Smoke Long Stories

Arrival (Day 163: 18/04/13)

As we approach Antigua I look off the stern. A storm front. By the time we are trying to pull into anchorage it’s on top of us. Within minutes our clothes are weighing down our bodies and a line of sight is non-existent. The rain feels as if it could be hail. We keep our concentration as the action of other traffic dances around us. The cold starts to settle on the surface of my skin. Richard has one hand on the wheel and the other shielding his face. I stumble to the lower deck and position myself near the anchor’s windlass. Time and space have sunk into me and I am left with chattering teeth as adrenalin runs it’s course. We find our way through shifting objects to a clear area and let the anchor go. It pulls itself to the bottom and sticks just as the rain subsides. We’ve arrived, we’re good. I start to laugh.

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This entry was published on 18/04/2013 at 11:15 and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.
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