I had invited
my Poros friends Catherine and Sarah for lunch on board Aquarella and we piled
into my little dinghy to get across the 200 meters of water between my boat and
the quayside. It was calm weather so I asked them if they would like a short
sail across the bay before lunch. Sarah had not been on a boat before and Catherine was not used to it either but they bravely said that was a great idea. I
thought I would show them the bay where the old shipwreck lies; the one I had
been painting recently. Stopping about 150 meters from the wreck, I anchored in
10 meters of water and let 40 meters of chain out. Then we settled down for
lunch.
Sarah wanted a swim and the water looked inviting until she saw the enormous (OK, about plate size) jellyfish. Catherine kept a look out while Sarah climbed down when the coast was clear. Suddenly she was surrounded by them and she shot out of the water like a flying fish. We reckoned they then regrouped under the dinghy waiting for any of us to dare climbing down into the water again. So we didn’t.
The wind was gradually increasing so I decided to return to the buoy in Poros. When the anchor was almost up I saw it had caught on something. It had fastened into a big and heavy ship’s ladder of rusty iron! I fetched my trusted slip-hook and line to hook onto the ladder and fasten it to a cleat on deck while I lowered the anchor to free it. However the following rung of the ladder prevented it from this. It was locked between the rungs.
I thought of taking my dinghy to get a line through the back of the anchor and try pulling it out the same way it came in but abandoned the idea as the sea was quite choppy by now and having no anchor down meant we were drifting fast towards shallow water. Catherine called out the depth to me every half meter: 9 meters, 8.5, 8, 7.5 and so on until it was 1.5 meters. Then I had to get back to the helm.
The only thing to do now was to sail slowly back to Poros with the ladder hanging from the bow. If I put on any speed it would go backwards and damage the hull. I reckoned if I could secure the boat to my buoy I could then find a way of getting the ladder off. If not there was a good chance of getting someone to help. We talked about the attention the sight of our catch might get and that people might think we didn’t even know what was hanging from the anchor. Sure enough the crew of the ferry shouted “ Hej! You’ve got something hanging from your anchor!”
It’s difficult to get hold of the buoy in any circumstances but even more so in any kind of wind. With Catherine and Sarah each brandishing a boat hook I thought we might succeed. Two hookers trying to pick up a buoy (excuse the pun!) However the wind was too strong and the ladder was in the way so even though Sarah had caught the buoy she couldn’t hold it long enough to secure it, it was wrenched from her hands and she had to let it go. I then asked the crew of a French boat nearby if they could help. The two men got down into their dinghy and came across. They had misunderstood in that I just wanted them to help us pick up the buoy but they started to try and unloosen the ladder. In the meantime we were drifting through the mooring field so I had to keep to the helm. They then understood it would be best to tie up to the buoy first. When we got near it the elderly gentleman in a life jacket who was still in their dinghy suddenly fell backwards into the sea! I thought he had had a heart attack and I was about to jump in to try and save him when I saw he was swimming with my mooring line. He attached it swiftly and swam back to Aquarella. The younger man was also in the water by now to try to attach a line to the bottom rung of the ladder but in spite of pulling and winching it didn’t budge. He borrowed snorkel and flippers to dive down while I slowly lowered the anchor and ladder. With the weight of the burden lifted off it was then possible to release the anchor from its locked position.
We were so grateful to this wonderful father and son duo for their patience and perseverance in helping us out of this predicament.
Merci beaucoup, messiers!
PS Sarah kissed the quay went I took them ashore in the dinghy.
 |
| Sarah, Catherine and myself eating lunch on board before everything went pear shaped. |
Sarah wanted a swim and the water looked inviting until she saw the enormous (OK, about plate size) jellyfish. Catherine kept a look out while Sarah climbed down when the coast was clear. Suddenly she was surrounded by them and she shot out of the water like a flying fish. We reckoned they then regrouped under the dinghy waiting for any of us to dare climbing down into the water again. So we didn’t.
The wind was gradually increasing so I decided to return to the buoy in Poros. When the anchor was almost up I saw it had caught on something. It had fastened into a big and heavy ship’s ladder of rusty iron! I fetched my trusted slip-hook and line to hook onto the ladder and fasten it to a cleat on deck while I lowered the anchor to free it. However the following rung of the ladder prevented it from this. It was locked between the rungs.
 |
| Aquarellas anchor firmly attached to an old ships ladder. |
I thought of taking my dinghy to get a line through the back of the anchor and try pulling it out the same way it came in but abandoned the idea as the sea was quite choppy by now and having no anchor down meant we were drifting fast towards shallow water. Catherine called out the depth to me every half meter: 9 meters, 8.5, 8, 7.5 and so on until it was 1.5 meters. Then I had to get back to the helm.
The only thing to do now was to sail slowly back to Poros with the ladder hanging from the bow. If I put on any speed it would go backwards and damage the hull. I reckoned if I could secure the boat to my buoy I could then find a way of getting the ladder off. If not there was a good chance of getting someone to help. We talked about the attention the sight of our catch might get and that people might think we didn’t even know what was hanging from the anchor. Sure enough the crew of the ferry shouted “ Hej! You’ve got something hanging from your anchor!”
It’s difficult to get hold of the buoy in any circumstances but even more so in any kind of wind. With Catherine and Sarah each brandishing a boat hook I thought we might succeed. Two hookers trying to pick up a buoy (excuse the pun!) However the wind was too strong and the ladder was in the way so even though Sarah had caught the buoy she couldn’t hold it long enough to secure it, it was wrenched from her hands and she had to let it go. I then asked the crew of a French boat nearby if they could help. The two men got down into their dinghy and came across. They had misunderstood in that I just wanted them to help us pick up the buoy but they started to try and unloosen the ladder. In the meantime we were drifting through the mooring field so I had to keep to the helm. They then understood it would be best to tie up to the buoy first. When we got near it the elderly gentleman in a life jacket who was still in their dinghy suddenly fell backwards into the sea! I thought he had had a heart attack and I was about to jump in to try and save him when I saw he was swimming with my mooring line. He attached it swiftly and swam back to Aquarella. The younger man was also in the water by now to try to attach a line to the bottom rung of the ladder but in spite of pulling and winching it didn’t budge. He borrowed snorkel and flippers to dive down while I slowly lowered the anchor and ladder. With the weight of the burden lifted off it was then possible to release the anchor from its locked position.
We were so grateful to this wonderful father and son duo for their patience and perseverance in helping us out of this predicament.
Merci beaucoup, messiers!
PS Sarah kissed the quay went I took them ashore in the dinghy.
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