That’s what we’ve been doing all night. Winds have been 20 gusting to 35 since yesterday afternoon. Waterford is in a relatively sheltered spot in Ireland, so I’m guessing the winds are really howling in the north and west.
During the night, it was like I was sleeping in one of those rocking cribs. Really nice; made even nicer knowing I am tied to a dock that isn’t going anywhere. It even made me think about why I don’t miss our beautiful Manhattan apartment with the roof top garden oasis, we built a few years ago. I did the design and found a carpenter to do all the hard work. The apartment is now rented; we may sell it this summer. But lying in bed last night, feeling the rocking motion of the water, brought home to me how close I am to nature here and how comforting that is. So while I miss my NY friends; the apartment Julie and I loved so much for 7 years, less so.
Fundamentally, maybe that’s why in the middle of the Atlantic, thousands of miles from anywhere, we were at peace. In fact, the lure of the blue ocean, to just jump in, was unbelievably strong. Never something to fear, we embraced it. The ocean was also noticeably saltier than near the coast.
Back to now, these winds would have been much more stressful if we were on anchor. I would have gotten only a few hours’ sleep, at most.
The main reason for lack of sleep on anchor is that in spite of the various anchor alarms I use (alarms that use GPS and sound an alarm if we move a specified distance). On numerous occasions, I have convinced myself that we are moving laterally. I don’t think I have ever been right either, but the feeling is so strong, I must get out of bed, and run to the pilot house, prepared to fire up the engine at the first sign of danger. Being in a dark forward cabin is one of the factors that cause this. It has certainly made me even more aware of the dangers of vertigo that pilots face in dark, FIR conditions. And the only cure trusts your instruments and not your brain.
So for the last few hours I have been finishing the pilot house reorganization. 90% of the stuff is put away and I’ve just been doing the odds and ends today. I’m writing this post now, sitting in the salon, because while in the pilot house not long ago, I realized I was getting sea sick!
Yes, tied to a dock, going no place, I was getting sea sick. Maybe I just needed a little water, but that is usually the first sign. 20 minutes later, I’m fine now. I think having my head under the helm station for an inordinate amount of time was the culprit. But we are also bouncing in a non-rhythmic way. Since Dauntless is tied to a floating dock, under such conditions, the lines pull on the dock, resulting in a jarring motion.
I’ll adjust the lines again. I let you know the results.