Clifton Harbour is not a very comfortable place even in settled weather it tends towards the rolly side of things. What makes Clifton Harbour dicey is that it is unprotected from the wind, there is only a barrier reef between you and the ocean to the east. So, when a squall hits wave action is limited by the reef but you get the full force of the wind. We knew that staying in Clifton during a tropical wave passage could be problematic, but the wave wasn't predicted to be very strong so we decided to stay thru the weekend to avoid paying overtime fees for clearing out of here and then clearing in on Carriacou during a weekend. Well yesterday evening we could have lost more than a few bucks in over time fees, when a squall associated with the tropical wave rolled thru here just before sunset. Using the internet I checked the radar from Martinique earlier in the afternoon, After viewing it I figured the wave was going to pass over us right around sunset. Our normal approach to dealing with squalls in an anchorage, if we're aboard, is that one of us sits in the cockpit watching for the squall. Our biggest concern is boat's dragging anchor, either ours or someone around us. Last evening I was in the cockpit watching for the squall's approach, not being concerned about other boats dragging into us because there were none between us and the barrier reef. However I am always concerned about our anchor breaking loose, even though in this instance we had already stayed put through a squall the previous day. In any case at about 5:00 pm local time I spotted the squall's signature black cloud line off to the east. The wind hit first followed quickly by a torrential rain that reduced visibility to about two hundred feet. Foggy Mountain was being thrown about quite a bit by the wind, the waves were about two feet in the harbor. On one of her bow's swings to port I noticed that she seemed to go further than the previous swings. But then she went back to starboard and seemed to be normal. Followed by another swing to port, but this time I knew that something was wrong because she went way further than the last time. Since Pam was down below I yelled to her, "we're dragging get the engine started and turn on the windlass." About the same time that I said that one of our neighboring boats tried to tell us that we were dragging. Nice to know that even charters look out for boats around them. After Pam got the engine started and turned on the windlass we met in the cockpit and I distinctly remember both of us looking astern of the boat at the reef behind us. We were about 100 feet from running aground on the reef. Before I went forward to deal with the anchor I told Pam to put the engine in forward and just keep the bow into the wind. Just trying to maintain position our until I can get started pulling in the anchor. I then went to the bow of the boat being pelted by the forty knot wind driven rain. Before I got to the bow I was soaked to the skin, my second shower in the last hour. Pam was doing a great job holding us in position and I began to bring anchor chain in with the windlass. While doing this I was staying as low as possible because the bow was simultaneously moving up and down and side to side. But I couldn't stay too low because I had to stay high enough to signal Pam back in the cockpit. I signaled her to keep the bow pointed into the wind and move forward as I brought in the chain. With still no change to the conditions she moved us forward into the wind and I hauled in the anchor chain until I could see the anchor. The anchor was covered with sand so it must have been dug in somewhat. In any case, I now had to get us closer to the reef in front where the water was shallower thereby putting some precious distance between us and the reef behind us. Seeing shallower water in front of us was growing more difficult by the minute because the sun was setting. So I could only give it my best guess based on the position of the boats around us and I lowered the anchor at that best guess. At which point, I told Pam to put the engine in neutral. At this point the wind took the boat backwards, which is alright because I want the chain to lay out on the bottom not be in a pile. But the chain payed out faster than I anticipated and it took all the strength I could must to slow it down. Once I had payed out enough chain, more than we had before as a precaution, I had to connect the snubber which is the nylon line that we hook to the chain to take the strain off of the windlass. The snubber also acts as a shock absorber because it stretches where the chain would not which reduces shock loading on the boat and the anchor when the boat moves around at anchor. I hooked the snubber to the chain and released the brake on the windlass slackening the chain while simultaneously taking the strain on the snubber. I screwed up by not having enough of a turn around the bow cleat so the line started to get away from me. The full weight of the boat was on that line at this point, this is a time when people have lost fingers by getting them between the line and the cleat. I pulled with all my strength on the line in front of the cleat and managed, with a momentary reduction in the wind, to take the strain off the line at the cleat long enough to grab more line from behind me and wrap it around the cleat. After getting the snubber secured I went aft to Pam in the cockpit. I was freezing cold shaking in the first stage of hypothermia. The combination of the wind and rain must have lowered my body temperature quite a bit, not something that I expected to happen here in the tropics. I got the wet clothes off and we began the longest night that I can remember while at anchor.

I took the first anchor watch and told Pam to go below and try to sleep because she may have to relieve me later. She deserved the sleep since she had done such a great boat handling job in those adverse conditions. I then took bearings of fixed objects around us to make it easier to determine if we started dragging again. I sat in the cockpit for the next eight hours hoping that the wind would decrease and watching what I could see around me to make sure that neither we nor anyone around us was dragging. The wind did decrease to about 25 knots after about an hour or so. Then blow at that rate for awhile, all I remember thinking was that I wished that the wind generator would slow down something that I normally don't wish for at night as it keeps the battery power up. Pam woke up around midnight, at my four hour mark, and I told her I was fine and to go back to sleep. Then she came up at about four this morning and I took the opportunity to go below and get some sleep. Fortunately, we did not drag again last night and this morning Pam suggested I check the radar again to see what we have in store for us today. The radar showed that we have more rain coming our way and the forecast indicated the wind was supposed to shift from the east to the southeast. Given that information we decided to re-anchor, primarily because we didn't have enough room with a schooner anchored to our north if the wind did shift to the southeast. After re-anchoring Pam went to sleep and I took some more bearings on fixed objects around us, beginning the watch cycle again. If we stay put for the rest of today irregardless of squalls we might both get some decent sleep tonight. If all goes well today and tonight, we hope to check out with Customs here tomorrow morning so we can get underway for the next island south of here which is Carriacou. Carriacou is part of Grenada and our check in there will begin our southern stay for what we hope will be a sanctuary for hurricane season. We'll let you know how things turn out in our next update.