I left you as we were dealing with a couple of mosquitos in the cabin. It took us until about 10 to get the last pesky beast who was excellent at staying in flight. What a minor problem that was. As we settled down to sleep - I in the front cabin, John on the floor of the salon, we were doing what we could to stay cool. The air was still, the bay looked like a mirror, it was hot and stuffy. Regardless, we both fell asleep quickly. A couple of hours later, at midnight, I woke to find the boat rocking jerkily and in different directions - back and forth, side to side. The wind was howling. I looked up through my hatch for a couple of minutes to see if the scenery up there was changing. It was, but it does when we are swinging. Still, I called to John - is the anchor alarm on? He woke up slowly 'No but.... Where did all this wind come from?'. He had checked the weather earlier in the day and it had shown the storms crossing the east of America going north of us. Our forecast had been for light winds of 2 knots all night. These winds were more like 10. John got up quickly and checked the anchor- it seemed to be holding. He came back down, set the anchor alarm, and then went up to check again. He rushed back down and switched the instrument panel on. 'I need to check the depth!'. As he raced back up to the deck, the anchor alarm went off. I slipped a sundress on as John came back down and switched the batteries to both- that is what we have to do before starting the engine. I knew things were not going to plan by the urgency in John's voice, 'I need you on deck now!'. I stopped to grab our big flashlight on my way, not realizing quite how desperate things were. John had started the engine quickly and had set the wheel as he wanted. 'Hold her here - I'm going to pull the anchor.' I nodded and grabbed the wheel. I looked behind me and was shocked to see we were only about 150 feet from the shore. The house behind us had a dock with a boat that we would soon be blown onto. I looked ahead and concentrated on my job. As John lifted the anchor, he yelled directions such as 'reverse!', 'neutral!'. I yelled back as each command was followed. We were yelling not out of fear or frustration, but just to be heard above the howling wind, the waves slapping Solitude and the shore and Timmy barking from the cabin. By this time our boat was horizontal to the shore, and to the boat on the dock. 'We are off anchor, go left!' I put the engine on full speed to counter the wind. I turned the wheel to get Solitude pointing towards the bay - she moved painfully slowly. By the time John came back to the wheel we were finally pointing towards the bay. John grabbed the wheel. 'I need the GPS on.' We needed to know our exact location- I rushed to the salon, switched the GPS on, ignored the indignant dog, and dashed back up. As I grabbed the flashlight from the cockpit, I saw the navigation screen- we were in the shallows. I knew what I had to do though. As we had come into the bay there were dozens of crab pots - if we got a line from a crab pot wrapped around our propeller at this stage it would be disastrous. It would also be disastrous if I fell off the boat, so I carefully made my way to the bow, holding on at each point. Once at the bow, it took me a few seconds to learn where to aim the flashlight to light up the water ahead of us. When I was happy, I held the flashlight steady. At this point, all was going well for plan B. We were heading back to the middle of the bay. Even though it was bumpy, it was controlled. 'Okay, swap with me' John called and I went back to the cockpit to hold the wheel while John came forward to drop the anchor. He tested it several times and then kept the engine on for an hour. We were ready for it to drag again. The wind continued to howl, we could see lightening in the distance. We came back to the salon to comfort a distraught dog and to watch the anchor alarm. We looked at each other and smiled - phew! The adrenaline however continued to pump as John looked at his weather app showing the storm continuing to head directly over us. 'Cup of tea?'. We may live in America but are undoubtedly still British. After our cup of tea, we saw that the radar showed a gap between storms. We decided to get a couple of hours sleep before the next band came across. John set his alarm for 3:30. How we fell back to sleep so quickly I don't know, but we did. We both woke to the alarm and listened. No wind, no waves. 'Is the storm coming?', I finally asked? 'No, it went north of us'. We turned over and went back to sleep. Morning rightly began at 9:30 am. 'How did you sleep?' I asked John wryly. 'Great- just dreamt about Solitude being washed ashore.' Funny that, I had the same dream. Photo of the calm before the storm.