It's eight-thirty in the morning, the sun is up and light fills a blue sky, however these small facts defy the reality of the situation. Outside a 45 knot gale is raging, what is famously known here in the Mediterranean as "Il Maestrale", and even though we're securely anchored, it feels more like we're being tossed about in rough seas.
There's no going ashore until the wind drops; it's too angry out there to launch the tender. We'll just have to ride out the washing machine until the spin cycle is complete. On deck is no place to be, but I peer out anyway to gauge the severity of the situation- the wind rudely smacks me in the face, yes, I'm certainly awake now. Across the bay I can see mega sailing yacht Jasali 2 is also riding it out at anchor, she's heeled over and swinging hard on her dual anchor chains. I'm hoping for her crew's sake she doesn't have guests on board today. She's amongst a pack of huge yachts, some are easily two-hundred feet long but the Mistral is pounding them all just the same- she plays no favorites here.
Giamma wasn’t leaving anything to chance.
At two this morning Giamma, Carmen and Simone were out on deck repositioning the anchor during the worst of it, we had slipped a bit, we were doing ok, but Giamma wasn't leaving anything to chance. He wasn't going to sleep until dawn either, our captain's face is currently showing the wear and tear of last night's activities. Art is wiped too, he'd gone out to help the guys when he heard them outside. At the moment the boat is pretty quiet, except of course for the relentless howling, everyone is either sleeping or just awake enough to make a coffee. This is a very different Sardinia from the placid paradise we experienced a month ago in Porto Cervo, but par for the course in these parts; welcome to Med sailing!
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