AWAY WITH ANCHORS THAT DON'T
HOLD A SEAGOING VESSEL FAST
Fred Dyson – Dyson's Starboard View – Messing About in Boats
ANCHOR DRILLS
No, this isn't about hanging pictures on sheet rock. It has to do with a desperate mariner hoping his anchor holds as a wind and tide try to carry him away to some disaster or when he is trying to get his anchor up so that he can dodge some sea-going monster that is threatening to ride him under.
Anchor drills are supervised by Murphy and always happen when at least four of the following circumstances converge: bad winds, the skipper and/or crew are drunk, poor visibility, you are terminally tired, it is raining seals and sea lions, you have just sat down to a long-postponed feast or amorous encounter, the anchor winch has just broken, you have just drained the oil out of the main engine, or you have finally found a spot in a crowded anchorage where your anchor is holding; and you have enough room to swing without hitting anything big or sharp.
SWINGING ON THE HOOK
The seamanship manuals say that you should let out seven times as much anchor line as the depth of the water. The manuals also say that you should have a heavy chain attached between your anchor and your anchor line. The chain and extra line (scope) are supposed to allow your vessel to pull hard on the anchor without levering the anchor flukes out of the mud. The down side of having lots of anchor line out is that your boat will circumscribe a large arc when the wind or tide changes. This can bring you into close contact with many interesting things like crabby neighbors or sharp and intrusive rocks. Most sailors want to avoid that kind of intimacy.
In a crowded anchorage, you hope that all of the vessels will swing in unison and neither bang into each other or tangle their anchor lines. The etiquette of the situation dictates that the first vessels into an anchorage have some territorial rights and that if a latecomer anchors in such a way that he gets afoul of the first vessel, the latecomer is supposed to pull his hook and go reset somewhere else. Many newcomers to boating do not understand the nuances of marine manners and may react by yelling or panicking, or in the grand old Alaska tradition, firing guns. This is not approved behavior.
I have known boating people who have huddled out of sight in the cabin of their boat, hoping that the other boat crew will see the impending danger of collision or tangled lines and pull their anchor first. I know skippers who solve this impending social problem by wandering out onto the foredeck with a knife and a sharpening stone. They calmly sharpen their knife, pull on their pipe, and watch the offending anchor line swing closer. Most of the time the offender sees the picture clearly and pulls his anchor while the anchor line is still in one piece.
DRAGGING ANCHORS
There is an old revival hymn that says in part, "Be very sure your anchor holds and grips the solid rock. On Christ the solid rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand." A mariner often shares the sentiment of the song and sometimes will be praying desperately that his anchor will hold. The seafarer, unlike the writer of the hymn, does not often find solid rock to be good holding ground for an anchor.
A few years ago, I anchored down tide from a fish tender barge. We were hoping to get a hot meal and a little sleep before the next fishing opening. My eldest rug rat looked up from the galley table and said, "Daddy, we are catching up to that barge." The fish tender was dragging his anchor and was nearly on top of us.
My fishing partner started the engine as I ran out on deck. The barge was starting to ride up our anchor line and push us under. I undogged the anchor winch and my partner backed our boat down frantically. I stood by with my deck knife. We got some slack in the line and then headed out to port. We got clear and our anchor line did not foul on the prop or rudder of the barge. The barge crew powered up and pulled their anchor and untangled our anchor line from theirs. We both reset our hooks and went back to a cold dinner.
An anchor that holds fast is imperative for the mariner. I suspect we all aught to be equally concerned that our lives are anchored to something that holds fast when the tide runs hard or the wind kicks up.
