The Wind Roars at 20 knots

We are still safely anchored in Red Shanks Anchorage in what the Beauford Wind Scale calls a fresh breeze, which seems in conflict with the dictionary definition of "breeze" and my understanding of the word, a gentle wind. Merriam-Webster clarifies that the term refers to wind from 4 to 31 miles per hour. My personal experience is that a 4 MPH wind feels and sounds significantly different than one registering 31 MPH. With the former, there is really not enough to sail, and with the latter there is usually a small craft advisory to stay in port.

As the gusty wind continues to roar and resonate in the rigging, we have found ways to keep occupied. Yesterday, we awoke to gray skies, but by afternoon, sunshine sparkled on the water. Rob from a nearby boat, S/V Cadence, a Chuck Paine designed Apogee monohull, stopped by to visit, and then we went to his boat, finding many similarities in design but also many different features from our Steve Dashew boat.

Mantra from Cadence

Around 2 p.m., we had lunch and then got to work. I started laundry, even though the wind was a bit high, and Peter began his project of installing a new speed and depth inducer, which involves taking off many of the ceiling and wall panels to access wiring. Yesterday evening, his work was contained in our cabin and the forepeak. Off course, his work revealed cleaning tasks for me requiring pure vinegar and bleach (not together!). He was able to put a sufficient number of the panels back to allow us to sleep in our bed last night.

Laundry laid out and hanging to dry, with trim from the forward cabin on the floor

Peter working in the forward cabin

Before dark, the wind increased and then it began to pour rain, and I scrambled to bring in the not-yet-dry laundry from the lifelines and stow the on-deck cushions in the pilot house. By nightfall, the interior of the boat looked like a remodeling site and a pseudo laundry. More rain drenched the decks in the night, awakening Peter to close hatches and leaving me undisturbed. 

This morning it was blustery and sunny. I put the damp laundry back on the lifelines after breakfast and did three more loads in the washing machine. Meanwhile, Peter began to systematically dismantle the entire starboard side of the saloon. I did some cleaning of the panels Peter was removing and installed new screening in a frame for the bathroom hatch, with the help of Peter and the right tool. On a cleaning roll, I took everything out of the bottom compartment of the refrigerator, wiped up the condensation and sanitized it with (my friend) bleach. Moving on, I cleaned the bathroom (because some grit had fallen on the floor when Peter removed the screen frame). Of course, I have made meals also. 

What lies behind the panels

Our bed covered with removed panels

Galley counter with my new screen and table covered in stuff from the starboard side

Peter working

Although it was not predicted, precipitation suddenly began to fall from the sky, which had darkened, preceded by an increase in the wind speed. Peter hurried to close hatches and he and I fetched the last of the laundry from the lines. Luckily, yesterday evening's loads and the first two loads from this morning had had time to dry, so there were only a few towels to bring in. 

Rob picked up a friend who flew into Georgetown yesterday to crew with him back to the States, and they have invited us over for drinks. They are deparating before dawn tomorrow morning. Therefore, it is time to close this post, which I am writing from the only seat left to me below decks.

My only seat!