“This is just too much fun for one person.” That’s what Matt says as we get ready for bed. The storm started last night so neither of us slept well. It poured most of the day so we hole up in the local library. In the afternoon Matt goes back to check the boat. One of the 3/4″ lines holding us to the mooring ball is completely frayed through. If it weren’t for the back-up line he decided to add, our boat would have floated away. There is a break in the rain so we dash to the marina and get back to the boat around 7 pm. The launch captain says we are the only ones out and they are advising everyone to stay put (easier done sans children). It looks like it could be another long night. We go to bed right after the boys do because there’s nothing else to do when it gets this bad. The wind and waves swing us 90 degrees one way and then 90 degrees the other way. When I close my eyes, it feels like we are being spun in circles. The wind is howling and the waves are tossing the boat. The bow bobs up and down by 3-5 feet and, by extension, so do we because that’s where our berth is. Despite the raised wood edge, I keep feeling I’m going to get tossed out of bed and on the floor. At a certain point, you just roll over, try to sleep and hope everything will be ok.
After a fitful night, the storm passes and the morning is calm. This is when you wonder if you were just being a wimp. But then the stories start rolling in. The launch captain tells us that people were stranded on the beach; a kayaker needed rescuing; a ferry boat hit a 20-foot wave and had its front windows blown in, the water simultaneously flooding the engine (no one was hurt). We are leaving tomorrow so most of the day is spent getting ready. We do laundry, re-provision the boat, fill up propane gas, get the bikes serviced, etc. We haul everything to the launch boat and take it over to our boat. After doing errands most of the day and being rained in yesterday, everyone is ready for some fun. It’s 6 pm but we decide to go for a bike ride. We are stowing things down below when Joshua yells to us, “The dinghy’s gone!” We run up and see another frayed line. He’s right – our secondary mode of transportation is nowhere to be seen. We look around the marina but don’t see it floating anywhere. We’ve already called the launch service so we get on the skiff and head to the dock. No one’s seen or reported an un(wo)manned dinghy.
The winds have been southerly so someone suggests we walk down the beach. About 100 yards down, there it is. Someone has pulled it up on the sand. Matt goes back to the launch, rides to the boat and gets the oars, rides the launch back to the dock, and comes back down to us on a beach. We each take a side and row back to the boat. The bike ride will have to wait.