The VHF continued to crackle its’ bad news all night long. By 2 a.m., the gale was on us. Winds up to 37-kts, gusting to 48-kts. Seas to 7-ft. The boat was at the end of the anchor rode and it was taught as a banjo string.
The boat handled the mess quite well, actually. She would climb up one wave and splash down in the trough. a couple of times she missed judged her step and take a big old gulp of water over the bow. But all in all, she held up under the pressure pretty well. as for me? Not so much. it was a very rough ride, i now know where the term “stem to stern” comes from. For certain, i was beat up stem to stern.
Now, anyone with any sense at all would have been a bit concerned, but my partner Thomas seemed to be a bit bereft in that department. He never even woke up. Kid you not, the guy slept through the whole thing. right here, i would like to say that we drank all night long and the reason he didn’t wake up was because he was dead drunk. Yes, i would like to say that; but it wouldn’t be true. one thing me and dee never did was drink and boat. oh, we both liked to drink. don’t get me wrong. We just never, ever did it in a boat. When we’re not on a boat - - - well let’s just say we enjoy our alcohol.
return in the next issue as A Night that Couldn’t End Suisun wraps up.
18
®