The Perfect Storm

5.17.11

The Abacos have been quite a dismal end to this otherwise perfect trip. The commercialization here is so built up it is sad to think these islands are part of the gorgeous uninhabited islands in the rest of the Bahamas. The bottom here is grass, making it near impossible to anchor and we have had more rain here than during the entire rest of our trip altogether!
And now, to add insult to injury, the squalls have begun. On land, you think nothing of waking up in the middle of the night to howling wind and torrential rain except how glad you are to be in a comfy bed. On the water, it is a nightmare.
Two nights ago we had the worst storm we have been in yet. We were awakened at 1am by lightening so intense and frequent we thought someone was shining a spotlight on our boat. We sat outside watching it as it appeared to pass to the West of us – shooting huge bolts of lightening to the ground and lighting up the whole sky around us. After a half hour of watching the skies, we were about to turn in when suddenly our boat took a sudden, unexpected lurch - the wind swinging our boat all the way around to the West in a split second. Suddenly, the storm was directly off our bow and heading straight for us!
In the next five minutes so many things happened at once it is hard to even remember what exactly occurred. We ran downstairs, slamming all the hatches closed along the way. We grabbed raincoats, the GPS, headlamps and the key to the boat. We ran back upstairs, me to the helm and Brad to the bow. In the five minutes it took for all of this to happen and by the time I turned the GPS on and had the engine on, the boat had already drug 200 feet! And we were still dragging – straight into the shallows.
At this point, the torrential downpour had begun and I could barely see Brad on the bow. Lightening strikes were hitting dangerously close to us on the shore beyond. The winds were overwhelming, blowing at least 40knots with 50knot gusts and, with the RPMs revved as high as they would go, I could not keep her pointed into the wind. We were underpowered.
As I struggled to gain some yards and keep us in one spot, Brad threw out all the anchor line that we had. The bow swung backwards as the line paid out and then lurched forward suddenly – the anchor had caught! Brad ran back to cockpit and we nervously watched the GPS to make sure we weren't dragging. No sooner had we taken our first breaths of relief than **SNAP**!!! We looked at each other, looked to the stern and as the next strike of lightening illuminated the sky we saw our dinghy floating away from the boat. By the time we overcame the shock of losing the dinghy it was too late to jump in after it. And with the mothership still possibly dragging anchor, it would do no good to have one person in the water and only one on the boat. We sent up a silent prayer that it would find dry land and we could retrieve it in the morning.
We sat outside in the pouring rain and the lightening, now devastatingly close, watching the GPS, watching the land and being careful not to touch anything metal....just in case. Two hours later, the worst was over. The wind backed down to a howling 25knots and the rain dropped to a heavy drizzle. The lightening continued to flash and we could see the dinghy now resting on the shore 500 feet behind us. We drug ourselves downstairs, weary from exhaustion, and crawled into bed for a few hours of sleep.
At first light, two hours later, we were out in the cockpit scouting the shore for our dinghy. We saw it in the same place it had been last night, floating in the tide and we worried as the tide lowered, it would go with it and be carried out to sea. There was only one other boat in the cove with us and so we sat outside and stalked them with binoculars, waiting for them to get up so we could enlist their assistance. Finally, by 10am, they had come over, taken us to shore and helped us get our dinghy, surprisingly unscathed, back to the boat.
The next night was another squall, although this one was only 30knots of wind and our anchor held firm. But after the intense storm the night before we were a bit gun shy and neither of us slept; as the wind howled outside we sat transfixed on the GPS, each silently praying that we wouldn't drag.
It seems there is no rest for the weary during spring in the Abacos.