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"Gentlemen, start your engines!" The command rings
out from VHF radios across Elizabeth Harbour. This is the
event we've all been waiting for--and dreading.
The worst cold front of the winter is on our doorstep. The
wind has been blowing 20 knots out of the northwest all day,
creating an uncomfortable fetch across the seven mile harbor.
It's about 4:30 P.M. and the northern horizon is blue-gray
and ominous. As a dark band of clouds approach, someone announces
"35 knots at Hamburger Beach!" A few seconds later,
another voice proclaims, "32 at Chat and Chill!"
Oh shit, we're next!
Nick puts the boat in forward and applies some throttle.
The wind line races toward us, and then the rigging is howling.
A few waves even break over the bow and splash our cockpit
dodger. We've never taken a wave across the cockpit in
an anchorage before. This is crazy! Having just survived
an anchor dragging incident a few nights ago, we're terrified
of another mishap. We've deployed two anchors with lots of
scope, but anything could happen.
Soon we hear boats on the radio who are dragging anchors.
Up ahead, we see friends on Pelican go broadside to
the wind and struggle to get their anchor up and redeployed.
Behind us, a boat drifts away and has to reset. Down in the
Red Shanks anchorage, Irish Fever's top-rated Rocna
anchor drags. They motor around the harbor until the wind
abates enough to re-anchor. An engine-less catamaran drags
three anchors and grounds on the beach. They ask for assistance,
and several captains leave their own vessels to help stabilize
the grounded boat. On the radio, a desperate woman's voice
pleads, "We need help. Someone help us!" All around
us, boaters are in trouble and I feel sick to my stomach and
helpless. This certainly is not the cruising dream we had
envisioned back in Texas.
Fortunately the drama plays out before sunset, so by dark
everyone is secure. After motoring into our anchors for two
hours, we do anchor watches until the wind finally moderates
after midnight. We're physically and emotionally exhausted,
but safe.
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The extremes of cruising: terrifying one day, relaxing
the next
A strong cold front blows through Elizabeth
Harbour with whitecapping waves and 35-knot winds.
The day after the storm: chatting and chilling
with Alan and Gerri on a gorgeous day.
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