promptly pulled it all through the fairlead.
Paul had not tied it to the boat properly
and only swift action by Kati with another
line prevented us making a complete pig’s
ear of it. We were then informed, “Oh
sure! Everybody hits that bank!” which
makes you wonder why they don’t nail a
warning on the entrance post. I will write
to the mayor...
In the morning we
fuelled up, then changed
to one of the marina
moorings, the difference
being £85 on a dock berth
and £15 for a buoy. My
crew hooked the buoy
correctly this time – we
were all learning fast.
During the day, replicas of Columbus’s
sailing caravels Niña and Pinta arrived to
great fanfare.
These were large ships, drawing much
more than my 2m (7ft), so they must have
had a pilot to warn of the entrance shoal.
The following day we motored another
27NM south into stronger head winds, to
the town of Stuart, where I prepared to
anchor clear of the channel.
I snubbed in our big 27.5kg CQR bower
with about 18.2m (60ft) of 10mm chain,
and the next operation was to shackle the
smaller 16kg to the same chain to act as a
kellett (weight), which I always do for any
night anchorage.
As I was about to shackle the bridle to
the chain a passing
motorboat created a big
wake. The anchor tipped
in its roller and vanished
into the black water, bridle
and all.
As Kati heard the ‘plop’
and the accompanying
bad language, she had the foresight to
immediately take a bearing. I then quickly
dropped our smaller Danforth – this time
attached to a rope – on the same bearing,
hopefully to mark where the CQR had
disappeared.
After a few telephone calls we managed
to locate a diver, who promised to come to
our aid at 7am the next morning. Toprepare for ferrying him back and forth
I had another go at the intransigent
outboard. I cleaned sediment out of the
carburettor and jets and after a lot of
yanking on the pull cord, it eventually
spluttered into life.
The next morning we spotted our diver
on the shore and I climbed into the dinghy
to bring him over. It started to rain with a
vengeance, and the outboard still refused
to work.
I rowed with difficulty to the shore and
upon meeting the diver, who was half my
age, hoped he might row us back. Alas,
he didn’t. I tied the dinghy to the bobstay
and over he went with a great splash, not
that I could have been any wetter.
We were only in 3.7m (12ft) of water and
he quickly found the Danforth lying right
on top of the CQR! Had I not marked the
spot I think the anchor would have
remained lost. The diver asked for £40 but
I gave him £50. I felt proud of this little bit
of seamanship, especially Kati’s foresight,
even if it did start with my error. I gave that
anchor a jolly good talking to, I can tell you!Britannia looking
majestic at anchor in
Hobe Sound, Florida“Oh sure!
Everybody hits
that bank!”
LEARNING FROM EXPERIENCE