We are currently in the middle of what one would term ‘blowiness’.
Actually, the boat is taking a pounding as winds over 50mph hit us continually and the water splashes up against our hull in a frenzy. The ropes are secure, and Hubby is glad he put an extra one at the bow end to save us swaying out even more into the marina.
Last night when we went to bed, it was past midnight.
This is unusual for us, but we didn’t take Maggie out for her final wee until 10, then we were wide awake so had a cup of hot chocolate and waited until we were sleepy again.
According to the weather forecast, rain and heavy winds were due to hit around 1am and were in for the duration of the remainder of the night.
Maggie got off the bed just before four.
That’s not unusual, as sometimes she gets too hot and goes to the other end of the boat to stretch out on the bench (either that or I unconsciously push her out of bed, or our combined snoring is too loud).
What was unusual was that she didn’t go anywhere, just sat by the back door and stared us awake.
Hubby put the light on, checked the time, and realised she wanted to go out, so got dressed. This is the first time since our arrival that she has bothered us for ‘night relief’.
It was extremely mild (both little rads were cool to the touch) and quiet, so opening the hatch echoed round the water.
It appeared we were in a ‘lull’ so she did the business but was wary in wanting to come back, not exactly afraid, but aware that something was amiss.
Hubby was now wide awake again so decided to make a cuppa then blog for a bit until he was tired enough to resume his slumber.
Maggie snuggled into me in bed, but the squish squish noises started, the rumblings in the tummy, the slosh of digestive juices with nothing to digest, and poor girl couldn’t settle, no matter how much I smoothed her.
At 5am, I got up, and cooked scrambled eggs for us all. It’s worked before in settling her stomach, and was a must for her breakfast for years, especially when we were traveling.
By 5.30, we were all suitably dopey to retire back to bed.
Winds of 47-54 mph are classed as a strong gale (Beaufort scale).
A hurricane is more than 74mph.
Whatever it was classed as, the wind hit us hard around 6am and jostled us more than just a little bit. It was relentless in its attack as rain lashed the boat too, but we slept on until well after 9.
When I woke up, Hubby put his finger to his lips as Maggie was still fast asleep, tummy silent. We think she may have felt a little sea sick.
Together, we listened to the storm outside, knowing eventually we would have to get up to take her out in it for her first wee of the day. It would take the two of us to hold the canopy so that the wind didn’t get beneath it and make us airborne.
This is the stormiest weather since we arrived, even Bertha pales in comparison.
Boats in the marina have taken a bashing, but there seems to be no damage or loss of canopies, neither are there roof ornaments floating in the water, and Fred is still on guard.
We believe our neighbour wasn’t quite so fortunate as we heard a mad scramble for the hatchway and some retching. I wonder if he tried eggs?