Wild night in Kotor

There are 3 images that remain in my head from that wild night in Kotor. 
The first was looking up the stairs to see the bow of another boat coming over our stern!!!  Through the torrential rain I could see Stew attempting to push the boat away whilst simultaneously trying not to be speared by its metal bowsprit OR being blown overboard by the insanely strong wind.
I remember thinking Holy shit, this is serious! 

Thursday 13th June, about 10pm, Bay of Kotor, Montenegro
Sitting on anchor in Kotor Bay, amongst about 20 other boats, 200m offshore, 13m depth with 45 metres of chain out.  The weather and sea is calm but we can see lightning over the mountains to the North & South (Lesson 1).  Hudson is sound asleep, Izzy & Stew are having bedtime cuddles and I’m in my jammies, about to brush my teeth.  Suddenly the boat is flung to port at force!  Windows that were slightly ajar are ripped open, mozzie screens sucked out and rain starts pelting through.  Cupboards and drawers fly open and stuff goes everywhere!  Dishes are hurled off the bench and books leap across the room as our boat is thrown around like we’re in a washing machine (Lesson 2). Hudson wakes up with a start and panicking, yells “Is someone going to come in to me?!”  We bundle Izzy into his room and tell them to stay there, together – it’s the safest spot as there’s nothing that can be thrown around and the bed is wall to wall so they can’t be launched off it!
Stew grabs his jacket and lurches up the stairs into the cockpit while I scramble around downstairs locking off cupboards that haven’t already flung open, frantically flicking all the switches to turn on the engine, lights, navigation instruments, windlass – anything that might help!  “Torch! I need a torch!”  Stew yells as he throws the lifejackets down to me.  I swear we must have about 10 torches on this damn boat but could I find one that was working??! (Lesson 3) About 4 torches in I finally find one that turns on and fling it up to him.
I seesaw into the kids and help them into their life jackets and this is the second image that will stick in my head – the two of them, cowering together, wide eyed on Hudson’s bed - two little nudies (but for underwear) in lifejackets.  As much as I want to stay with them, I quickly reassure them that all will be OK (at this point I actually wasn’t sure it would), tell them to stay there, together and scramble upstairs to help Stew.

Up on deck it’s carnage!  Between the darkness and hammering rain, it’s near impossible to see anything more than a few metres away.  The wind is howling and our High Winds alarm on the nav system is loudly bleeping away declaring dangerous wind speeds of 50+ knots (I didn’t even know we had a high winds alarm let alone how you go about turning the damn thing off!) 
Our bimini (cockpit cover) is heaving at its fixings, desperately trying to fly away and our deflated SUP board is also doing its best to leave us but somehow, amazingly it remains attached to the boat.  Our new (and very expensive) dinghy and outboard engine, weighing over 120kg combined, has been plucked from the water, spun around in the air like a kite then dumped, unceremoniously back into the water, UPSIDE DOWN, submerging the engine, battery box and petrol cannister and setting adrift anything not tied down.  Farewell fenders, flip flop and tacky souvenir socks intended as a gift for an unsuspecting family member.  (Lesson 4)

Having been about to go to bed, I’ve only got pajamas on under my jacket and the rain is brutal against my bare legs.  Stew said it was so heavy earlier that you could only have your eyes open for a few seconds at a time as it stung so much - so I’m grateful I’ve got my glasses on but with the rain splattering them they’re about as useful as an inflatable anchor. 
Stew has been at the helm, battling against the elements to keep the boat to the wind.  He later said it  took a while to figure out whether he had the engine on or not as it was impossible to hear it over the wind and there were no lights on the display to show him (fault or poor design? not sure which) 
As the wind thankfully starts to die down a little, I take over the helm from Stew, allowing him to get to the bow of the boat and release the snubber (absorbs shock and reduces strain on the anchor chain) so we can up anchor and get out of the bay, away from the danger of land and other boats.  Peering through the dark it’s a struggle to make out where water meets land but there’s a red flashing light marking the edge of the port and I have the depth reading on the chart plotter, so I use these as a guide.  Luckily, the rain is also starting to subside.
Stew calls out to me from the bow where he is pulling up the anchor, “Ash!  Get a load of this!”
I wipe the rain from my glasses and double take as I make out the third image that will stick with me from the night – as Stew brings the anchor up, with it comes a ginormous wooden log, like a telephone pole, caught in the anchor itself.  It’s an absolute whopper!  “What am I supposed to do with this?!” he yells, trying to release it from the anchor.  It’s not really the sort of thing you want knocking into your boat.  Before I can answer Stew manages to shove it off and it drops back into the sea, thankfully, never to be seen again.
Free from the anchor (and log!) we slowly make our way out of the bay in order to get some breathing room to assess the situation (and danage).  As the weather has calmed, I go down to the kids to let them know it’s over – it turns out that poor Izzy had been desperate for the loo but was too scared to move!  Bless her. 

The kids were so amazing throughout it all- they remained calm and followed instructions and we are so proud of them.  Despite being pretty scared at the time, when asked the next day how they felt and were they happy to carry on with the sailing lifestyle, it was like water off a ducks back and they were happy as Larry to continue as if nothing had ever happened.  They just take it all in their stride.
Needless to say, it was quite the character building episode for all of us. 

The whole episode felt like an age but actually only lasted for about 90 minutes.  Our wind speed thingamajig tops out at 50 knots but another boat in the bay sent me a photo of theirs clocking 60 knots! (69 mph/111kmh) – that’s classed as Force 11, just 1 down from a Hurricane!

Lesson 1: If there is any sign of thunder and lightning in Montenegro and you’re on a boat – seek cover!  They say winds like this in Montenegro are uncommon during Summer but we experienced them twice again afterwards, within 3 weeks!

Lesson 2: No matter how calm the weather and conditions, no matter what the forecast - before you go to bed at night, ALWAYS clear everything away and lock everything down. 

Lesson 3: Always have the torches charged!!

Lesson 4: We now leave 2 large, heavy water cannisters in the dinghy at night to weight the front down.