CHECKED out the boat yesterday, ad everything is peachy. Still no power at the house. Headed back today to put the sails on and meet up with Adam, Deborah and the boys for an afternoon in the sun.

POWER went out at 10pm last night as a transformer right outside the house blew with a spectacular bang.  Thus, we are at Panera enjoying the elixir of life and bagels, and, along with everyone else in the joint, using the internet.  We have no phone or internet at all at the house now, though I’m hoping to pick up my phone at the marina today.  Will post as soon as I can on the state of the boat, which is probably fine, given that winds weren’t as bad as predicted.

I’VE come to realise that there’s something so under-appreciated, so completely taken for granted, that most people don’t even realise it’s there. No, I’m not talking about Vanilla Ice’s seminal album ‘To The Extreme’–although srsly. I’m talking about land.

Land. It’s always there when you need it, unless you are unwise enough to leave it on, say, a boat. You can stand on it and it doesn’t wobble (parts of California excepted). You can grow things in it, build things on it, dig holes in it that stay holes for quite a long time unlike in water. Granted, you can drown in it, but it takes a lot of effort; and it hurts more if you fall on it, but that can be avoided by not climbing too high.

Somebody ought to invent a some kind of boat that travels on land. The intractability of solid ground would probably require these ‘land-ships’ to run on some kind rolling device, similar to a ship’s wheel, but attached to the bottom of the hull, rather than trying to plough through the earth itself, which might prove slow (although really, boats aren’t exactly quick anyway). The technical obstacles might be difficult, but not insurmountable.

That’s all for this week; next week, we’ll explore how living on land might limit the risk of being stung/bitten/eaten by sea creatures.

You know the term "jury-rigged"? We call this "ghetto-rigged." This is the cleat we put in to replace the bronze fairlead that the NYFD yanked off when they were trying to pull us off the ground behind the Statue of Liberty, enhanced by chafe protection in the form of a rag covered with duct tape.

WE made the right decision to shelter during this storm.  Although Irene has just weakened to a tropical storm (yay!) — with sustained winds of 45 with some stronger gusts to 60 or so in this area (and it looks like our cove is being spared even that), it’s much better to be here on land than in a tossing boat. We’re snug and happy and sure the boat is safe.

Irene is hitting NYC right now but it looks from the radar that most of the storm has passed us, though the predictions say that winds will continue to rise through the afternoon.  We’re planning to drive back to the boat tomorrow and make sure everything’s kosher, then return to the Snow-Stebe homestead until they get back on Wednesday evening.

In other news, I left our phone at the marina, which means that if you can’t get through to us, DON’T WORRY!

THIS morning we consulted with Dave, a friend who is a professional captain and has been through a couple of hurricanes. He listened to our preparations and said “Sounds like you’ve done everything you can already; it’s going to be very uncomfortable on the boat, so I’d get off it and go stay with a friend.” So that’s what we’re doing.

We are staying the next couple of nights at Stebe and Stef’s in Manchester, CT. It’s well inland and should be fine. We don’t anticipate any problem with the boat, but we could expect to be bouncing around in a very ugly way for 48 hours. Having been through 80-knot gusts before, which put the gunwhale in the water, we don’t fancy being on the boat in sustained winds of that order.

We’ll keep you posted (because we has interwebs! W00t!).

WE’VE stripped the boat of all canvas and anything else that might blow away or create unnecessary windage – she hasn’t looked this bare since we launched her.

Hurricane Irene is anticipated to cross Long Island about 50 miles west of us. Winds there are predicted to top 80 knots, accompanied by 8 – 12 inches of rain. Estimating what we will experience is hard, but we can safely assume less.The cove is very protected and seven miles upriver.

Our lives are not at risk, and our possessions only somewhat so. Really all we have to fear is fear itself. But then, fear can be pretty scary.