05 May 2012 | 18 18'N:65 18'W, Culebra
We pulled into a protected anchorage on Culebra, nestling in between the sprinkling of sailing vessels in various states of disrepair. Having found a gap in the fleet, we lowered the anchor into the dark waters, easing the boat lightly backward to set the hook. With a final firm tug, the anchor set. The next moring, after a sound sleep, we prepared to depart for the island of Vieques. My friend Jeff manned the bow, while I controlled the anchor windless from the helm. As we pulled the anchor from the depths, I could feel an odd sensation. The bow sunk slightly as the tone of the windless deepened, straining under the pressure of something below. Jeff peered over the bow to see what we had hooked. Draped over the anchor was an old chain, descending back into the darkness on both sides of the flukes. Thinking quickly, Jeff grabbed the pike pole and eased the chain off the anchor. Now, finding himself with the full weight of the chain secured to the hook at the end of the pole, there was little he could do. He was hooked. The tug of war ended quickly with a short grunt and sceam. He let go.The chain, now free from the strange forces that woke it from its sleep, was free to descend back to the bed, pulling a new prize down to the bottom with it. Together, the two will sleep peacefully until the next unsuspecting boater arrives. As for One World, we sail on, excited about the surprises that lie ahead, and below!