Buzzards Lightship in the Storm of February 25-26, 1956
The morning of February 25 dawned dismal and slow. It had, in fact, been dismal long before the grayness of morning fully developed, for fog had settled about us in spite of a brisk thirty knot wind from the dreaded southwesterly sector. The fog horns had chattered incessantly from 2:30 a.m. and southwesterly seas mauled us as they pounded against the bow. The ship twisted and bobbed, back forth, up and down, back and forth, up and down. Decks moaned, rigging whistled, halyards slapped, and the anchor acted oddly as the chain emitted a shrill metallic scraping behavior.