What a perfect sailing weekend on the southern Chesapeake! Beautiful
weather, placid harbor on Sarah's Creek off the York, nice breezes
coming and going. Now, if only I could get the hang of anchoring...
Saturday night, the wife and I dropped hook just off the point
entering the northeast branch of Sarah's Creek, a picturesque spot
directly across from the York River Yacht Basin. We enjoyed a
beautiful sunset and grilled some steaks and had a leisurely evening,
turning in around 11 p.m. About midnight the breeze picked up out of
the southwest, and about an hour later my wife peeked outside and
announced we'd drifted a hundred yards or so. We fired up the engine
and moved ahead near our original anchorage and dropped the hook.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, when we drifted backward we had
snagged a crab pot. They were everywhere. It's almost as if the
waterfront homeowners deliberately and strategically place them in
front of their property to discourage itinerant mariners from
blocking their view. Anyway, it became beknownst when I put the
engine in reverse to set the anchor and the engine shuddered and
conked out. It was a sickening sound. I put it into neutral and it
immediately restarted, but it died as soon as I engaged reverse. I
knew then what had happened, but at 1 or 2 a.m., I wasn't about to go
undersea diving, so we settled back to bed. After sun-up I went under
and cut the line that had wrapped itself tightly around the blades
and shaft. (Note to self: Keep a swim mask or goggles on board for
such adventures in the future.)
Now, at this point, any seasoned sailor worth his salt would have
known to reset the anchor properly, now that use of reverse had been
restored. Not me. We enjoyed a beautiful day at anchor, did some
reading, took a cooling dip just off the stern, explored the creek
with our dinghy, had dinner at the marina and again settled in for
what we hoped would be a more restful night. The wife turned in
early, having been deprived of a good night's rest the previous
night. Just to be safe (I thought), I stood watch, waiting for the
night breezes to kick in just to be sure the anchor would hold. A
couple of scotches and a clear moonlit night made it a most enjoyable
watch. The breezes arrived again around midnight. It was not as stiff
as the night before, but enough to bring the anchor rode taut.
Satisfied and sleepy, I went below and immediately fell asleep.
A half hour later my wife jostled me awake. Again we had drifted and
now were perilously close to another anchored vessel. It took me a
few moments to orient myself and begin to ponder our next move. My
wife was a step ahead of me. "Start the engine," she ordered. "We're
moving to the marina!" And so we did. We took the first empty slip we
could find and tied up, and settled in for a secure and restful sleep.
Did I mention I'm something of a newbie when it comes to anchoring?
This was my first attempt with this boat. I had done it a few times
with my previous boat back in the 1980s and I thought I knew the
drill: Drop anchor (it's a Danforth), let the anchor and chain settle
in, back up until the anchor sets, put out more rode to keep the line
as flat as possible. When I got home, I revisited the manuals. What I
had failed to do was to stay in reverse long enough to actually bring
the boat to a stop. If properly set, the boat should spring forward
slightly when you shift from reverse to neutral. I had just put it
into reverse, backed for a couple of seconds, and considered the
anchor set. Lesson learned.
So our weekend was a bit more of an adventure than we were planning
for, but enjoyable nonetheless. Now we're looking forward to our next
anchorage and a shot at redeeming ourselves.
Jeff Sheler
s/v Windsome
C27TR #6594
Hampton, VA
