Weather Helmed

Obviously, the most noteworthy thing that’s occurred recently has been the moms’ trip to Moorea, which I will post about next.  But, I want to quickly jot down something else, just for posterity.

Last night, Matt and I slept outside in the cockpit because Jon has been re-finishing the salon sole down below and the whole cabin smelled overwhelmingly of mineral spirits – not exactly a lavender, sleep-inducing fragrance.  So, we are up on deck sleeping peacefully when a squall comes through.  It starts to rain on us a little bit, but no big deal, we just pull our fleece blanket up and snuggle closer.  We are *this close* to dreamland when the wind kicks up and the shade structure we have (canvas stretched beam to beam, over the boom and nearly all the way back to the solar panels) is lifted by a gust and all the cold rainwater that had collected on the canvas sloshes across and dumps itself all over my face.

For some reason, this sort of thing has become the norm for Matt and me on the boat.  Last night’s incident reminded me of a similar thing that happened on our passage from Rangiroa to Tahiti.

Matt and I were sleeping down below, nestled together on the starboard settee.  We had wind and waves hitting us on the beam, making for a wet but quite comfortable sail.  Because it was a short passage, we had stowed the dinghy, still inflated, upside down on the foredeck, covering the center hatch.  From down below, we opened the hatch as much as we could to still allow for some airflow under the dinghy into the cabin.  Around maybe 1AM, when Matt and I are fast asleep, the boat lurches hard and suddenly, gallons of seawater come pouring over the deck, under the dinghy and down through the hatch, completely soaking Matt and I from head to waist.

What’s up with that?!?!?!?!!?!?

I swear this boat is out to get us.