Surviving the storm

Our first storm isn't a story about huge waves, heroism and hardship. It's about liquid. Liquids of the alcoholic type through our throats, water and diesel fuel for the boat, but above all water from the heavens above.
Mysteriously, the next morning, there appears to be an islet in the bay. Still wondering if we missed it when we arrived last night, Erno Langereis - the physiotherapist whose daughter greeted us upon arrival - comes to say "hi" and explains. Erno moved to Flekkefjord in 1992 from the Netherlands and established his Physiotherapist & Osteopathy practice at the waterfront. Tonight is the 'mid-summer night's celebration'. The islet is in fact a pontoon, filled with as much flammable material the locals could find, and will be set on fire around 10 PM. The custom is a reminder of the olden days, when an old fishing boat was set ablaze and left to sink in the fjord.
In today's Norway, they use the fishing boat for the band and everybody else follows in a procession of boats around the pyre before lighting it.
The mid-summer night's party falls into the water
But we're here to ride out a storm and a storm we get. Around noon it starts to rain and by eight in the evening it changes into torrential rain. The wind is strong even if Flekkefjord is well protected against wind from all directions. The Norwegian band demonstrates its members are Viking decedents, by boarding their fishing vessel and playing their tunes nevertheless, though the drumming of the rain is the most prominent instrument.
The rest of the boats follow in a disorderly parade of motor yachts, almost all with the hood up and almost all with groups of Norwegians drinking heavily (or so I assume). The latter being the best you can do under the circumstances, we succumb to the bottle of Beerenburg ...