It was a rainy, windy Monday night following a quiet, gray, soggy day in Bedwell Bay. Walt and I had spent the day reading and doing some domestic chores that included rinsing the water-maker’s filters and doing some reorganization of Braesail’s storage areas (two “staterooms” that have turned into walk-in closets). We had just finished sharing Evening Prayer after dinner and enjoying some chocolate ice cream when Walt’s anchor alarm went off–the anchor had been pulled out of the muddy bay bottom by the shifting winds and rising tides and the boat, all alone in the bay, fortunately, was adrift in water too deep for secure anchoring.
There followed a wet and windy scramble on deck in the darkness to try to bring the anchor up into its bow cradle so it could be moved, but the windlass (the electric mechanism in the bow that winds the very heavy anchor chain up and down) began to slip and spin out of control, and the central nut holding it in place whirled off into the black water, rendering the windlass useless. Using the anchor bridle (a metal lifting hook connected to about 75 feet of heavy rope), we managed to raise the anchor little by little using the big main winches as the boat continued to drift in diminishing wind and rain.
Once the anchor and most of its chain were finally back in place, we decided to motor to the guest dock in nearby Deep Cove to spend the rest of the night, a task made difficult by the rain, mist, and condensation on the inside and outside of Braesail’s windscreens that impaired visibility, but we made the trip safely, found the large dock empty, tied the boat securely, and, wet and tired, collapsed into bed at about 11 pm after a strenuous (and, for me, scary) adventure during which I did a great deal of praying (HELP!).
[Sorry, no pictures of the dark and stormy night!]