I understand that wind is integral to the thermal protection of our atmosphere. But I don't have to like it.
The first couple of times I went out on a sailboat (first Greece then Chesapeake Bay), there was no wind. We stayed put. Stagnated. Not a bad fix to be in, to my mind.
Then Pope and I sailed to Smith Island, a crab-pickers' paradise threatened with global sea rise. A sudden 30-mph gust ripped our jib sail. A few seasons later, heading north on the Bay, we were spun like a top by an unexpected waterspout. Oh, wind. My nemesis.
For two days this week, motoring northward on the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway, we were held back by strong adverse wind, pushing back on our boat and blowing in our faces all day.
My eyes felt like sandpaper.
Last night, we pulled up to a dock and tied down securely in anticipation of major thunderstorms--lightning, heavy rains approaching 20-30 mph. The night was restless.sandpaper.whistled through masts and ripped sail covers nearby.
This morning, a third crew member came on board in anticipation of a calmer day.
In this video, you can hear the wind gusts here at the marina. Where we just signed up for a second night, to wait for the wind and the bridges.