Mackerel Cove, Microburst, and Missing Paddleboard

After a leisurely morning on the mooring and breakfast of fruit salad and zucchini muffins, we set our course for Mackerel Cove. Located just south of Jamestown, the shoreline of the long and relatively narrow cove is lined on either side with sloping gray rocks, which today reflected the midday sun in an intense and mirror-like way. Private homes dot both shorelines which connect at the head of the cove by a band of sandy public beach dotted with bright pops of color from beachgoer swimsuits. We dropped anchor for some reading and lunch of gazpacho and cheese and crackers which required focus as rollers made their way up into the cove making for a lumpy motion during lunch. Izzie found her way down below and settled on the sole, forward, where the motion would be least apparent. (During breakfast, Izzie had found an ideal spot on the starboard side on deck this steamy morning basking in the shade and the breeze. She is definitely acquiring a sea sensibility this summer).

With a chance of thunderstorms looming, clouds forming and a change in wind direction, we opted to return to our mooring where, after taking Izzie ashore, we inflated a paddleboard, swam off the boat and took our eager pup out for a paddle. Initially she wiggled and squirmed -- her enthusiasm testing this paddler's ability to balance, yet we held it together, circumnavigating Puffling several times, while she laid on the board, her tail streaming in the water at times.

Back aboard Puffling, while making dinner, rain began to fall and the wind intensified causing the boat to lurch significantly on its side. I grabbed Izzie who was fumbling on the companionway steps. We battened down the hatches and closed the galley porthole. The launch driver later told Dan marina staff had clocked 70 (knots?mph?) at the marina. He was also told that a carbon fiber sail on one of the several boats out racing ripped and various crew had gone overboard. One boat apparently after the knockdown came up with its cabin and cockpit covered in seaweed and bay vegetation. The weather excitement in its entirety lasted all of five minutes.

As we were finishing dinner of gingered shrimp salad, Dan craned up out of his seat to check the dinghy and paddleboard, noting he couldn't see the board. Bodhi followed the line from the cleat to...?? nothing. Gone. The microburst ripped right through or tore off the nylon handle to which I'd attached the line. We dropped the mooring and ventured on an evening harbor tour in search of the lonely board -- to no avail. It's possible that it could have sunk, but I plan to put out and all points bulletin for the precious toy first thing in the morning.

oxo Pufflings