Day 2
I climbed on deck at 7:00 in the morning, finding myself in the middle of a crater of dense fog which reminded me of the episode with the helicopter pilot in Lem’s “Solaris”. Unsurprisingly, we hadn’t dragged anchor at night, but now I could hear the wind blowing through the bushes on the opposite bank. Peeking astern, I could see that the wind was blowing from the South now and the boat was swaying in a wide semi-circle (we had forgotten the anchor sail, too….) We proceeded to make some coffee and hot chocolate on the alcohol stove, noticing that we were also missing the coffee cups and the Italian coffee maker which I could have sworn I had put myself in one of the plastic bags. The fridge was still blinking red and the batteries were still half empty. No way would the solar panels work in such soupy fog.

The first batch of coffee came the same color as the waters outside, only a tad hotter. As we savored its nondescript aroma from plastic tumblers, we discussed the options for the day: go ashore and work on the trailer? Or maybe motor around and recharge the batteries in order to see what went wrong with the fridge? There was enough juice for the radio; we switched it on in the middle of a report that announced heavy weather moving North East, towards Illinois. Rain was also in the forecast and, sure enough, it was coming down hard by now. The wind started gusting, too, and Mihai noticed that the anchor was beginning to drag and we were getting closer to the muddy shore. All hands were summoned on deck. We quickly decided to forget about the coffee, start the engine, and pull away and to the middle of the cove, with the final aim of beaching the boat on Rodney’s bank. The ETEC started right away, but the depthfinder was dead, since its fuse had been cannibalized for the higher purpose of cold beer. Quickly, we scrambled below deck, pulled the cumbersome fridge out from under the starboard settee, put the fuse in its rightful place and restarted the engine which spluttered and died. The wind was blowing harder by now (past 15 knots, according to the TackTick weathervane) the boat had its fins and centerboard up and was drifting lazily towards the opposite bank, impossible to control without the engine. I jumped into the water, which was ass-deep and unseasonably cold, grabbed the anchor rode and attempted to pull Hai-Hui by the whiskers towards the shore, while Mihai dropped the other anchor to the stern, so we could pull ourselves away from the shore when we needed to. The rain was coming down hard by now and it was getting a little wetter than in the lake itself, but the shore was hard mud and I could get good traction. I planted the heavy anchor into the mud; it dug in like a claw. We pulled and heaved and finally Hai-Hui settled in a foot of water, riding over the shoreline, but still wagging its stern. I waddled to the back of the boat and grabbed the other anchor-line. It seemed secure enough, so we were able to have the boat at two anchors, which was the best we could do.


By now, the wind had picked up so much that it literally blew the dinghy out of the water and along the shore into a thicket grove some 100 yards away; we could see it from below the deck, through the streaming port windows, plastered against the bushes. The radio broadcasted in its indifferent, mechanical voice, a heavy weather advisory with winds gusting to 65 knots and damaging hail; we soon heard it rattling on the fiberglass deck, but the hail itself didn’t last long. People were advised to take shelter and stay away from the windows and the trees. There were no tall trees in our area, the shore was fairly steep and protected us from the south, even though gusts of wind were weaseling their way into the cove, following the curve of the shoreline, and spiraling around to find a way out. The boat tilted dangerously a couple of times, even though it was beached and the ballast tank was full, and the solar panels seemed to be uncomfortably flapping around, so I streamlined them and they held. The digital arrow on the TackTick showing the wind direction was swirling like crazy, and the wind speed soon hit the lower thirties, even though we were in a sheltered cove. Through sleets of rain, one could glimpse furious ripples across the main lake in the distance; by comparison, our cove offered good protection. We congratulated ourselves for the good sense of beaching the boat in a muddy area instead of motoring along the lake whose banks are oftentimes rocky; at least I knew this mud hole intimately.

The weather advisory was extended for another 45 minutes and, by 10:00, the show was over. The wind subsided and the rain turned into a mild drizzle. The main anchor held well in the hardened mud; the stern anchor probably dragged a little, even though we gave it plenty of rode. I put on my shorts, keeping the only long pair of pants I had in a somewhat dry condition, and waddled along the shore to retrieve the dinghy and returned to the boat. The only towel on boars was already wet, along with the rest of the clothes we had; there was a little water under the companionway hatch, but all in all, the boat held nicely; the cockpit cushions were soggy, but they would dry out sooner or later. We had another cup of coffee and decided to return to Rodney’s by dinghy, leaving Hai-Hui beached behind.

This was a bit of a fore-taste of bad weather that we might experience in the islands, I thought, but the comparison is still contrived; I knew that nothing truly dangerous could happen to us in the muddy cove, save for a broken, mud-plugged engine (if this is the case, the expedition will have to be postponed for at least two weeks to change the water-pump and the impeller). I was still happy to see that the panels held, along with the heavy anchor. We returned by dinghy, forgetting the tobacco and the pipes behind.

Once at Rodney’s, we had pancakes and real coffee, while the sun was beginning to peek through the haze. Maybe the batteries will get charged by tomorrow and we’ll be able to figure out what went wrong with the fridge. The other one we have, the EdgeStar draws twice as much power and I am afraid we won’t be able to keep it running along with all the other electronics, unless the Bahama days are much longer and sunnier than the ones we’ve had so far.

This little adventure left us drained; we returned home claiming to be in dire need of dry socks and underwear, ate a hearty meal and went straight to bed for an afternoon nap. The air outside is sticky and the temperature goes up by the hour. I plucked out our laundry from the clotheslines and they are still damp.