Carnage

What a horrible horrible day. There was no let up to the storm and there wasn’t much anyone could do; walking along the pontoon was hazardous enough. Errant, the lovely 1961 36’ sloop sank after being swamped - it dragged and collided with another boat which smashed its windows in. One of the “race start” huts on the breakwater - an old pre-war structure, collapsed into the harbour. And everywhere boats started dragging, and colliding. Through binoculars you could watch the damage increase, as moorings became entangled. One of the two fishing boats capsized, unbelievably - probably from breaking its lines and being hauled over. We gathered and stood and watched, transfixed, and then retired out the blast to drink cups of tea in the Bell Block. I’ve never seen anything like it in sailing here in 40 years, opined BP. It wasn’t just the wind somehow - it was the funnelling of the waves and the storm surge. Relentless. All the time I looked across at Rascallion as she pointed upwind, across the wind, even downwind. So far, untouched. And then Timania, one of the other boats at the harbour mouth I pictured the day before began to sink. 
And eventually the light faded. Just fingers crossed and settling in for the night and trying not to think about what was going on in the harbour, unseen.