At the beginning of our 500+ mile passage on Mystique from Sint Maarten to the Turks and Caicos, my good friend Clint told the tale when his wife Lori, aboard their 40' trawler on their maiden cruising experience together as a couple, went down below to nap only to discover her bunk mattress was soaking wet.
She returned and informed her husband that her bunk was wet.
"Yea, and what's the problem?", Clint responded.
"It's wet. What should I do?", Lori retorted.
"What's the problem?", Clint again queried.
"Our bunk is wet. What should I do?"
"Welcome to living aboard a boat." (Clint's helpful and epathic humor!)
Soon after Clint described Lori's initiation into boat wet bunking and sleeping, not one but two occurances made Mike and I laugh hysterically.
When Mystique departed St. Martin on a sunny, breezy November day, Clint had mistakenly left his forward overhead hatch open for the first time. Later that same day a sudden rain squall sent him a reminder. When I told him his hatch was open, he bolted down below to close it. But alas, not fast enough to keep it dry. The short shower had doused our deck as well and soaked his sheets, mattress and pillow below. His good nature took our ribbing about his bedding now being more comfortable. We reminded him there was no problem. It would be nice and damp for his rest. We also reminded him we were on a boat on the water and these kind of things happen. He grumbled as we wished him a pleasant sleep. It was later the next day when I realized he had moved during the night to the spare stateroom and fallen asleep on a dry mattress.
Ah, the next day he aired out his first wet bedding by bringing the first mattress up on deck, before he left Mystique and went ashore later that next day. But alas, again he forgot to close the overhead hatch to the other stateroom. The inevitable wave splashed through the opening and sent him a second reminder. Mike and I now could not resist reminding him that now with two soaked mattresses and bedding he was NOT going to have any problem sleeping from here on out. We still had a 4-5 day sail ahead of us.
It wasn't but a couple of days later during a sunny 20-knot breeze with Mystique speeding along on a broad reach course for the Turks at 7-knots that I was sleeping down below. To remind me that I too had left my above hatch wide open while I slept, a wave suddenly doused me, waking me up from a deep, dry sleep. My expletive deleted reaction made it clear to me that I too had to be reminded. I needed some comeuppance as my joking with Clint had come from my overconfidence and forgetfulness.
"We're sinking!" Lois cried.
The bell descended rapidly; its cable paying out as it did so.
"Superman! Do something!" Lois shrieked.
Superman looked out of the sphere's glass port.
"Not while we're still dropping, Miss Lane," he explained. "You wouldn't have a chance."
~ excerpt from Superman's Wife
At first, it seems so ironic that when on the sea, many people fear what comes from the water below. But when the rain drops or an odd wave comes from above, they are often taken by surprise. We often don't see it coming. Yes, the dark cloud on the horizon is often a clue, but the rogue wave is another story.
I have found life at sea often leans towards the ironic. The unexpected is frequently more likely. In many ways the opposite of what one expects is often inevitable.