Bluster—Bang—Quiet

Floating on a Canadian Park’s mooring 100 meters south of Colonel By Island, cool wisps of air pass through the screen of the port pilothouse door and mingle around my feet and legs. For most of the afternoon white caps from a warm blustery SW wind kept the boat’s motion lively. We both read for a time and then Charlotte drew while I wrote in my journal. These activities have developed into our preferred artistic outlets. To be truthful our long summer cruises have helped us improve. In any endeavor, you have to “do the work”.

We had a dinner of leftover pasta and a salad, common enough for us. The dishes were almost dry when Charlotte looked out the salon window and saw a hovering dark cloud. I went to the bow and observed a long horizontal squall line approaching us. It was time to prepare for a bang! Mooring lines were checked. I turned the computer’s navigation program on and added a few extra waypoints — you never know if you will be forced to move.

The windows, hatches, and doors were closed, and then we sat in the pilothouse and watched the island around us disappear in the rain. Carrie Rose swung from SW to NW with a bang. Our vision became limited to the rain and mist surrounding us. Black clouds obscured the sun. The temperature dropped. But then, after several more paroxysms, a glimpse of the sun and a sliver of blue sky appeared.

The mass of the storm passed farther to the south and in its wake trailed tall brilliant white chaotic clouds. It was as if the entire storm system was packaged before us: the squall line, a thick ribbon of rain, thunderheads, and then clear sky. The thunderstorm’s wind and rain had flattened the white caps in the bay quieting the water.

Carrie Rose slowly swung back to the SW. The mass of clouds took on the rust color of sunset. Nighttime settled in slowly as it only does up north. The island lay in silhouette. A campfire appeared on the point as I switched on the anchor light. All in a days work on the Rideau Waterway.