Close Call

So there I was...too weak to stand, crawling on my hands and knees from the cockpit of Eventide into the main cabin.  A few years ago a hurricane was making its way up the east coast bent on hitting New England.  Many boats had been pulled out of the water and placed safely ashore in expectation of the very high winds and waves expected to hit the Mystic, CT area.  Several boats that were moored next to me headed up nearby rivers to get some protection inland.  I looked at this as a great adventure.  To ride out the storm on my mooring, a 1,200 pound train wheel and axle securely planted offshore at the mouth of the Mystic River, and feel what it's like to be in the middle of all the action.  By late morning the winds began to increase as I put the finishing touches on all the extra lines I had attached to every available cleat on the boat with an abundance of chafing gear to keep them from wearing through once the waves got crazy.  As I looked around there was nobody anywhere to be seen on the remaining boats near me.  After preparing their boats they had headed for shore.  I was taking lots of pictures as the storm grew in intensity, fascinated by the incredible forces knocking my boat around,  like it was a mere toy.  Then several boats broke away from their moorings, one almost ramming me on its way to crashing onto the rocks at shore.  This was all quite an adrenaline rush and I was thinking that I was glad I got to have a front seat to this spectacle when something happened that I didn't expect.  I got seasick.  As the storm churned it's worst with no end in sight I relinquished my lunch, then breakfast, then yesterdays dinner to the sea from the aft rail of the cockpit.  Though I had no more to give, my stomach had obviously missed the memo.  Eventually, from the many hours I'd spent in the strong winds and my drained physical condition, my core temperature and hydration were getting to dangerous levels as I started shaking uncontrollably.  No longer able to stand, I fell to the floor of the cockpit keeping my eyes shut to stop the dry heaving that refused to cease.  Knowing I was in real trouble here with no one able to get to me in these conditions, I crawled, eyes closed, into and through the main cabin getting tossed onto my side several times from the violent jerking of the boat straining against the mooring lines as one huge wave after another made contact with Eventide.  Finally making it to the V-berth I flopped on my bunk and blindly started pulling anything my hands could reach on top of me to hold in the heat.  After about two hours I finally stopped shaking though the storm raged on for many more hours.  By next morning friends came to check on their boats and gave me a ride to shore, beaten up but still in one piece.  And boy was I hungry.