Solo Flight: Preparing our Sailboat for Hurricane Sandy

The night before Sandy hit, I stood on Osprey's deck looking up at the nearly full moon. Its pallid light leaked into the sky as if it were being strained through cheesecloth. Scudding clouds—outliers of the coming storm—now and then threw the deck into an uneasy darkness. We'd been frantically preparing for two days. Now we waited, always the hardest part.