How lucky are the kids and I, most likely the luckiest girls alive. We just got our first taste of anchoring off a reef pass. For three hours we pitched and forked and rocked and rolled, in every direction possible. The movement was that of a violent, jerky roller coaster. We sailed out there and as soon as we arrived and sailed up and down the break to “check it out” I knew we would be in for torture. I gave SM strict instructions that we would anchor for three hours and if he wasn’t back by then I would be sailing away. So off SM goes in the dinghy, happy as a pig in mud, about to surf the first reef break on the trip. The whole reason we live on a boat and sail, so he can catch big heavy reef waves. By the time I get down into the cabin both the kids are in bed, most likely not feeling well and who could blame them. Trying to walk around down below is almost a cracked rib cage waiting to happen. For an hour I sat up watching out for him, worrying about sharks, the anchor dragging, him hitting the reef heavily, him getting washed into a cave and drowning etc etc just your everyday worries.
Then I got so sick of the movement and trying to tense every muscle in my body to stay upright and not bashing into anything ,that I took cover down below and huddled up in a ball on the floor. Here I slid up and down and across the floor, cleaning it up beautifully with my jumper and pants. The noise was horrendous everything in the boat clanged and banged, the water tanks sloshed around violently, the oven swinging out and then slamming back onto the wall with a thud before swinging back out again, the waves crashing down on the deck. Lets just say I was not a happy camper the kids were asleep, oblivious to the rage that was brewing inside me. Two hours later the surfer returned with an even bigger smile, basking in his glory of just having had a “super fun” surf. I had that engine on and fired up ready to go before he even got on board, well that’s at least how I thought it would play out but in fact I fell into a Travel calm (sea sickness tablets) coma. I woke to him singing and the smell of my daughter’s bowel evacuation. I stumble out to the cockpit ready to go, ready to get that anchor up and get out as quickly as possible and then he has the nerve to ask if I am happy to stay here for an hour or so more so he can go spear-fishing. I calmly gave him the look of destruction and he waltzed off to do the anchor. He did redeem himself and found a beautiful anchorage that was almost lake like. So for the next two to three years I will be enduring that torturous event more often than not and for days on end, not just a few hours. What did I get me and our kids into? Welcome to the life of chasing the surf, but never catching a wave or owning a surfboard!