story short: Universal outshined Disney 10 to 1, and Mickey Mouse literally made us sick. Shared water fountains and no hand sanitizer packed in with ten thousand new friends will do that.
Oh well, no biggie. We haven’t been sick in awhile, so we were probably due. We got back to our boat in Port Canaveral, and made our way to West Palm Beach nursing our colds. The weather underway was pretty rough, and turned out to be the beginning of a week-long front that would keep us from crossing to the Bahamas for at least that long. The winds were set to crescendo at 50 knots five days later (last night), which gave us plenty of time to nurse ourselves back to health. The isolated nature of being on a boat turned out to be a bonus, because the loss of my sense of taste told us that our colds were actually Covid.
We spent the week watching movies, reading, doing screen time, and learning solitaire. Grand plans to do some writing, boat projects, and school went down the drain with our energy levels. The dog started getting a little nutty(er) on day three, and started running circles around the boat. The cat tried to make a run for it. We watched the weather predictions eagerly, hoping for a change in prospect….or at least consistency in outlook. We got the latter, and the prediction held for 50 knot gusts on Saturday night, with a decrease after that which would allow us to get moving on Monday.
All we had to do was get through Saturday night.
Following conventional wisdom, we cleared the decks, reduced windage, and wrapped our sails up tight ahead of the storm. All that was left was to sit next to the VHF all night to hear if anything was happening around us that we should know about. Before heading inside we noticed that Cinderella, the sailboat directly to the North of us, still had not made any precautions. In fact, not a single light was to be seen on her, telling us that she was unoccupied. Not a good sign.
We hunkered down for some thai curry and a family viewing of Aquaman, hoping his godlike power over the sea would give us courage through the night. Halfway through the dishes, the waterpump gave out. Again. This is the 10th time in the 10 months we’ve been on the boat. Luckily, this time it just wouldn’t stop pumping, So we were able to brush our teeth before shutting the power to the unit of. I wasn’t about to debug it tonight, which means no fresh water during the storm. Luckily we have hand sanitizer on board. Unluckily, we had neglected to keep our emergency 6 gallon water cooler full, so we had no reserves. Shame on us.
Oh, and then one of the two built-in refrigerators broke down. Joy.
We settled into the cabins, and things were quiet for a while. Just a bit of chatter on the VHF while everybody’s nerves settled. We checked topsides occasionally to make sure all was well, and it was. We checked the Broncos score to make sure they were winning, and they weren’t. There’s always next year. The winds picked up as predicted, and started clocking 35-40 around 11 pm. They were set to hit fifty at 1 am.
Then, at around 11:45 the silence broke. The words “boat lost anchor and is adrift hitting other boats, including ours” came booming across the distress channel of the VHF. One of the worst things that could happen on a night like tonight had actually happened. Screw you Murphy. We bolted upstairs and looked around. Yup, we had called it. Our little neighbor Cindarella had apparently lost her slipper (anchor) and was running from the ball before her magic wore out. Run little Cinderella, run, it’s almost midnight. She was now playing a game of pachinko with the other boats in the harbor, including our friends one boat over. For the course of the evening, we kept tabs on her progress through the area by new boats reporting being hit. The final report was by a poor soul that reported having his ditch back ready, and needing to be picked up from his boat. At one point, he was reported to say “ah geez, I don’t know. But I’ll give it a try” in response to a last ditch effort. Not a good night. I can only hope that whoever owns Cinderella will be held accountable.
The night led to day, and the winds let up significantly. The weather was clear, but the water wasn’t. I took a look at the water pump, and was able to adjust the pressure switch with an allen key to get it working again. I actually wish I had learned that trick months ago, because I’m pretty sure at least two “faulty” pumps I’ve replaced had the same issue. Oh well, live and learn. I noticed the keyhole while repairing it last time and remember thinking “gee, I wonder what that is for?”.
It wasn’t long before our daughter Jade spotted two large portions of dock floating down the waterway toward us. We kept them from hitting us with boat poles and fenders, and warned those around us through an elegant series of text messages and shouts across the water. As far as we can tell, nobody got damaged by them.
By mid afternoon, the broken refrigerator was fixed, and things had calmed enough for me to fire up the dinghy to take Meredith to the shore for some last minute provisioning and paperwork before we head to the Bahamas tomorrow. The trip to shore was eventful enough, save the dog trying to make a run for the shore. I’m pretty sure she would take off and never look back at this point. The trip back to the boat, however, was less than charming. A weathered bit of fuel line decided to pop, leaving me rowing our dinghy back to the boat. Such is life on a boat…at least the wind was blowing in my favor. I got the fuel line repaired, and am writing this while waiting to hear that Meredith is ready to be picked up.
Tomorrow, we make our way to the Bahamas in less than perfect conditions. Nothing dangerous, but certainly nothing comfortable. The family voted to go and endure the waves instead of waiting another week for perfect conditions that may never come. With any luck, this time tomorrow, we’ll be eating cracked conch and drinking cold Kalik by the pool.
Wish us luck!
Update. Tomorrow looks bad. We’re not going anywhere. We may be having Christmas in West Palm Beach. Send cookies.
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