Landfall

After a nine day North Atlantic offshore voyage characterized by gale force winds, steep seas and lack of sleep my parents and their crew have apparently arrived in St. Maarten. We recieved a voice message today via satellite phone that sounded positively giddy with the anticipation of...pick any of the following: 1) bathing 2) eating on a surface that doesn't heel 3) sipping a stiff drink or three 4) going to bed without having to strap yourself into a wet, sweaty bunk 5) waking up without having to wish you were anywhere but strapped into a wet, sweaty bunk & having to leave said bunk for a six hour spell on the wheel in pitch blackness under 45 knot breezes 6) not being assaulted down below by the odors of yours and others bodily functions and secretions 7) did I mention bathing 8) no longer staring blearily at a day old weather fax by the dim nav light at 0300 9) eating a meal that you don't have to revisit over the side (while praying that your lifeline holds) 10) not having to wonder if that black shape on the horizon is a half submerged container that, upon collision, will cause you to sink like a stone.