I married Indiana Jones
23 June 2015 | Fakarava, French Polynesia
I married Indiana Jones
Multiple adventures are a regular occurrence on Centime.
Last night we we're sitting down to a spicy vegetarian curry, cooling down the heat of the dish with a rich Bordeaux, when the wind began to howl and torrents of rain stared to pour down on the deck above our heads. The boat rocked up and down, bow to stern like a crazed amusement ride, and the anchor made large crunching sounds against the deck - not good. Hoping not to ruin a good French Bordeaux, I secured the wine while Dennis ran up to the anchor.
In the howling wind and roiling seas the rope snubber, a ¾ inch line that keeps the high tension steel chain off of the boat, chafed clear through and fell into the brink. That's when Dennis sprung into action. He found two lines, fastened a new hook to them and we started to deploy this new snubber. Meanwhile the wind is blowing very hard, the drenching rain is seeping right through my foul weather gear, the bow is bucking up and down and the steel chain is chomping away.
Soon the sea in all of its' fury pulls the chain right out of the windless. We are close to possible disaster, or at least a very sleepless night of motoring in circles through the storm, if we lose the anchor and chain. It is held on with only a thin long nylon line. It breaks but the new snubber holds. I rush to the stern, and begin to drive her forward so that Dennis can pull the chain back onto the boat. The sky is as black as can be, but the dingy looks secure with my flashlight. Dennis's voice reverberates through the wind,, "Forward" just as the engine dies. I hyperventilate as I try to start her up again. After an hour or more of bone chilling excitement we are secure - but our dingy and motor, our lifeline to shore, are gone.
The next day Dennis again jumps into action. He swims 1/3 mile to shore dragging a dry bag, changes on the beach like James Bond, rents a bike and finds the dingy. On return he dives under the boat (after checking for sharks) and removes the dingy line that wrapped around the prop. He also recovers what is left of the old snubber line and its' large metal hook which had gotten fouled on coral below.
Never a dull moment.
At least the red Bordeaux has had plenty of time to breathe.