Where’d all THIS come from?

Note the varied angles of masts resulting from the swell. 

      
        Surely everyone is aware of Hurricane Matthew that recently passed over the Southern Caribbean, curved northward through parts of Jamaica and Haiti, and then ultimately slammed the eastern coast of Florida.  Meteorologists followed its expected path and progress hourly with intensity.  As prudent sailors, so did we.  Being OUTSIDE of the “Hurricane Belt”, as widely regulated by insurance companies, does NOT guarantee that a hurricane or extremely nasty tropical storm won’t blow through the area.  Although the eye of Matthew was predicted to pass well north of us, winds in our area were to be an estimated 45mph and the seas between 9-10 feet.  Considering that, it took no time at all for the crew of Exit Strategy to prepare to “GET OUT OF DODGE!” 
        We left the wide open anchorage along Kralendijk, Bonaire and sailed about 30nm to the more protected bay of Spanish Waters, Curacao.  For MY comfort and peace of mind once there, we took a slip at Seru Boca Marina that is tucked way into a corner. I thank God that Matthew came and went with nary a ripple and only intermittent light showers in that location.
       But this narrative is NOT about Matthew.  This story is about a storm that we experienced two days ago right here back in the anchorage in Bonaire.  We knew of severe weather that was about 200 miles away over the Venezuelan mainland, however, there was no indication that it would effect us.

2 AM:  We were stirred awake when It began raining. We closed the hatch and returned to our slumber.

3 AM: Intermittent rain continued and the vessel began to sway.

4 AM: The gentle swaying escalated to rocking and rolling.  Small unsecured items began to rattle around and disturbed MY sleep. 

This is out of focus because of the constant motion of our boat.

4:30 AM:  I left the bunk since I couldn’t really relax and commenced working to muffle some of the interior noises.  I quickly realized that the boat was rocking too severely to dare open any lockers in order to shove in towels to stifle the rattling.  The wind was out of the west and a strong swell was crashing into the seawall which was now about 60 feet closer to Exit Strategy due to the wind shift. I carefully walked around the deck to the bow to examine the mooring lines.  (Two days before, one had worn through and we temporarily repaired it with a knot and were patiently waiting for the National Park Service to provide a new line.) 

5 AM:  From the cockpit,  I watched a parade of green and white navigation lights on small fishing vessels and a few sailboats motor northward away from the anchorage.  It occurred to me that we might need to join the band of deserters, so I dutifully cleared snorkel gear and such from around the helm. Then I sat in the cockpit with my foot braced against the table to prevent me from getting knocked around and PRAYED.

6 AM: The intermittent showers stopped and Dan crawled out of bed at his usual time.

“Where’d all THIS come from?” He yelled. A moment later, he surveyed the situation and saw that the boat was OK for the time being. 
“Do you think we could make a pot of coffee?”  I asked desperately.
“Not in this swell,” he replied.  So I had to make do with quietly nibbling on a chocolate granola bar to ease my need for caffeine.

The dinghy after rescuing the gas can.

7 AM: The swell increased and now the dinghy (that is raised out of the water nightly for security purposes) was bouncing forward, backward, and sideways against the hull. The seat popped out and was fortunately on the dinghy’s sole. We had removed the plug to let the rain drain and now we needed to put it back in before lowering the dinghy.  I did so by laying on my belly on the deck and timing the insertion and locking of the plug in between slams. Next I grabbed the seat and stowed it in the cockpit.  We lowered the craft and a few seconds later it was cresting the incoming waves with even more erratic behavior!  Suddenly, one swell flipped it on its side against the hull and the gas can fell out.  Dan used the boat hook to quickly retrieve it and moved the dinghy further aft where it behaved better.

I wonder what the tourists thought of all the boat action in the bay. (Yes, this is out of focus, too.)

8:30 AM: By this time, we expected things to settle down, but they didn’t. So we continued to brace ourselves in the cockpit and read or surfed the net.  There were tourists walking along the seawall, but no cruisers or fishermen were out and about.  We knew that if we had tried to go somewhere in the dinghy, we wouldn’t have been able to land it dockside and get out easily with the constant surge.

12 Noon: The sun came out- which was nice- but the rocking and rolling persisted.

2:30 PM: The swell finally calmed down. (BUT IT WAS WAY TOO LATE FOR COFFEE!)

3 PM: We happily got in the dinghy and zipped over to talk with three other boats about plans that we had for THAT EVENING for a night dive.  The water in the anchorage had cleared unbelievably fast, so we decided to keep our date with the OSTROCOD. (The topic of our next blog.)


Ah-h-h.  All things come to those who wait.