George Town - Steering Clear of The Office

It was unbearably humid all day. Clouds had been building throughout the afternoon and we sat around in a semi-stupor just waiting for a little breeze to cool us off. As soon as it got dark, our prayers were answered. In spades. We could see several thunderstorm systems on the horizon moving towards us. The lightning had us worried (before we bought it our boat had been struck by lightning twice, knocking out all the electronics). So Kevin put out the Strike Shield which is a cable that attaches to the mast and hangs in the water, the idea being that if lightning struck the mast it would follow the cable to ground and miss the electrical circuitry. We don't know how sound that theory is, but we put the cable out whenever we see lightning just in case it works.

We closed the hatches and ports and tried to stow anything on deck as best we could for the squall. We sat outside and watched the storms approach. You know the saying, "the calm before the storm"? Well, it has some basis in reality since the wind went from 3 knots to 20 in about 10 minutes. As the winds kept building we would hear other boaters on the radio clocking 50 knots of wind. Once the rain came, we went inside but kept popping our heads out to see what was going on. It is a very good thing we did this. A motor vessel (looked like a sportfisher but it was dark so we couldn't tell for sure) to the north of us had started dragging and was heading straight for us. Kevin's quick thinking saved the day. He started the engines immediately and asked me to bring out the airhorn. The sportfisher was so close we could see inside the boat and they were all sitting around the table, oblivious to the fact that they were dragging! Kevin sounded the airhorn and one of the guys came to the door so we shouted, "You're dragging! You're dragging!" At this point the boat passed within 15 feet of us and Kevin was gunning the engines in reverse with the wheel turned to port to swing us out of the way so they didn't hit us. The boat kept dragging by until it was a slightly safer distance away, although it was still in our swing circle (the 360 degree circle around our anchor). The guy finally got the message that he had dragged and started his engines.

The winds died down and eventually the rain stopped as well. We stayed out in the cockpit warily eyeing the other boat. We were worried that they would stay there all night, which was definitely not a safe proposition; they were too close, plus we'd already seen their lack of expertise in anchoring. We wanted to radio them, and I shined the spotlight on their transom to get their name, revealing one of my biggest pet peeves about powerboats with names on their back transoms: the door. Lots of sportfishers have their names written across the back of the boat (transom) but many of them have a small door that swings inward to allow them to get to the swim platform. When the door is open, other boats can't read the name. In this case, despite looking with the spotlight and the binoculars the only part of the name I could make out was "The". Helpful.

So again we shouted into the wind that we were trying to hail them on VHF 68. It took several tries until they understood and got on their radio. Turns out the boat name was "The Office". Kevin asked them if all was okay, and the guy said that yeah they seem to be stopped now and he had about 50-60 feet of chain out. Kevin tactfully replied, "Well you're in about 20 feet of water where you are and with that amount of chain you have less than 3:1 scope out. We've got 120 feet out and you are right in our swing circle. You might reconsider." To which the guy replied, "Thanks for the suggestion." Then silence. What did that mean? Was he going to stay there all night? We wanted to know his intentions, so Kevin got back on the radio and said, "Well, you can't let out another 60 feet of rode from where you are and still maintain a safe distance. We aren't sure what the weather is going to do, there might be another squall coming so we are requesting that you move." Luckily the guy came back on and said that they were planning to move as soon as they assessed the situation. We sat outside for another hour watching them maneuver back and forth (their anchor must have snagged on something. We were just thankful it hadn't snagged on OUR anchor.) until finally they got the anchor up and moved off a good distance away. Only then were we able to get ready for bed. We both slept like babies knowing that if we (and the other boats around us besides "The Office") didn't drag in 50 knots of wind, we'd probably be okay for the rest of the night.