So, I take up the story from last night. You will remember that I had to watch the Scaffie being slowly dragged to her doom as her anchors dragged in high seas. I, the pusillanimous, dared not jump into the raging surf to rescue her.
I woke this morning fearing the worst. It is 6:30 when I rush onto the beach with my heart thumping. She is way down by the bridge but still afloat and not grinding horribly on coral.
The yard and sail have burst loose, she is full of water and a very good sea anchor, which I should have rigged, and a hammock have been washed away. Otherwise she seems OK.
The place where she is, is very accidented, The bottom is ridges of coral and as I drag her back to the original mooring, I trip and stumble in the high waves and surf. My legs and hands are cut on the coral as I flounder.
Frankly folks, I cannot think of anything I enjoy more. At 7:00 am I am dragging my Scaffie through the high waves to moor her securely. I stumble and spend a lot of time underwater, the wind is strong, the waves are high and I am totally alive.
I set 3 anchors and drive them into the coral sand with a lump hammer. This is mask and snorkel stuff.
So, this all goes to reinforce my belief that you have the best fun when things go wrong.