I believe it was Roseanne Roseannadanna who said "it just goes to show ya, it's always something." Perhaps that's a good way of summing up what transpired shortly after our arrival on Ithaca.

We were anchored in 10 meters of water off the shoreline in Kioni, letting out approximately 40 meters of chain and securing two stern lines to the shore behind us. Interlude was sitting quietly and the weather was calm. With fenders hanging and neighboring boats occupying the spaces on either side of us, we felt sufficiently secure and decided to go explore Kioni. In hindsight, that was a mistake.

After being gone perhaps 45 minutes, I left the taverna where we had been sipping drinks and began walking back to the boat. Chris & Ty had the dingy and agreed to pick me up on the shore behind Interlude. I was met on the road by a woman I recognized from one of the neighboring boats who was hurrying to find me. "Big problem", she said excitedly in broken english. "Boat next you broke your anchor." We began running towards Interlude while I tried to comprehend how an anchor as large and heavy as ours could have been broken.

We arrived back at the shoreline and her husband was onboard Interlude, running the engine in slow forward to keep away from the rocky ledge behind us. The winds had gone from calm to perhaps 15-20 knots and the scene was far less idyllic than it had been just 45 minutes earlier. We hopped in her dingy and pulled ourselves along the stern line back to the boat. I could already see that our retractable swim ladder was horribly disfigured, and I had fears that more serious damage might lie below. Her husband, a Finlander who I had been chatting with earlier, explained that the boat which had been along our port side had left, fouling our anchor in the process. That made more sense ... our anchor wasn't "broke", but it had broken loose. The offending boat had arrived after we did and their anchor and chain were safely away from ours at the time.

With the increased wind and no anchor securing our bow, we had drifted over alongside the Finnish boat. Thankfully, both of us had fenders tied alongside so nothing further was being damaged. About then, Chris and Ty arrived in the dingy and I explained what had happened. I released both of the lines that were led astern and asked Tyler to take them ashore with the dingy while Chris and I retrieved the anchor and moved further out to reset it.

Reset attempt #1 failed and the wind pushed us back up against the good samaritans from Finland. Hello. Remember us? So sorry to be interrupting your afternoon. Thankfully, they were quite calm and understanding about our predicament. By now we were providing the entertainment for most of the boats nearby as well as a dozen Greeks who were watching from their homes on the hillside behind us.

The shoreline drops off sharply and I had lowered the anchor in 15+ meters of water, paying out approximately 60 meters of chain. In hindsight I was probably in reverse before the anchor had time to reach the bottom. Note to self: need to learn how to manually release the anchor so it reaches bottom more quickly.

Back up came the anchor and we repositioned ourselves for reset attempt #2. Everything was proceeding quite nicely until the anchor windlass suddenly stopped. With both the foot pedals at the bow and the anchor control switch at the helm not working, I immediately assumed that we had tripped the breaker. I dashed down below to the forward berth and pulled the mattress away so I could access the control box which is located beneath the berth. The breaker was fine. Grrrr.... Then I quickly removed the cover to the control box, checking for a loose connection someplace. Nothing was loose. Next check the master power switch which governs the windlass and bow thruster. That was fine. Then back up the companionway steps to try then anchor switches again. Still not working. It was time to move away from shore so we had time to assess the situation without causing damage to us or our neighbors. So with perhaps 20 meters of chain dangling from the bow, we moved out to the middle of the harbor, leaving Tyler in the dingy to save our place because it was getting crowded in Kioni and other boats were coming in looking for someplace to tie up for the night.

With no way to pull the anchor up, I decided it would be better to put the anchor down to hold us in the 30m depths where we were the center of the harbor. With 100m of chain, I figured we'd have enough scope to hold us temporarily in place. But how to manually deploy the anchor? I grabbed a winch handle to release the nut on top of the windlass, thinking that would allow the gypsy to spin freely. Nope. By now I was kicking myself for not learning how to do this earlier. The only thing I could think of was to remove the windlass cover and manually pull the chain free from the gypsy so the anchor could drop and secure us. So I grabbed the allen keys, removed the cover and did just that. Chain started to fly out wildly and loudly while the anchor dropped to the bottom. 30m, then 40, then 50. What's happening? It's only 30m deep here! Now 60m, 70m, 80m. By now I realized that that the momentum from the chain dropping below us was going to continue pulling out more chain until none was left. Shit. This could get ugly when the chain reaches the bitter end. I had visions of a fiberglass and chain explosion and stepped back helplessly to watch a few steps away from the impending carnage. Thunk!! The chain came to an abrupt stop and suddenly all was quiet. I peered inside the chain locker and saw only the short nylon rope which secures the chain to the eye which is fiberglassed into the locker. It had held. No damage whatsoever. Whew -- thank god for that.

After a short break to catch my breath and ensure that we were holding safely in the middle of the harbor, I continued trying to figure out why the windlass was dead. I rechecked all the electrical connections and they were fine. So I tried the switch again and ... presto!... this time it worked! But I hadn't done 't anything! No matter, we had windlass control again. I waved Tyler over to brief him on what had happened and convey instructions for our next attempt. Then it was time to pull 100m of chain up from the bottom so we could begin attempt #3. After lifting perhaps 40m, the windlass suddenly stopped again. I believe a few expletives were probably uttered about this time. Which Greek god had we offended today??

I now assumed that there must be some safety mechanism which was shutting down the windlass motor if it got too hot. Nice feature, except for the small fact that when the motor is working overtime it usually means we need it to. Without fail or complaint. This is perhaps the most important piece of safety gear that we have onboard and if it can't be relied on to do the heavy lifting we need then it could jeopardize our safety. Maneuvering a boat in tight quarters with chain and a heavy anchor dangling somewhere below us is not a good situation for anyone.

So after sitting on the foredeck for 10 minutes while our anchor windlass motor took a breather, we resumed the operation. All went smoothly for perhaps two minutes and then the windlass needed another breather. I needed a stiff gin and tonic (or two) but not until we were safely secured. With Chris at the helm keeping the boat in place, I remained at the bow, checking the windlass switches every few minutes. After another short while, we finally had 80m of chain up and I took the helm to begin attempt #3. We dropped anchor in 15m and payed out 60m this time while backing into the spot which Tyler had been defending for the past two hours. He delivered both stern lines via dingy we winched ourselves back in place after setting the anchor and making sure it was holding tight.

At last we were secured and safe again. It was finally time for that gin and tonic, along with considerable reflection on what had transpired and what we could learn from the experience. Thankfully, everyone had kept their cool (for the most part) and dealt with the situation calmly and efficiently. I dove off the transom to inspect the damage and was relieved to see that the rudder was fine except for two small dime sized gouges which can easily be repaired when the boat is hauled out this Fall.

The next morning I delivered a bottle of wine to the couple from Finland whose actions helped prevent considerably more damage to Interlude. It's nice to know that the community of sailors out here are willing to help each other in times of need. I didn't know at the time that I'd be able to pay it forward for someone else just 24 hours later, but that story will have to be told another day...