It was a Dark And Stormy Night... no, really

A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Mon 6 Jun 2011 16:43
35:15.62N
075:18.56W
 
Sometimes, it really is a 'dark and stormy night'. I could search around for another description, but this one does the job pretty well. By about 4pm, the wind had gone round to the north, so we found ourselves close hauled and heading east. But not just 'heading' east. We were plunging and rolling and lurching east, shipping water over the bows and heeling at about 25 degrees - even with two reefs in. Every now and then, a particularly awkward steep wave would send Summer Song skittering sideways, and dislodge things from safe places throughout the boat.
 
In the night, the motion became more uncomfortable still and no one really slept, but at least the wind veered on round to the east, allowing Alex and Graham to tack back onto our northerly course. Every now and then, a really heavy wave would send a few unwelcome drops through the sealed fo'c'sle hatch onto my face. Alex also had some light refreshment through one of the portholes above her head. These leaks are small and should be easily fixed before we leave on our return crossing.
 
The shipping was quite heavy, with a stream of tankers and cargo ships sliding past to port and starboard. Our radar reflector seems to be doing a good job, and again we saw ships altering course around us. At one point towards dawn, I saw a huge vessel pass slowly by, with a line of bright lights just above the waterline. It was hard to tell in the murk, with just the odd stab of distant lightning to illuminate the seascape, but I think it could have been an aircraft carrier. Lots of the US fleet is based just around the corner in Norfolk, where we're going.
 
As I type, we're passing Cape Hatteras, marked by a strange flat lighthouse perched above the waves on four enormous legs. It squats like a tripod, or some sort of misplaced chunk of Brighton pier. Our course bends north now and then back slightly west into the Chesapeake. It means the worst of our 850-mile passage is now behind us, with just over 130 miles left to run. We're expecting to drop the hook in Norfolk Road tomorrow mid afternoon. The donk is back on and it looks like being an undemanding leg. The only question left is whether Alex will finish her latest Stieg Larsson book and return from Sweden before we arrive.
 
Before I forget, Alex's mahi made an excellent fish supper for three. She traded me the washing up at lunch for gutting the fish - a good deal on my part, I think. Graham stewed the fellow in foil with lemon and herbs and, though it took an hour in the oven, it emerged tasting almost sweet, it was so fresh.