Weekend Write-In Story Collection

Toward Safety

In 500 words, write a story in which relaxation is so close, yet so far away. Written for the Weekend Write-In prompt themed "Relax" 21 - 23 August 2015

Sailing from Cape Horn to the Falklands in February 2012, we were hit by storm that developed earlier and more intensely than predicted. This story is adds some personality to my "From Cape Horn", which was written from notes in our log.

Hurricane at Sea

"Morning, Gorgeous. I said as I stepped into the cockpit and kissed Edi. "Quiet watch?"

"I didn't call you, did I?" she said, looking up from her iPad movie with a smile. "We're about forty miles from the entrance to Stanley. The wind's begun backing and we probably don't need to motor-sail now."

I looked at the chart-plotter and oriented myself, then looked at the anemometer and the sails. "We'll shut-down the engine and fall off a bit, then ease back up if the wind continues to back."

"I don't like the way the barometer's falling, Edi said."

"What's it been doing?"

"It's 979.1. Down more than ten points since midnight and falling more rapidly."

I shut-down the engine, adjusted the sails and fell off five degrees. "If the wind continues backing as your log shows, we'll soon be making over eight knots again and pointing to clear Wolf Rocks. We should be inside by 1500."

"That's good, the GRIBs predict this one will arrive at 2100."

I looked around over the port quarter again at the building dark mass. "Looks like it might be a bit early."

"That's come quickly," she said, standing and looking back.

"The coffee should be ready. A simple Dutch breakfast this morning, then secure and get some kip time; we may be in for another ride before Stanley."

Edi didn't wake as we were hit by a squall mid-morning. Why should she? We'd been in many forty-five knot squalls on our sail from Vancouver.

The wind continued to back and strengthen. I continued to shorten sail. Love this roller-furling, all three led aft into the enclosed cockpit.

"That was a big one," Edi said as she climbed back into the cockpit shortly before 1300.

"Blipped over fifty-five knots on the gauge. We're into Force elevens again. I've come northward, heading for the anchorage in Fitzroy."

Four miles to go to protection, the wind moves above sixty. "It's backing. We're on a lee shore. An unknown one. Let's get out of here, motor to seaward. Lay a-hull under bare poles."

Edi monitored the plotter and instruments while I worked the helm. "We're eight miles from Wolf Rocks, but the wind and seas should push us past. The wind is blipping above seventy knots, looks like it wants to stay above there."

"We can't do anything more now. Let's go below."

We cocooned in the rather more peaceful saloon. I monitored our drift east-northeast. It looks good. If the wind doesn't back too much, we should clear Wolf Rocks.

We lay on the settees fully-dressed with our boots on and watched through the skylights and hatches as great depths of green water sluiced over the decks. The watch alarm woke me every half hour to monitor the chart-plotter. At 1740 we drifted past Wolf Rock, clear by 3.1 miles and continued to seaward.

I said to Edi "We can relax now. The next piece of land downwind is the west coast of Chile, a circumnavigation away."