Anchors and rocks don't mix
15 September 2016 | Pebble Beach, California
Are we lucky ? We think so. We are lucky in that there are relatively only a small number of things that govern the life we have chosen and to us this is the definition of freedom.
Besides those boring considerations like visas and money there is the weather. The weather is never boring and regardless of how clever humans think we are, we cannot control it. Living as closely as what we do to with "being outside" we take in our stride what Mother Nature cares to dish us up - and we never take her for granted. And so, we have enough experience now to have learned why patience really is a virtue. So we waited for the wind.
After spending a few days in Monterey more than we had originally planned the weather finally changed from Southerly to a more favourable Norwesterly. With the wind kicking in on the Sunday afternoon, in company with our friend Mike on Easy, we sailed around to, and dropped anchor off Pebble Beach in order to give us a few hours head start the following day (that was also forecast to have favourable winds). The following morning we weighed anchor before dawn only to find that Pebbly Beach was not totally misnamed. Our anchor was stuck fast. No amount of maneuvering and cajoling could convince it to let go so we stopped the engine and made preparations to dive on the anchor. The water was 10 metres deep and using SCUBA meant that if the situation proved to be complicated to resolve then additional bottom time would not be an issue. Slipping into the inky waters with torch in hand I made my way along the chain to the bottom to find it had worked it's way under a sizable bommie (an underwater rock that has the potential to make one's life miserable) which was shaped in an inverted hook. It would almost be impossible to imagine a rock whose shape could have been designed better in which to entrap one's ground tackle. The anchor itself was wedged on a rock which would not normally have been difficult to retrieve, but with the anchor chain passing under this hooked rock, diving on was inevitable.
After a few minutes work I was back on board, Frances hauled up the anchor and we were on our way south in the pre-dawn light. A hot shower and a cup of tea later the day was looking pretty good.