We were just nodding off around midnight, when Richard commented that the wind was coming around to blow a westerly. This had been expected, so nothing untoward. But it blew up quite quickly. We checked the anchor holding, and were happy that it was steadfast. For the next three hours we dozed fitfully. MB swung to-and-fro on her anchor. Our cabin hatch was wide open, and as we swung one-way, cold wind came in, causing us to pull the duvet over. As we swung the other way, we very quickly got hot, and shrugged it off. It finally dawned on us to close the hatch!
When we started out from Canet-en-Roussillon, we didn’t bother with a duvet, and just used the cover as a light throw. Temperatures have dropped at night, and after a chilly sleep, we pulled the duvet out, and haven’t really bothered to put it away again.
The wind whistled through the rigging. It sounded quite loud, and high. A few strange noises caused us to jump up and check all was well. We chatted on and off, and remembered an occasion in 2002, when we were anchored up in the Whitsunday Islands in Australia. We had a permanent SE F6 wind all day and all night for a week and a 2M swell outside the islands on the Pacific side. One night the anchor chain made a strange graunching noise all night [Ed, on the rocky bottom]. We were like meerkats as we popped our heads up through the forward hatch, to check all was well.
At 3am, Richard went to put the instruments on, so that he could link his phone screen to them and check on boat statistics from the comfort of bed. Technology is wonderful. The wind was actually only F4, it just sounded much worse. He could also track MB’s movement on the anchor, and could see we hadn’t moved an inch. He also set an alarm, to tell us if the boat moved more than 20 metres. We finally fell asleep, and slept through until about 8am.
The wind is the tramontana, gusting down from France. We could go around the north west tip of Sardinia, but the bays that are sheltered will be choc-a-bloc with day tipper boats. We’ve noticed that the big gin-palaces turn up for the day but depart before nightfall. As some of the bays are mooring buoys only (i.e., you are not allowed to anchor), we would then have to wait around until (or if), a mooring buoy became free.
We have, therefore, decided to stay where we are today. The wind will come up a bit again later but our sturdy anchor will hold us. The wind drops tomorrow so we shall head off then. We might even do some chores around the boat. But should we put the duvet away?
With thanks to Spike Milligan…
Through every nook and every cranny
The wind blew in on poor Granny
Around her knees, and into each ear
And up her nose as well, I fear.
All through the night the wind grew worse
It nearly made the vicar curse
The top had fallen off the steeple
Just missing him (and other people).
It blew on man, it blew on beast
It blew on nun, it blew on priest
It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny
Bust most of all, it blew on Granny.