Ok so it should come as no surprise to those that have been reading this blog that I am a bit…intense. I’m not sure if that’s the exact word…there are others…exacting, rule-obsessed, high-strung, fearful of new things…a beautiful tapestry of crazy hahah. Ok it’s not all that bad, I manage my stress and anxiety generally well (sleep and yoga are great) and can usually talk myself out of wild worries…and continuously throwing myself into ridiculous situations also seems to keep me from just hiding in a comfortable, safe, spot until I get dusty so that’s good too I guess. Also, aren’t we all a bit crazy?? There are some things I am really really comfortable with that I know many are not. I love meeting new people. I love speaking in front of 300 people and getting them to do stuff (often stuff they don’t really want to do). I love getting up close and personal and sharing feelings (shocking I know). Buuuuuuut there is a lot of stuff that scares me. 

Travelling via a sailboat is a lovely opportunity to throw new anxieties and fears into my already-pretty-full pot…we’ve already written about the noise factor while sailing and how that ratchets up the nerves. You might think that being on passage, with miles and miles of water beneath you and hundreds of miles from land, would be the most stressful part of all of this. Not for me. I think the thing I freak out about the most is being at anchor (well besides docking that is, but we haven’t been in a marina for months…). 

What? (You ask reasonably) Isn’t chillin’ at anchor supposed to be the best part? (You ask reasonably)Yes. Yes it is. (I respond) And yet, it’s not always, or even very often.

Liam and I have gotten really solid together on the bow getting the hook down, quickly, and getting the snubber on, quickly. We are also pretty good at picking a spot that will allow us to swing and be at a comfortable distance from our neighbours. And when the conditions are just right being at anchor is fantastic. Really soul-expanding-I-love-my-life fantastic.

HOWEVER.

It is exponentially more difficult to anchor, and / or relax at anchor when the wind is BLOWING THE SH*T OUT OF YOU and you can’t really talk to each other (Bow to Helm) so you rely on hand signals and dirty looks and then the bow gets caught in a gust and you need to circle around and do it over again because now you are not in the right spot and all the while it sounds like a freight train is bearing down on you and destruction is imminent. 

It is surprisingly more difficult to relax at anchor when there is ZERO wind which allows for a SWELL to push you around like a passive aggressive bully and usually that means closer to shore than you hoped for and now you have to keep an eye on the depth as well as deal with all your stuff swinging and flinging around the boat because you are living life on a pendulum until enough of a steady breeze picks up to keep you pointed in the right direction (i.e. bow to shore, not stern to shore). 

It is unbelievably more difficult to relax at anchor when there are loads of people around and you have to predict every possible wind direction alignment with 5 other boats in your back and front and side yards and guess at where they dropped their anchor and guess at how much chain they have out and then sit patiently (something I am NOT good at) for 15 or 20 minutes to see if the swing is what you thought it would be and then pick up and try it again and again so you won’t be the d*cks at the anchorage that drop their boat on top of other people who are probably much more likely to be able to relax at anchor that I am. 

And of course it’s really freaking good when all of these things happen in the same day. Then of course add the night time are-we-going-to-drag stress onto things and you’ve got PERFECT conditions for a restful sleep. Ya right. Anchor alarm? (You ask reasonably) Absolutely (I respond)…HOWEVER, boats swing at anchor and depending on your snubber (a hook and two lines you attach to your chain and your bow cleats to take the ‘shock’ load off the chain so it doesn’t…you know…snap) this swing can be 20 or 30 meters…that’s pretty big. So if you set an anchor alarm for 20m because…you know…the boat behind you is 50m away and you’d like a second to turn on the motor if you DO drag in the middle of the night you are guaranteed to be woken up 5 or 6 times a night to a vey alarming sound (get it? haha). My father-in-law suggested a ‘riding sail’ back in November (which feels like a million years ago)…this is a wee little sail you rig up on your stern to help keep your bow pointed into the wind when at anchor (LESS SWING) and given how much Matriarch likes to swing (insert obvious joke here :P) … it is looking like something to consider.

