Wind, rain and soggy underwear
Stream
Darrell Jackson and Sarah Barnes
Mon 24 Feb 2014 00:58
We're a contrary lot us "yachties". One minute we're complaining about there not being enough wind and the next minute, there's too much wind. Well I know it's not like me to grumble, but the weather over the last few days since we arrived in St Martins has not been what we really wanted. After our early morning arrival and anchoring we had a good sleep and generally have been trying to catch up on lost sleep since then! We are anchored in a large shallow bay with room for hundreds of yachts but of course everyone wants to be near the centre of Marigot and the dinghy dock so all tend to anchor in the east end of the bay. This is also technically the more sheltered part of the bay as the winds are usually more or less from the east. I use the term "more or less" advisedly, as this week they have been very gusty and coming from the north east round to the south east in the matter of a few minutes. Not only that but they have been blowing between a force 4 and 6 ( remember force 4 is a "moderate breeze" and force 6 is a "strong breeze"?). This is making our anchorage quite uncomfortable as Stream swings around and snatches on the anchor snubber producing a constant feeling of movement and the need to watch your balance when moving around.
And there's more! I accept that we are in the tropics, and it is winter, but we didn't come here to get what you're having plenty of in the UK. We first came to St Martins 8 years ago over Feb half term (Sarah had to go home after one week and I stayed on for another week - I still get reminded about that!) and we had no rain. This week we are having torrential downpours that flood the streets for a short time, several times a day. This is causing ventilation problems on the boat, as to get a good draught of air moving through we normally have several of the deck hatches open when not sailing. The problem is they let in rain as well as air so we tend to be jumping up and down closing hatches every time it rains or even worse, realising that we have left them open when we are ashore and can do nothing about it until we return. The good thing (see, not all grumbles) is that it is still warm and bedding, cushions and clothes dry quickly.
To get ashore when anchored we use the dinghy. This is a 3.2m inflatable which crossed the Atlantic deflated and rolled up in its bag in a cockpit locker as we didn't anticipate needing it for a few weeks. It has an inflatable floor and keel which give it a "v" shaped hull which helps make it go well. Nearly all the other dinghies we see look superficially the same, but with one major difference, they have rigid fibreglass hulls which make them go even better, particularly in rough water. The fibreglass hull has one major disadvantage in that you cannot roll your dinghy up and stuff it in a locker, it has to be mounted on davits, towed or stored on the foredeck. With the winds we have been experiencing the waters in the bay have been "choppy" to say the least, resulting in lots of splashes that inevitably end up on one or another of us or both. The fibreglass keels seem to shed this water much better and consequently the occupants of these dinghies can be seen walking normally when they arrive ashore, unlike us who tend to waddle around with that feeling that most of us won't have experienced since early childhood due to wet undergarments.
Now one thing about being at anchor in a crowded anchorage is that there is always lots of coming and going and this provides many hours of entertainment, such that we have considered making some score cards to hold up when the manoeuvre has finished. It also has it's more serious moments and potentially disastrous situations. This is well demonstrated by the attempted anchoring of a French yacht who came past us looking as though he was going to anchor in a space in front of us. He was not happy with his first attempt fortunately, as he was going to end up very close to us, and moved further away and to our port (left) side. He was in front of another yacht and all would have been well had his anchor set well and it didn't drag. He did the correct thing by testing his anchor by reversing and pulling on it. When he did this he realised it was dragging and started pulling it up. This is where his troubles began. As he dragged his anchor and was retrieving it, it picked up the anchor of the yacht he had anchored in front of which had no one on board. By the time he had realised this he had drifted very close to this yacht, which was now also drifting down towards the next yacht in line, also with no one on board. There then ensued a frantic few minutes where his wife was on the helm and his son looked on in horror from the companionway as father eventually stripped off and jumped into the water with a large fender to stand on while he tried to untangle his anchor chain from the other anchor which was now visible, hooked over his chain. Meanwhile his wife was trying to manoeuvre their yacht in such a way that the two yachts didn't touch in the waves and wind that was moving them around. Details of what exactly then happened are unclear, as, far from watching a two boat problem develop into a potential three boat problem, I had jumped into our dinghy, ready for another wet pair of underpants, in an attempt to offer what help I could. I was joined by another dinghy with French on board so eventually returned to Stream as they could at least converse in native tongues and seemed to have sorted the immediate problem in that they released the offending anchor. This yacht by then had drifted past the other anchored yacht and we watched it for some time to ensure it was not still moving. It was very close to the yacht it had drifted past. The creator of this mayhem had by this time found a place on the other side of the bay well away from any other yachts to drop his anchor and, I imagine, have a stiff cognac.
When we saw the owner of what had been the last yacht in line return, we called him over to explain what had happened. Well, we would have, had he spoken any English! We're not sure what nationality he was but managed to get over the basic situation and I then went over (more wet underwear) to see what the situation with his anchor line was. After much effort and a comical waving of hands and two people speaking in pigeon Spanish and French we managed to untangle his anchor chain from the anchor of the other yacht which was once again set adrift. Our friend of unknown nationality then moved and re anchored to be sure his was set correctly.
We did watch this first boat to check it wasn't drifting and obviously the anchor had set after we threw it away!
The amusing thing was to then watch the owner of the first yacht that had had his anchor lifted return to find his yacht some 100 metres or so from where he had anchored it surrounded by other boats. He did look confused, but the thought of more wet underwear and trying to explain all that had happened to his yacht in a language I did not speak was too much and I just settled down to a sundowner in the rain.
The following night another French boat (what is it about these French?) anchored in front of us and was a little closer than I would have liked so I took particular notice of our relative positions on my "last thing at night" tour of the boat. He was definitely nearer and there did not appear to be anyone on board! Sarah was in bed. Best not to mention anything to her. As a precaution I put a couple of fenders either side of the bow and prepared for a night of short sleeps. The first time I checked, to my relief the yacht had gone and could be seen re-anchoring a hundred metres or so further away. What did bother me was that I was still so tired that I had slept through their weighing anchor and the talk and engine noise associated with it. More rest needed.