Hearing about the oncoming hurricane, we debated over what we should do. Our friends took shelter in a local marina. These are our surfing – paddling – occasional drinking friends from our favored anchorage in Punta de Mita. We figured we’re young’ish, brave’ish, and broke’ish (marina fees = ugh) so we huddled in the bay near the marina, just in case’ish.
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I’m scared. I’m trying not to be. But I am. I know the storm shouldn’t hurt us. But still. The waves are rocking the boat making us move. More than I wish. They’re hitting the boat hard enough to sound like an alarming slam.
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