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One night last week, I was awakened in the middle of the night by the bucking bronco that No Tan Lines had become when a storm system moved through. It was raining torrents outside and, between the whistling wind, the halyards on all the boats clanging, and the thunder, I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried. Heaven knows I tried. But, it wasn’t working.
Eventually, the winds died down and the thunder meandered East, across the bay. However, there was still one noise that was keeping me away and, quite frankly, starting to drive me insane.
“Click. Click. Click.”
I suspected it was the one of our dozens of lines hitting something outside. I knew it was wet out there, and slippery. And, very dark because of the cloud cover. I kept thinking the boat would settle and that it would stop. It did not.
After two hours, I got up, grabbed a flashlight from the nav station, walked to the companionway, emerged into the cockpit, and played nautical detective. The first thing you do when there’s a mysterious noise on a boat is to stand still, cock your head, and try to figure out from which direction it’s originating.
I couldn’t hear it from the cockpit so I crawled out, and walked to the stern. Stood. Cocked my head. Nothing. I tried popping my ears. Listened again. Still…nothing. I then walked to the bow, and repeated my ridiculous ritual, praying nobody else on the dock was watching me. Nothing. No clicking. No halyard banging. No lines rattling. Nothing at all.
Well, I said to myself, perhaps it stopped just as I stepped outside. I went back inside, secured the companionway door, put the flashlight away, and went back to bed.
“Click. Click. Click.”
ARRRGGGHHHH!!!
Angry now, I got back out of bed, grabbed the flashlight AGAIN, climbed back into the cockpit AGAIN, cocked my head, went to the stern, the bow, etc., wash, rinse, repeat.
NOTHING!!!
I went back down, and back to bed.
“Click. Click. Click.”
“!*&!@$!!!!!!!” I whispered to myself. I decided to just get up three hours early, and turn on my laptop. Work would help me ignore the sound. But, first, a trip to the head.
While I was sitting there, I heard it again.
“Click. Click. Click. Click.”
I looked up. The small, round, metal towel holder was very gently bumping the wall.
“Click. Click. Click.”
HOW CAN SOMETHING THAT SMALL MAKE THAT MUCH NOISE?!?!
I grabbed a hand towel and looped it through the gizmo to stop it from hitting the wall. Then, of course, I promptly went back to bed.
NEXT: TURNING ON THE ENGINE GIVES RAMBO BLADDER CONTROL ISSUES
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Angela Hoy is a publisher, a blogger, and the author of 19 books. She lived on dirt her entire life before her family gave away almost everything they owned, and moved onto a 52-foot Irwin Center Cockpit Ketch. They all live, work, and play on board full-time.
Angela is the publisher of WritersWeekly.com, a free source of paying markets for freelance writers and photographers. If you want to write for magazines, websites, businesses, or others, check it out. It’s free! Her publishing services company, BookLocker.com, has published more than 9,000 books over the past 18 years. If you want to publish a book, she’d love to hear from you! Abuzz Press is BookLocker’s hybrid publishing company. And, PubPreppers.com offers services to authors who are having their books published elsewhere.