Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
being denied access! Gavin loosened the new galvanized fisherman anchor and set up the
cross- arm, fitting in the retainer pin at the end of the little chain. I beckoned him to throw
it overboard, and within a short minute or two we were securely anchored, and her bow
swung around to face the outgoing tide. Looking below through the clear, blue water, we
saw large, round, black boulders piled up under our keel, as though a giant's marble game
had been in progress. I felt very grateful for them, as they gave us tremendous holding
ground with the fisherman anchor.
Penny got on the radio and called up Kevin, “Hey dad, what's with the tide at the entrance?”
she quizzed him.
“Yeah, we noticed it slightly coming in, just hang out for an hour or so; it will slacken off.
You are gonna love it in here; it's calm and peaceful with real friendly locals. We are the
only boat here. We'll keep the beer cold.”
By 5 p.m. the water appeared to have calmed down, and there were no signs of moving
water from the entrance just a hundred yards away. Gavin and I had unlashed our dinghy,
and it now lay just behind us with oars shipped and ready. I started the motor and nosed
up to the warp where Gavin and Penny were hauling in the anchor. They appeared to be
struggling, and Déjà vu swung clumsily about as though she had fetched up on a tightly
snubbed anchor line.
“We're stuck in these damn rocks,” stated Gavin impatiently.
I went forward and helped them tug on the line. They had hauled it up and were at the
length of galvanized chain. After a fierce struggle with this chain, I realized we would have
to try and go down to attach a line to a fluke in order to break it out. I decided to go down
myself and quickly donned flippers, mask, and snorkel. With a spare jib sheet in one hand,
I took a lungful of air and swam down as far as I could. The anchor was out of my range,
but I did manage to see that the hook was trapped in between two large black boulders.
I surfaced and told the others the news. I clambered aboard and started the engine again. It
was going to get dark soon, and in the tropics the sunlight goes suddenly. I wanted to be in
the little bay and safely anchored before dark. I asked Gavin to pay out a fair bit of slack in
the anchor warp. He belayed it after easing off thirty odd feet.
Gunning the motor I got up the old girl's momentum and charged in the direction that Gavin
and Penny were pointing. I felt a sudden slowing down, and Déjà vu slew suddenly around,
still securely anchored. Penny was almost thrown overboard by our sudden stop. I grinned
at her profanity, “Jeeesus Chrissssst!”
“Free out some more line,” I yelled, swinging the helm hard over. This time we rushed at
it with engine belching black fumes and revving angrily at the abuse. We hit the taut chain
