There is a reason that boats, ships, and airplanes are named after women. And, until recently, so were storms.
They are unpredictable. They change their minds, paths, and destinations. They will turn on you in a moment. They follow a logic that no man can fathom. And yet, somehow, they are irresistible, fascinating, mesmerizing, and all consuming. Such has been the case with my lovely bride, Carol (whom I love dearly). And with Florence (a hurricane that I DO NOT).
We left spontaneously Monday around 3:00pm for Oriental to secure the boat, after learning of potential road closures the next day. Arriving in New Bern about 7:30, we had a dinner in the (deserted) hotel restaurant (still managing to receive poor service. We're the only ones here, people!) and crashed. Leaving around 6:00am the next day, we pulled into Point Marina at 6:30 and started prepping the boat for the upcoming storm.
The forecast was dire. The thing I was most worried about was the storm surge, which was predicted to lift Sea Bird somewhere around 4-6 feet above the fixed dock she is tied to. How do you rig for that?
I did my best.
Then we returned to our home in Concord, Leaving her to her fate. It could be worse. We heard from friends, that live near Oriental. They have packed themselves into a car, along with children, dog, and parents, and are fleeing their home, coming to Charlotte for refuge. That puts our life into perspective. We have a place to escape to. So many do not.
So, for the nonce, Clambake will have to look after Sea Bird through the storm. We will go back down after the event and see how Sea Bird has fared. Hopefully, she is sitting pretty in her slip. Or someone else's slip, but still floating. Or not. It doesn't really matter, in the great scope and sweep of human existence. I am still alive, and so is my lovely bride.
And we have each other. And that, after all, is enough.
They are unpredictable. They change their minds, paths, and destinations. They will turn on you in a moment. They follow a logic that no man can fathom. And yet, somehow, they are irresistible, fascinating, mesmerizing, and all consuming. Such has been the case with my lovely bride, Carol (whom I love dearly). And with Florence (a hurricane that I DO NOT).
We left spontaneously Monday around 3:00pm for Oriental to secure the boat, after learning of potential road closures the next day. Arriving in New Bern about 7:30, we had a dinner in the (deserted) hotel restaurant (still managing to receive poor service. We're the only ones here, people!) and crashed. Leaving around 6:00am the next day, we pulled into Point Marina at 6:30 and started prepping the boat for the upcoming storm.
The forecast was dire. The thing I was most worried about was the storm surge, which was predicted to lift Sea Bird somewhere around 4-6 feet above the fixed dock she is tied to. How do you rig for that?
I did my best.
Then we returned to our home in Concord, Leaving her to her fate. It could be worse. We heard from friends, that live near Oriental. They have packed themselves into a car, along with children, dog, and parents, and are fleeing their home, coming to Charlotte for refuge. That puts our life into perspective. We have a place to escape to. So many do not.
So, for the nonce, Clambake will have to look after Sea Bird through the storm. We will go back down after the event and see how Sea Bird has fared. Hopefully, she is sitting pretty in her slip. Or someone else's slip, but still floating. Or not. It doesn't really matter, in the great scope and sweep of human existence. I am still alive, and so is my lovely bride.
And we have each other. And that, after all, is enough.
Sea Bird, in happier times.