The Calm after the Storm ...

It was an 'Oh Shit' morning.  We had anchored on the south side of Rose Island the day before seeking protection from the north winds.  Some adverse weather was a possibility with some squalls, but oh my what would come.

It was 5:35 am.  After a peaceful night at anchor we bolted out of bed as the peace was overcome by wind and rain.  On deck the mild north winds had become a violent 35 knots sustained out of the south.  Rain poured from the sky making it impossible to see the lights of Nassau despite their being just 3 miles away.  Waves had built instantly and we found ourselves rolling over 3-4 footers.  Our stern was now pointed directly into the island's rocky shoreline.  Fortunately, the anchor adapted to the 180 degree shift and held us at bay.

In the darkness we watched the anchor lights of the 5 boats who had opted to cluster together just east of our location and we were thankful we had opted to put some distance between us.  We saw as one of the boats drug anchor towards the shoreline as the Captain and crew fought to raise the hook and move themselves from harms way.

The beating went on for 45 minutes.  We watched the chart plotter and shoreline making sure our position remained secure.  It was just about this time that I decided we were not in a squall.  This was something much more.  After all squalls are short bursts of energy that fade rather quickly - this was anything but. 

Then the wind shifted to the west and started to intensify.  The wind indicator started climbing - 35 knots became 40, then 43, 48 and finally broke 50 knots.  Dave and I just starred at each other.  He quickly started the engines and began motoring into the wind trying to take some of the load off the anchor.  The wind in the rigging howled.  We watched. We waited.  The winds began to clock back to the north.  Finally, an hour and a half into the storm weather began to abate and we were thankful when the wind finally dropped to 30.

Later that day we dove the anchor curious to see what the sands would tell us.  Despite all the wind shifts, the Rocna made one adjustment and moved about 10 foot before reseating itself in the sands.   Thank heaven for good ground tackle.

The Admiral