Today was predicted to have showers and thunder storms. We had several morning and early afternoon showers where I would don my fouly jacket to break wind and rain. Around 2, we could see a doozy building. Around 2:20 the radio began passing along severe thunder storm warnings. We were not going to outrun it, but hoped to get to an anchorage before it hit. The wind hit with a vengeance as we were about a half mile from the anchorage, and the rain followed. Storm warnings predicted gusts up to 60 miles an hour, and some of ours felt as though the prediction was correct. Our dinghy with outboard engine on it was being towed short behind the boat. Each blast of wind raised the bow up as though it would flip over backwards or do cartwheels at the end of its painter. I think the only thing saving it was the short painter, although Barbara insists she was holding it down.
We made it about 1/4 mile off the ICW, up the South Edisto River, before dropping anchor in 15 feet of water and a gale. I was delighted to have a good anchor and 100 feet of chain, and let it all out. After all, what good is keeping some of the chain dry if you drag anchor and wreck? Hand signals worked OK between me at the bow and Barbara in the cockpit. Words were impossible to hear. She had to motor forward to get enough tension off the chain for me to set the chain lock.
We went below and removed our wet foulies and heaved a sigh of relief. We watched another boat motor past us and eventually anchor. We chose marks on the shoreline to watch for confirming the anchor was holding. As the storm abated, we had a cool one and treats. Cribbage lessons were also given (mostly to me).
The sky cleared and everything was bright and shiney! Babara prepared a spinach stuffed pork tenderloin with salsa and served it with a glass of wine. We adjourned to the cockpit to watch the beautiful sunset. I carefully arranged the cushions and sat down only to find the sunset obscured by the fouly jackets hanging in my face!
Just as we stopped laughing at my inability to look up before choosing a seating site, the Prairie Home Companion was interrupted by the alert system. Severe thunder storms with possible quarter size hail were passing nearby. We could see the thunderheads and lightning in the distance. As I write, we've battened down the hatches and the wind is building.
Submit and I are straining, all the chain is out
Come ahead, I signal, cause She can't hear me shout.
Up South Edisto, we endure a fierce squall
The dinghy is bucking like a bronc in his stall
Then calm...a brief respite...before the next bout.