Position:
We’re in West Hartford, Connecticut helping out and visiting with Mark’s parents and family for the next week or so. The Khronicles have had several “slow news” weeks in a row, so we thought we’d entertain you with something “dinghy”.
Some friends we met heading south told us the following story last January when we were anchored off the Venetian Islands in Miami. They’ve been cruising for 30 or so years and swear it’s true. The four of us were on another couple’s boat for happy hour when he began to tell us a story. According to our somewhat questionable memories, it went something like this:
“Shortly after we first started cruising we anchored and went ashore with some friends. The local beach bar had a special on margaritas, and, if I remember correctly, we drank somewhere around 16 of them between the 4 of us. Eventually, full of margaritas, we decided to call it a night and headed back to our respective boats.”
“I had just purchased a new anchor a few weeks before to use as a stern anchor. The wind was picking up and the tide was due to change soon so I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to set said new stern anchor. I’d never set one before, but after all those margaritas, I was supremely confident in my ability to do so.”
“Oh, by the way - when we first got to the Bahamas, I made two adjustments to my outboard. It really annoyed me that I couldn’t take my hand off the throttle without the speed decreasing and the motor steering to starboard. So I tightened the throttle just enough to hold it where I set it, and tightened the turning adjustment so the motor would stay put. This really made long trips much easier and less tiring for me, as I could simply set direction and speed and let go of the tiller for long periods of time.”
“At any rate, I decide it’s time to go ahead and set the stern anchor. I proceed to load it and about 200 feet of line into the dinghy, attach the bitter end of the line to the stern of the boat, and head out at full throttle. Shortly after leaving the boat I manage to hit a wave, go airborne, and fall out of the dinghy.”
“Of course, the throttle is now set at full, the motor is set to steer nearly straight ahead, and the dinghy is beginning to disappear in the distance. There’s nothing for it but to swim back to the boat, lick my wounds, and regret the loss. I’m about 15’ away from the boat when the dinghy reaches the end of the anchor line. It pulls taught, the anchor digs into the dinghy’s transom, the dinghy flips into the air, does a 180, lands right side up, and heads back to the boat. Right toward me. Shit. I’m still in the water and it’s headed directly for me.”
“I somehow manage to cover those last 15 feet really quickly and levitate onto the stern of the boat a split second before the dinghy blasts through right where I had been. I stand there and watch it plane the length of the boat, past the bow, and begin disappearing in the distance again. Feeling a bit detached and foggy, I stand there and wonder what’s going to happen next.”
“Well, I’ll tell you. The dinghy again reaches the end of the anchor line, but this time, instead of flipping around and heading back to the boat, it begins going in a big circle around the boat at the limit of the line. I watch it go around the stern and head toward the bow, then around the bow, then back to the stern. I’m turning in circles to watch, and, after about the third rotation, realize that I’ve been lashed to the stern by three passes of the line around the boat. As this fact slowly begins to sink in, another lashing is added and I’m tied tightly, unable to get loose. I still find it really interesting, however, and continue to stand there and watch to see how it plays out.”
“My wife shouts ‘Cut the line! Cut the line!’ to which I answer ‘You’re crazy! Then we’ll lose the dinghy, the outboard, AND the new anchor!’ She gives me a piece or two of her mind, then wanders off toward the pointy end of the boat waving her hands, shaking her head, and muttering.”
“So I continue to stand, soaking wet, lashed to the stern of the boat, and I’m beginning to have difficulty breathing as the lashings pull taught. I’m still watching as the dinghy continues circling the boat all the while winding more and more wraps of line around me. It’s fascinating how it’s all working out. It eventually winds itself all the way up and ends up next to the boat facing forward.”
“ ‘This is great!’ I think. ‘It couldn’t be any better! It ended up right back here at the boat – I didn’t lose it and I don’t have to chase it at all! All I have to do now is get loose so I can get back to getting the stern anchor set.’ ”
“So there I am, hogtied to the stern of the boat, unable to move and barely able to breathe. But I’m feeling great! This will be an easy recovery! On the down side, however, the dinghy is now tied to the side of the boat. Pushing it. Like a tug. Oops. We slowly pass over the primary anchor, break it loose from the bottom, and, dragging it behind us, head for shore.”
(Editor’s note: By this time, Julie, Mark, and our hosts, are all doubled over laughing so hard tears are rolling out of our eyes.)
“Our friends, meanwhile, have arrived at their boat about 100 yards away and are watching the proceedings with many extremely vocal suggestions, verbal ‘support’, and way too much laughter. I try to call for help: ‘hhhhh…….’ Is all that comes out. Obviously, they don’t understand what I’m saying. ‘hhhh..s..plltlttl…..’ I try to yell more loudly. Still no response. They helpfully mention that it looks like we’re heading for shore.”
“In the meantime, my wife, bless her soul, returns from the bow and manages to make it clear to them that we’re not doing this for their entertainment. The light slowly dawns through and they decide the best thing to do is head over and see if they can help us. They pour themselves back into their dinghy and, after several abortive attempts, manage to board successfully and join us on our boat.”
“At about the time they get aboard, our dinghy’s outboard runs out of gas. This is apparently a bit of a letdown for them. They discuss whether they actually should have come over to help, since the ‘tug’ is no longer pushing. They seem to be disappointed they can’t be ‘the heros’, but, like true friends, they don’t let this get them down. Between them and my wife, they manage to get enough additional rode out on the primary anchor to stop our dragging before we run aground.”
“They then begin discussing whether they should turn me loose or leave me as I am, lashed to the stern, quiet and unable to cause any more trouble. I try to participate in the conversation, saying ‘I’m glad that’s over with. Now get me loose so I can go set the stern anchor”, but all that comes out is ‘gg…hhh……..splflxfx…..’. They ignore me. My wife offers them a drink and they go below. I can tell it’s going to be a long night.”
(Editor’s note: At this point all four listeners have fallen out of their chairs and are rolling on the floor convulsing in laughter, unable to speak. Our friend allows a brief dramatic pause in the story, then continues …)
“Hey! Anybody up for a margarita?”
Mark & Julie
s/v Rachel
