The day began with electronic notification of an approaching cold front, containing heavy winds thus building accompanying rough seas. The sky was lightly scattered with puffs of cumulus, allowing the sun to radiate light and heat upon us. A low and average swell rolled from the SW, just enough height to cause spray on the bow while the winds remained a moderate breeze from
W. By early afternoon the first signs of the front were beginning in the sky. The cumulus puffs began taking on more growth, remaining cumulus. In the distance you could see this growth forming stratocumulus which darkened the sky. As the clouds expanded, they rose, collecting moisture to return to earth. The winds began to increase, gradually backing and darkening as the frontal line approached us. The line crossed, bringing the temperature drop along with the Gale, streaking the ocean waves in terror. Overhead, we were covered in a gray blanket only to be showered and illuminated with bolts of lightning.
It is now hours later, laying in my rack to absorb the shutter as the bow pounds upon the sea. Everything shutters, steel groans and the engine trudges for a moment. The ocean brings with her a nasty bag of tricks, capable of destroying us all. For now, we remain battened down, cargo lashed and proceed south to reach Montevideo. I shall sleep well until morning.