Today I felt compelled to write this blog post because we took the advice of some friends and anchored off Pigeon Beach in Falmouth Harbour when we got here a few days ago. Day 1 was great…close to nice beach…nice view of ocean…nice sunset. Day 2 was ok…got a bit more busy….we started thinking about moving further in the harbour…the swell at night was slapping the stern enough to keep us awake and move me out to the salon…and we knew bad weather was coming. Day 3 was deteriorating…1m swell building and rolling into the harbour (that’s big inside a harbour)…cross-directional wind and waves going against the swell making for some very sloppy seas…dinghy boarding getting very treacherous…dinghy rides getting very salty. Today is Day 3. Today is the first of about 5 days of big big winds and big big seas. We also were basically one of the most outside boats in the anchorage (us and SV Renegade who we very much like) and we felt...weirdly exposed. We wanted to get the heck out of there. 

So us being our usual anal selves we get in the dinghy before my work call this morning (which I have to take onshore somewhere with wifi because our signal in the anchorage isn’t strong enough) and we scope out some spots where we think there is room for lots of chain and lots of swing….we found a spot we thought would work and then hoped it would still be there when we got back to the boat an hour and a half later (who am I kidding…you know we dinghied by it again after my call before going to Matriarch to ensure it was still available) and then rode the bucking bronco back to the boat to get the anchor up and get the hell over there. In 30 knot gusts. It was freaking hard. 

Fast forward 2 hours and we are finally in place. AFTER 4 ATTEMPTS. 

• Attempt 1: too close to the Canadian catamaran to our starboard 

• Attempt 2: too close to the American boat off our stern 

• Attempt 3: that damn catamaran again

• Attempt 4: effing perfection 

But each time we made an attempt we had to put down 45m of chain…do the whole waiting thing to see how we swing and some times even snub it up…then un-do all of that work, bring up the 45m of chain and circle around again while 30 knot gusts are flicking you back and forth like a booger. So each attempt is about 20 mins of hard work and hard patience and then hard frustration. Greg and I deal with this differently (not surprising)…he plods on, slowly, methodically, and will stop and pause for REALLY LONG PERIODS OF TIME TO THINK AND USUALLY GET A DRINK OF WATER. Sheesh. I like to dig in deep and knock out decisions and (foolishly) will not stop for self-care until the job is done. And the harder I push the slower he goes…I try not to duck down below because I don’t want to bail on our shared responsibility but sometimes I need to in order to just not stare at him and wait for him to be ready for our next move. As usual, this opposite-land approach yields us well-thought out, but not taking all day, decisions. And we aren’t afraid to do it as many times as needed to get it right. Greg used a new hashtag in IG today that is so lame it’s funny #anchorlikenobodyiswatching bahahaha I love my geeky husband. 

Ok so we are in a good position, backed down hard on our spade at 2500RPM (that’s a lot…like the equivalent force of a big storm) and all set…so all good right? Weeeeell the anchor alarm has gone off twice already from just normal swing, our one neighbour thought we were dragging (we weren’t, we had our chart plotter on and could really clearly see our track) so we had to get in the dinghy and go talk to them, and while we were out there might as well go talk to the others around us too (they were all cool with our location after we told them we had 45m of chain out and a 77lb spade). And tonight, despite all of this, every time I hear the wind generator crank up to max buzz from a 30 knot gust and I feel that little shudder Matriarch does when the chain stretches out I will hold my breath for a moment, tense my muscles, strain my ears for sounds of things breaking and anticipate the alarm to go off. 

I know we won’t drag. I know we won’t drag. I know we won’t drag. (My mantra) We sat out over 40 knot gusts in Bermuda for a whole day with less chain out than we have now and we didn’t budge. Not one bit. And yet…

Tonight might be a 3 (4) drink night to facilitate a too-deep-to-hear-the-gusts kind of sleep :P Though that is not really a practical (or healthy) solution for the next 5 days. 

Much love, 

M