Location: Eastham Creek
It's been a glum two days in the creek. Dad and I spent all of yesterday preparing for the foul weather. First we took down the weather cloths and the dodger. Second we launched the dingy which we have been storing on the house top under the boom. I dug out our second anchor while Dad rebraided the end of our spare anchor line. Dad rowed the dinghy out, about a hundred yards and placed the second anchor. The two anchors were each at 45 degree angles from the boat facing north. We let both anchor lines out, making it harder for them to snap. Third we hauled out the dingy, flipped it over, laid it on the foredeck over our inflatable digny, and secured it to the deck. Fourth we moved the sailboard to midships and secured it. To be honest Dad took care of the rest. He wound a halyard around the mast, all the way to the top so that the other halyards on the mast wouldn't clang in the wind. Lastly he wound a rope around the boom ensuring that the sail cover didn't take too much of a beating or become unbuckled. It was exhausting, mostly because it was freezing and every movement required an extra effort, but it was worth it.
A few days ago we heard the coast guard over the radio request vessels in the area to keep a lookout for a capsized power boat. Transmitting the boat's "last known location" the CG asked anyone in the area to give assistance. It's reports like these that are a sharp reminder that this is not always a vacation, and make our tedious preparation efforts worth while. We would receive another reminder of this soon enough.
Inside the cabin for the night Dad and I were quite comfortable. Our two anchors prevented us from being swung about and our cabin heater kept us nice and toasty. However the noise was tremendous. Thirty knot winds were howling and whistling past the mast. It was difficult to drown it out in order to sleep. Eventually another noise began to co-mingle with the gale. It was a deeper hum of a low flying helicopter. At first Dad and I didn't think much of it, we were used to seeing the increased military presence after Virginia. When the sound returned and stayed Dad got curious, he said that "even the Navy wouldn't be crazy enough to practice flight training in this." He flug open the hatch and his silhouette was bathed in light as he stared into the spotlight of a Coast Guard helicopter. The CG quickly left us, sweeping his search light down the nearest bank and then finally on the only other boat in the harbor, the French Canadians in the Catamaran. Over the radio we heard the Canadians ask the CG what was going on and if they could be of assistance. The CG responded, requesting them to continue their conversation on channel 12 instead. We switched to channel 12 as well and heard the Canadians transmit again stating they were willing to help "we won't be able to get the boat off the anchor, but we have a dingy." The CG never responded, presumably because they had found what they were looking for. After scouring the far bank the helicopter's search light suddenly stopped roaming, fixing on a small,dull light just at the end of the marsh. They hovered over the light for about ten minutes, just long enough for a ridgid inflatable CG boat to speed into the harbor. They slowed down a bit, seemingly struggling with the depth then tore to the weak light on the shore. The end. There was little to see after that. The helicopter left the two boats there, taking it's giant light with them. Dad said it was probably a skiff with engine failure or just couldn't power against the wind and got blown into the marsh. Either way that was our channel 8 news for the evening.
In the morning the winds died down to around 20 knots but we decided to stay the day because the temperature was still below 60 and with the wind chill we decided that was too cold for us. Being cooped up in the cabin was rough, there was little to do. My stash of books that I had brought from home had finally been exhausted the day before with the ending of Jamaica Inn, by Daphne du Maurier. It was so good that I rushed through it, now I wish I had saved it. It's days like these that make our trip feel less like a vacation and more like jail. In the late afternoon Dad and I pulled up our extra anchor, in preparation for tomorrow. With only one anchor to pull up in the morning we could make an early start. Dad and I made a quick dinner, and called it a day.
All bundled up with no where to go.
ReplyDelete