Marion's trip to Norway was ten days, starting March 18. The days went slowly but I got a lot of stuff done: Income Tax, Replaced bayonet connectors in six of the 12 Volt fixtures, De-rusted and painted the dock cart, and Revamped the web page cruise reports section.

When she left Marion's last words were, "You take good care of the cats. Don't let them get out. Belle will run away, and Beauregard will drown."

"I will be careful," I said.

The ice maker repairman was supposed to come the day she left, and when I returned from the airport I checked to see if he had done the repair while we were gone. There was still some water in the ice hopper,  and he had not been there. I emptied the water overboard and closed the door. It was late, and I went to bed.

Next morning Beauregard was in my face at sunrise. He wanted food. It was strange that Belle was not there too. They usually are there as a team. I got out the can of food, two dishes and a spoon and clattered the spoon on the can. Belle did not come.

I went topside and found the door by the ice maker had blown open in the storm.

Belle was gone.  I was panic stricken.

I took the can of food and the spoon and headed ashore to search for her.

"Here kitty kitty... ", Klank, klank, klank, "Here Belle".

I headed out the floating dock looking for her on the open decks of boats that were close enough for her to get onto.  No Belle.

"Here kitty kitty... ", ... Klank, klank, klank,...  "Here Belle".

I headed up the dock to start looking on shore.

"MEERRROW," screamed Belle just as I got even with the bow of Remedy. "MEERRROW,.....  MEERRROW,"

I could hear her guttural, primal scream but I could not see her. "Here kitty kitty... " ... Klank, klank, klank.

She screamed again and I could see her trapped under the floating dock. She had fallen into the water and been able to climb out onto one of the long corrugated floating tubes that support the deck. She was under the deck, and she did not like it a bit.

I leaned over the edge and attempted to get a hold of her. In the process I pushed her off her perch, and she was back in the water under the dock. She clambered out again, but this time she was under a section where she could not be reached.

My neighbor came out to help. We surveyed the scene some more. She was safe for the time being. She was complaining loudly but less frequently. "Please stay with her," I asked him, "I'm going to get my phone and call 911."

The 911 operator gave me a phone number for Animal Rescue.

I think I probably woke the Animal Rescue lady... remember this is happening at sunrise.

She listened to my description, and recommended that I place a float alongside for the cat to climb onto.
Sorry, but she could not dispatch someone to effect a rescue. NO JAWS OF LIFE... I was on my own.

I went below and got a claw hammer and a Crow Bar. The aluminum deck is made up of 5 inch wide formed sections that run the width of the dock, roughly five feet long. There is a groove along each edge and four small spacers are used to lock the sections together. The ends of the sections slide into a track that runs the length of the floating dock section.

My neighbor and I attacked the section right over Belle. We would have to bend the formed section enough that the bow would allow the end to get free of the track. We lost three of the spacers in the process but managed to pry the section out.
 

As the section came up, Belle darted out and ran for Remedy. She went all the way to the end of the finger pier, surveyed the swim platform, and decided not to jump for it. I was trying to catch her when she leaped up to the bottom rung of the boarding ladder and scaled it in a burst of energy. There she stood at the closed wing door screaming her head off, "MEERRROW,.....  MEERRROW," which translates to, "Open the DAMN DOOR and let me in!" Immediately she ran for shelter in the hanging closet, where she always hides when the boat is underway. I caught up with her finally. Then it was back into water... this time in the kitchen sink to rinse the salt water off.

I managed to force the section back into its place, and straighten it enough that the deck was safe to walk on. I reported the damage to Rose, the owner of the marina. She was most understanding and said she would have her crew complete the repair. I swore her and my neighbors to secrecy because I did not want Marion to know what had happened... at least not until she was back from Norway.

Several months ago I had purchased some supplimentary door latches. They would have kept the door shut in the storm. Installation of these latches rose to the top of my To Do List the next day.

For the next nine days Marion's questions of, "How are the cats?" would be answered, "Oh, they are doing just fine."

I was quiet about the incident when I picked her up at the airport. I knew I would have to tell her sometime, but it would not be until after we were reacquainted, and life was back to normal.

Belle has not ventured onto the deck since the incident. The latches are in place and working as well.