(Photo: Marine blows a conch shell at sunset as a cold front approaches)

After a day of dithering about where to go to sit out the cold front, I finally decided to stay put, and yesterday afternoon during a lull in the wind I shifted the boat a few hundred yards to the east and closer to the lee shore, which provided ample protection from the north-easterly winds. Chatter on the VHF radio was split between who was seeking shelter where, and getting updates on the scores of the NFL games. Before sunset I dove on the anchor to ensure it was properly buried in the sandy bottom, and we watched the cold front advance from the north in the form of a line of dark gray clouds. The wind soon veered from west at five knots, to north at fifteen, and then north-east at twenty-five. Any plans to go ashore to watch the football games were literally blown away; I shifted to the port aft bunk near the cockpit, set the anchor alarm on the chart-plotter, kept the key in the ignition, and made sure I had a lifejacket, foghorn, and spotlight handy in case I needed to flash up and shift the boat in the event that we dragged too close to another vessel, or pay out more anchor chain. As it was, the anchor was dug in firm, and the chart-plotter recorder that we travelled nearly five miles overnight just swinging at anchor. I woke up several times (actually, just about every hour on the hour, amazing how one's internal routine can shift into heightened alert mode...) to check the plotter and survey the anchorage area to make sure that we and everyone else was where they should be. I feel an afternoon snooze coming on...