40 Winks

Yesterday was the 4th of July, and we spent it on the boat. We had a few friends out to go sailing, eat some burgers and dogs, and drink the insane quantities of beer I had purchased for the day’s festivities.

In the afternoon it had begun to rain, and our friends had gone home. Todd and I watched the fireworks over Newport Harbor from our state room in the aft end of the boat. The rain continued, and the wind picked up. We had heard that the wind would be up to 30 mph overnight. Not a problem, hell, we were on a mooring on the boat when Hurricane Charley came through here. Though by the time the storm got to RI, it had been downgraded to a tropical storm. Still the winds from that storm were way stronger than they were last night, so we weren’t worried about the weather.

The roof over our stateroom leaks. When it rains, we cannot sleep in our comfy bed in the state room, and have to sleep on the bunks in the v-berth (the very front of the boat.) It’s nice and dry in the v, but not as comfortable as the aft stateroom. We settled down to sleep, as the wind tugged our boat taut from the mooring. The mooring lines clomped against the side of the boat. The boat rocked up and down, and side to side. I held my body rigid in my bunk so I wouldn’t roll out of it. Holding one’s body rigid doesn’t make one want to sleep, however.

I tossed and turned. I listened to the wind howl, I listened to the mooring lines clomp clomp clomp against the hull. I drifted off, only to be woken by a squeaky beagle. He must have woken up on his pillow in the aft state room and realized that his people were not in bed, where he could easily climb up between them, to siphon off of their body heat. Nemo couldn’t jump on the bunks in the v. They are too high for him to make the jump without a running start. There’s no room for a running start with the compression post from the mast right in the middle of his runway. I helped him up, and he nestled up to my legs, and promptly dozed off.

Beagle snoring.

Clomp clomp clomp of the mooring lines against the hull.

Up.

Down.

Left.

Right.

Holding my body rigid, trying to drift off again. I decided I’d had it, and decided to sleep in the aft state room.

I surveyed the bed in the aft state room, and discovered that only 1 corner of the mattress was wet. I set myself up on the other side, and settled down to sleep. I drifted off, to a blissful sleep.

I woke what seemed like 2.4 seconds later to something repeatedly touching my face. Another leak had sprung just over my head, and was drip drip dripping against my cheek. I scooted my pillow toward the center of the bed, and drifted off again.

Then I heard it. Bam! Bam! Bam! The wind had shifted, and the kayak tied to the back of the boat was now slamming into the back of the boat, just outside of where I was trying to sleep.

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I thought to myself, as I listened to the kayak repeatedly ram into the transom of the boat. I contemplated getting out a knife and freeing the kayak, and then considered the wet, cold air that waited for me up on deck. I decided that warm, dry(ish) and noisy was better than wet and cold. Eventually the kayak caught up to the shifting wind, and pulled itself back from the boat. I drifted off once again.

“BJ?” I heard from the v. “Beej? Where are you?”

Again I thought “You have got to be kidding me.” I nestled down deeper into my blankets. He’ll figure out that I came to sleep in the aft state room. Todd came padding into the stateroom, and felt the edges of the bed, “Beej, this bed is soaked on the edges, how are you sleeping in here?”

I mumbled something about less noisy, and how it was dry on the spot where I was sleeping. He went back to his nest in the v.

Then I heard it. Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding.

The wind was slapping the halyard against the mizzen mast, which is right above the aft state room.

Ding ding ding ding ding ding.

Damn. We had not secured the rope that raises and lowers the mizzen sail, and now it was slapping against the aluminum mast.

Ding ding ding ding.

Bam. Bam. Bam. The kayak was fighting with the boat again.

I jammed the pillow up over my head, and then I heard it.

Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep beep.

The alarm clock going off in the v. Time to wake up and go to work. Todd pushed the snooze button, and we drifted off once again.