We pull into Little Bay on Peter Island. We were here over a decade ago and there were only two boats in it. Today it has about 30 and it is a small bay. It looks like a marine parking lot. Instead of just being anchored, everyone is anchored and tied to the shore so they don’t swing, such that more boats can squeeze in. We motor through it and find some potential spots – a mere 10 feet from other boats. A huge dingy is hauling screaming kids around on a water sled. Matt asks what I think. I try to let him make these decisions based on what places provide good protection but my inner introvert is screaming NO!
We leave and go to the lee side of Peter Island. White Bay is huge and there are only 4 other boats in it. We find a nice spot near the beach to set the anchor. Matt does a great job at this. I drop the anchor and let out the chain from the windlass and then set the snubber line. Matt marks the chart where the anchor was dropped and then continues periodically marking where the boat moves for the next few hours. The result is a chart that shows the swinging room around the anchor. We let out about 140 feet of chain (it should be 5-7 feet of chain per one foot of water depth). It seems very solid but the Christmas trade winds have just shown up. They are more intense than expected, winds are 25-35 knots with gusts up to 45. And because the island is not that high, the wind has a tunneling effect. We are near the beach but there is also a wall of rocks
behind us. There will be no sleep tonight. Even if our anchor holds, we don’t know how well the two boats ahead of us have anchored. Matt stays up and I check on him every so often. It’s hard to sleep. I finally get up at 2 am to relieve him. He seems surprised – he was planning to try and do the whole night on his own (of the two of us, he needs more sleep). When we were dating, I was struck by what a genuinely nice person he is. I once told him his Viking name would be Matthew The Considerate.
There is almost a full moon so I can clearly see the cat next to us, the beach, the swimming buoy, and the large rocks that are only about 30 feet away from us when we swing that way. It’s kind of fun to be up there all alone in the middle of the night. You can’t help but stare at the heavens and ask yourself the big questions: Why are we here? What is the purpose of life? What happens once it’s over? Do I have any hidden stashes of chocolate I’ve forgotten about?
As I sit up there and gaze at the moon and stars, it strikes me how much Matt tries to take care of me and the boys. He really loves us. It seems a simple (and perhaps simplistic) observation. And yet there is so much depth behind it. Love is not something to be taken for granted.