Remember that calm relaxed evening I was telling you about last night?  Well it turned into one of the scariest nights of our lives, and being “at the mercy of the sea” took on a whole new meaning for us.

Here’s how Press of Atlantic City described it.  “A rare and extremely intense line of severe thunderstorms packing hurricane force wind gusts barreled its way across the region.”  Another described the storm’s impact as “unexpected ferocity.”  One hundred fifty thousand homes are without electricity.  One man was drowned and his buddy was rescued by the Coast Guard when his boat capsized in the Absecon Inlet where we were anchored.  A dredging barge close to bridge, but across the channel from us broke loose and was pushed underneath the fixed bridge.  Different sources put wind gusts at speeds of 50 to 70 miles per hour.  We have now learned we survived a durecho, a storm with straigtht line winds up to 90 miles/hr.   

So you ask, what were we doing, fast asleep after our 82 mile day?

Because we knew there was slight chance of thunderstorms, we made sure to close down all the hatches.  Dennis had run the air conditioner for a hour or so to cool the cabin at bedtime and we were sleeping comfortably.  I was awakened about 1:00a.m. when I saw flashes in the western sky.  Checking the radar I saw a large band of red and yellow approaching from the west, but still wasn’t overly concerned, especially because nothing had been predicted.  How bad could it be, right?  I worked quickly to remove the screens and batten down the hatches, bring in the cockpit cushions, pull down the front window on the dodger.  

By that time Dennis is awake asking, “What’s going on?” He double checked outside to see if I had missed anything before turning to the weather channel forecast.  They had just issued a severe thunderstorm warning lasting until 1:30 for Atlantic City, and it was already 1:10.  Deducing from their predictions it must be a fast-moving storm, twenty minutes.  Again we thought, how bad could it be?  By this time we were both dressed and ready for anything, or so we thought. 

That’s when being the “at the mercy of the sea” lesson began.  The boat began to pitch and thrash about.  We grabbed life jackets and then sat down to keep from being thrown into something and injured, Dennis and Fritz on the floor, I on the settee, but clinging on for dear life, asking each other and the Man up above, “How long can this go on?”  The winds were howling and ripping relentlessly at Aurora.  Dennis heard my deep breathing, and asked, “Are you having a baby.”  Guess it did sound kind of like practicing for Lamaze.  All kinds of thoughts go through your mind like, “What happens if the anchor gives way, will we run aground, capsize or bash into the bridge a few hundred yards away?”  Then we just pushed those out and prayed.      

About 50 minutes and many prayers later the winds finally died down to 10-20 knots.  Upon opening the cockpit doors Dennis was amazed to see we were in the same place as when we anchored, meaning the 44 pound Delta anchor had passed a hurricane strength wind test. The bimini covers seemed to be shredded, but he was able to unzip the front one and bring it below.  He also retrieved a 18” metal rod from the bimini which had somehow been twisted out of its supports and by chance fallen into the cockpit instead of the water.  With the rain and wind still pelting the boat total damage assessment would have to wait until in the morning.  Dennis was able to go back to bed about 2:30, but I, unable to sleep, lay on the settee and contemplated what had just happened.  I checked on the runaway dredging barge every once in a while, and noted they moved it way up the channel away from the bridge.  There were all kinds of emergency lights in the channel, beyond, on and below the bridge.  Finally able to sleep at 3:30 I moved back into the berth.

Needless to say, we slept in until about 7:30, then began to scour the boat for damage.  The bimini zippers had given way on one side, hanging, but still intact except for one pull and it was easily replaced.  Dennis secured the bimini rod, checked the sails and the dinghy.  The anchor rode had chaffed some where it was on the roller.  Other than that, we only lost one dorade, (not sure if that is how it is spelled) plastic vent cover.  Although we may discover other damage later, we feel very blessed to have gotten off cheaply for the “at the mercy of the sea,” lesson and thank God for another opportunity to cruise yet another day.

Dennis called it the worst storm he’d ever been in, and said again that it would be a bad idea to try and ride out a hurricane in a sailboat.  

Leaving Atlantic City behind was not a problem, as we were glad to be on our way again.  After arriving in Cape May a couple came by in a panic and asked if there were more storms on the way.  Dennis had just checked the radar, and told them none were showing.  They then proceeded to tell us they were anchored here last night with six other sailboats when 40 mph winds came through.  Their boat was the only one not adrift until another smashed into them.  Shook up, but thankfully no one was hurt.  Unbelieveable!  After which we offered up a few more prayers of thanksgiving for our protection from the raging winds.