False Alarm (Crete)

 

        21st Oct 2019 (Crete)

Well our calm and peaceful haven on the far side of the bay at Elounda has been transformed into a howling tempest for the night.

It’s just gone 3am, and I’m yet to sleep. The wind had been picking up throughout the day, enough that we took the outboard off the tender before it got dark as a precaution in case it flipped.

The wind is accompanied by a fairly large rolly sea that keeps us bobbing around and the snubber line squealing. Before bed we’d decided that the bridle would be a better option on the anchor chain rather than the rope snubber, so we donned life jackets and head torches, put the deck light on, and started making our way forward. Having popped our heads around the spray hood, and felt the full force of the wind and the deck rapidly moving under our feet, decided that although putting the bridle on was indeed a wonderful idea, it wasn’t worth risking our safety for a journey to the bow to accomplish it - so with a ‘Sod that’ - we headed back below.

Earlier we’d watched a couple of episodes of Survivor South Africa (Island of Secrets) before Chez retired hurt - shoulder still giving her considerable discomfort. She took a sleeping tablet and left me watching Game of Thrones. The battery died on the laptop around midnight, so I turned in.

The noise of the water slapping and howling wind outside made sleep impossible, so I just lay there. I’m checking the spaghetti pattern on Navionics that tracks our position to make sure the anchor hasn’t dragged. At 2:30, having been checking the screen every 5/10mins  after every time the snubber squealed on the cleat, I was shocked to see we had dragged!

Action stations - woke Chez ‘ We’ve dragged and you have to wake up!’. (Which she did very well considering she’d popped a Mickey)

I went up and turned the outside light and the engine on. There’s a half moon in a clear sky so I can see we’re still some way from land. Panic stations can reduce a little while we both get jumpers on. 

As I stand at the helm, not knowing quite what I should be doing, Chez checks why the anchor app on the other phone hasn’t sounded - and it shows us still within the acceptable range. 

I stare bemused at the Navionics screen for a while longer then decide that the massive ‘drag’ shown on the screen must be some sort of GPS anomaly, as we are now bobbing around slap bang in the middle of the spaghetti again.

Make tea, (ginger for Chez - I call it Gingari, which amuses us both a little).

She heads back off to bed, and I sit in the main cabin writing this - suspect I’ll stay up for a while longer watching Navionics, at least until either the weather calms down, or my eyelids droop enough to let me sleep.

Woke at 10ish the next morning, wind has diminished to just ‘windy’. Discovered the freyed end of the snubber rope hanging folornly at the bow.. the hook that connects to the anchor being lost to the deep.