We'd been out to visit Rom and Basia on Sandsara, a Polish couple we'd met in Iluka and kept in touch with since. A lovely catch up after 6 months and impossible in the anchorage the previous night at Keswick Is, where we could only look across at one another and 'hang on' while anchored in a lively anchorage, in deep water with all our chain out. On return to Zofia we decided to enjoy the balmy glomming with an extra drink. A blissful counterpoint to the previous night of being on anchor watch and with little sleep.
The Bloke is very sensitive to our surroundings. He sees the fish, the turtles, the whales and dugongs and I'm just left blabbering "Where? Where?". He notices noises too, except when I'm talking to him. On this occasion he'd noticed that the schlip schlop sound of Marilyn seemed a bit further away. Turning to look, the Bloke noticed that Marilyn was a lot further away than she should be and receding with the current. Faaaaar out!ACTION STATIONS!!!!!
A cruiser's dinghy/tender is critical. It's your car: how you get ashore and how you can socialize as well useful for checking things around the boat... the hull, the anchor etc... Additionally they represent a 5-10,000AUD investment, little of which would be covered by insurance when factoring a $5,000 excess, reduction for depreciation, wear and tear plus the inconvenience of going to the nearest port (paying marina fees because you can't otherwise get ashore) and attempting to buy a replacement. Friends have just recently gone through the exercise after their dinghy was stolen from the beach.
Lots of thoughts surge to the front of mind. The Bloke - "It's not far, I can swim and fetch it". Me - "The Bloke could dive in and swim after it. I don't like getting wet, and am not much of a swimmer. Why is he delaying? The longer he delays, the further he'll need to swim! GO! Where's the good torch? I need to keep the dinghy illuminated so he can see it and so that I can see him".
Next; reason kicks in. Swimming? How stupid would that be? That would turn a disaster into a "Cluster f@@k"! Try getting into a dinghy from the water. Super, super hard. What else is in the water? Too spooky to contemplate. (By now is black dark and everyone on nearby boats have gone below). Tweetie Pie (the kayak), yes the kayak was the answer!
The Bloke went forward to unleash our last resort. I scrambled below to turn on the VHF radio, deck light and cockpit auxiliary strip lights, grab 2 torches and head torch. By the time the Bloke had delivered Tweetie Pie to the transom, my PFD (life jacket) was on (a PLB -personal locator beacon is permanently attached), the portable VHF was stuffed in my bra, waterproof torch stuffed in a pocket, head torch strapped on thus completing the appearance of a cyclops. I was ready to chase Marilyn down.
Safety First: Torches, VHF, Life jacket
The Bloke is generally critical of my obsession with torches and I've not yet managed to smuggle one of those megamillion lumen spotlights on board. I won't need to now because The Bloke just got first-hand experience why a comparatively small investment in such a thing would have enhanced his feeble attempts to focus the lens of his hand held torch on the receding silhouette of Marilyn. It's now on the top if HIS shopping list. Fortunately, I managed a glimpse of the target during a sweeping gesture and succeeded in paddling up along side Marilyn about 250m away.
I tied Tweetie Pie off on a handle with my best bowline first time and didn't muff it. Now would be the time for the glue to fail but Mr Murphy let that opportunity pass. Getting from a semi-recumbent position off the Kayak and into the dinghy was a interesting head and shoulders scramble. Thank goodness for 'winch wench' workouts and having the strength.
The Bloke's view of things was to see my red head-torch light bobbling about in the darkness. He must have been so relieved to have heard the outboard motor kick over on the first pull. Motoring back to Zofia and holding on to Tweetie Pie's painter as an extra precaution that the pressure didn't rip off the dinghy handle, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't found the dinghy painter. It's a floating rope but perhaps it would trail under the dinghy and foul the propeller. Oh, Lordy me! So I just went as slowly as possible - just in case. Once I was in the light streaming from Zofia's transom, there was the dinghy painter. What? How was it there?
In my absence, The Bloke had worked out what had happened. It wasn't a case of drunken sailors failing to secure the tender. No, the painter was still attached to Zofia it was just that the tender was no longer attached to the painter. The shackle had worked loose and fallen off. Lucky, lucky us that this had occurred while we were topside and in a position to notice.
The real moral of the story is that my Bloke is a champ for being so vigilant but tomorrow a new shackle will be fitted WITH a cable tie and or some seizing wire. To be sure, to be sure!
With the situation now under control, it was time for another drink; calm down and review the shopping list.
Marilyn, reattached for now, with 2 emergency lines.
No comments:
Post a Comment