I can tell you that when I left Nags Head at 6 a.m. Saturday, it was
blowing at least 4.0, by my estimate, and it was predicted to last until
Sunday. I never like leaving, but that was a particularly miserable drive.
But I had already had a couple days sailing, including a logo-high
side-off 4.7 day at the Hatteras turnout. The south that was supposed to
happen before the front never really materialized on Friday. Not on the
ocean, anyway. I was in Salvo, slogging, and heard it was happening in