It stormed hard all week. As the week wore on we grew more and more apprehensive about our departure date of November 6th, and if we would even be able to leave.
Josh, Art, and Ace worked hard all week, even through the storm, trying to complete as much of the building as they could. They finished all of the building's exterior, and covered it with tin siding.
I felt more and more restless and agitated, as we were cooped up indoors, and I was feeling very anxious to leave the island, and return home. The winds howled at night up to 70 knots. The walls of our cabin shook and groaned in the wind. Sheets of ice and snow pelted the cabin. I found every night nearly impossible to sleep. The storm, and the cabin shuddering in it, was so loud. I was terrified that our weathered old cabin would fall down on top of us in the storm. I believed this wasn't too remote a possibility, considering all the other old army buildings around us had suffered this fate. So I lay there, my heart beating wildly, hoping each night that we'd make it to morning
It was cold, too. Our little propane heater in our cabin could barely keep us warm. The wind came drafting through every crack, of which there are many. All three of us would go to be fully clothed, wearing toques. Three of us, sleeping in one bed was not going too well either. Josh and Brodie weren't sleeping well either, and everyone tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. And Brodie is a bed hog.
Our nerves were terribly frayed after a few days of this, and not knowing if we would even leave on Friday. I felt I could not stand to be there another minute. But obviously, we couldn't fly in the storm. We'd just have to wait and see.
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