On Saturday Oct 18th we sailed the Adamo to Grenada on an overnight sail. We sailed at night to diminish the chances of thunderstorms that build during the afternoon hours. The conditions at times were near perfect with a half moon out, 15 to 20 knots of following wind and calm seas. No autopilot though, so someone had to man the helm at all times. At around 2:00am a squall line that had been looming on the horizon behind us finally caught up with us. The clouds doused the moonlight; it was pitch black out. The wind on the leading edge of the squall kicked up to 30 to 40 knots from varying directions and rain was pouring on us like out of a bucket. We reefed the headsail. The main was already reefed in anticipation of hitting a storm. The boat wanted to turn upwind with the gusts. In the total darkness it is difficult to tell the boat is turning until the sails luff and flog violently in the wind. You're eyes are fixed on the compass for orientation, though with the wind direction changing as the squall passes over you it's not a perfect solution. Fortunately there was no lightning associated with this storm. As the squall passed us by, a dead calm came over the ocean. Just as quickly as the wind had kicked up, it died down to zero. Then slowly it began to build and 15 minutes later things were back to normal. Storms like that are not scary. We know what the Adamo can handle. But it does put you on a heightened sense of alertness and it's a lot of work.We arrived in Grenada in the morning and fixed a hearty breakfast. Having cleared customs, we spent the next several days moving from bay to bay, taking in the natural beauty of the island. Sue's mom, in the meantime, had FedExed the autopilot and a care package to us. Thanks Mom! We brought the Adamo around to St. George's in the lagoon. On the shore you could see the FedEx office with it's own dinghy dock. What service.
Clearing customs for our items was fairly easy and two days later the autopilot was installed and working again. We finally have everything put back together after our lightning strike in Venezuela. (Knock on wood or "touch wood" for you Brits)