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A rainbow welcomed us to Vieux Fort.
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Ready for a break from
tourist-focused areas, we anchored in the harbor of industrial town of Vieux
Fort.
After a night of respectable
rocking, anticipating more from the fringe of a tropical storm, we relocated to
Vieux Fort’s tiny fishing marina.
The local fishermen helped there us anchor amid increasingly gusty
winds, stern-tying us in 3 places to their cement wall dock, balanced against
our two anchors.
At about 11:30 pm, well past
our usual bedtime these days, we happened to be up watching a movie when…
BANG! CLUNK!
We looked outside and realized
despite all our precautions, both our anchors, set hours before, dragged in the
gusty, likely up to 40 knot winds, shifting between Southerly and North Easterly
– a big swing.
For non-boaties and to paint
the scene a little better….
The ropes and weights that
held our boat away from the cement pier, the fishing boats perpendicular to it,
and the rocks, were no longer holding our boat in place. Our boat wavered between slamming into
the cement pier, a large battered wooden fishing boat, and a rock wall. We were able to use fenders to keep us
from repeatedly slamming into the cement dock, but the dock overhang was slam
dancing disconcertingly with the solar panels on our davits. A well placed foot, a temporary measure
for sure, kept us from slamming into the fishing boat.
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Hmmmm. A sign is needed for this? My bet... something simpler like a "No pee" icon would be more effective. |
Wayne adjusted the stern
ties, dinghied out in the dark, swirling wind to re-anchor, while I alternately
let out or snugged up the lines. Slowly,
we pulled away from the boat and the cement pier. Then we swung towards the
sharp, jagged rock wall, potentially far more damaging than the pier and other
boats.
After repeated attempts at
this, we decided to remove the stern ties to get further from the rock
wall. Less secure, in theory, but
enabled us to re-anchor in a safer spot within the marina.
Time completed: ~ 1:30 am.
Conditions: dark, swirling winds, odiferous (aka…
stinky), dirty (rife with floating trash), a break from the 24 hour torrent of
rain except for the last 10 minutes, not a soul around besides the two of us,
down to our last 5 gallons of water, which came from our watermaker prior to
entering the marina
Result: 2 anchors held better that 2 anchors
plus 3 stern ties, put together by 5 people; we slept until 8 am, 2-3 hours
past our usual bedtime
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