Lay Day | Pulpit Harbor, North Haven

What was a mostly lovely lay day turned ugly--and nearly disasterous--in the evening thanks to yet another stupid anchoring debacle. It seems that I always manage to have at least one moment of angst on every cruise: snagging a lobster pot on a 25 knot day, running out of fuel, bilge water rising above the cabin sole...

A Well-deserved Lay Day

After those first two exhausting, but exhilerating sailing days, I was ready for the first lay day of the cruise. After all, a large part of the enjoyment of cruising, for me, is relaxing in a pleasant harbor somewhere far from the cares of home. To that end, I relaxed!

I did manage to get a little bit of work done first thing. Once I finished my coffee, I spent some time getting a maintenance coat of varnish on the grab rails, sea hood, and companionway trim. Since I actually enjoy varnishing, this really counted toward my relaxation quota.

After reading for a bit, I put the dinghy motor on the dinghy, and headed out to explore the harbor. I motored up each cove and then under the small stone bridge and a ways up the tidal estuary at the northeastern reaches of the harbor. There were any number of very nice large, but actually classy homes to ogle, and more than a couple very nice boats as well. After an hour or so, I returned aboard and relaxed through the evening spending most of my time reading. Throughout the afternoon, clouds began to build, with a few ominous looking thunderheads in the distance over the Camden Hills.

Near Disaster

Around 1700 or so, a largeish (40 feet?) classic-looking sloop arrived and dropped her anchor in the middle of the harbor, where the chart indicated a depth of about 30 feet at low. I didn't pay much attention as they were quite a ways off from me, but I did hear the guy up at the anchor say: I've got 110 feet, is that enough? The captain indicated it was fine and they never backed down to set the anchor. Soon, another slightly smaller Hunter arrived and rafted up with the sloop. Can anyone see where this is going?

Soon after dinner I noticed that the breeze had suddenly shifted to the north-northwest. It was only about 10 knots, but for some reason it made me just a bit nervous. I honestly don't know what made me apprehensive about it but something made me take down the cockpit table and start the engine. Just in case. It was getting quite dark, as it was just about sunset, and the sky was filling with thunderclouds.

Quite suddenly, the wind rapidly built. It wasn't that strong, maybe 25 knots or so, but I decided to get the awning down quick, just in case. I cut the awning loose and stuffed it down the companionway hatch just as the first spattering of rain hit. The wind brought with it a goodly chop, and I was a little nervous now having swung around 180 degrees on my anchor and hanging some 15 or 20 yards from a lee shore.

At that moment I looked up to see the two rafted boats dragging--rapidly--through the anchorage. Everyone onboard the two rafted boats was below decks and other yachtsmen in the anchorage were yelling and blowing airhorns to get thier attention. They finally came on deck just seconds before smashing into a third anchored boat which got it's bowsprit tangled in the lifelines or rigging of the sloop. This third boat had its engine running already and tried to power ahead off the lee shore with the 2 other boats tangled at its bow.

This made the trio of boats--still with anchors out--head directly towards me. The three boats were dragging very quickly toward Dasein and were only about 50 feet away. By now the rain was intense and lightning was crashing all over the place and I had a moment of absolute blinding panic before realizing that my engine was running. I threw the boat in gear and stomped on the throttle, powering ahead and to port. The three boats passed fewer than 10 feet from my stern and surely would have hit me if I hadn't been able to power out of the way.

Aftermath: Nervous Night

Just off my stern, the three boats came free from each other and the Hunter was able to power out of harm's way. The sloop went hard aground on the ledge 20 yards off my stern and the third boat--a double ender with a bowsprit--may have gone briefly aground, or may have just managed to stay off the rocks and eventually was able to power off the lee shore and out into the anchorage where I believe it picked up a mooring.

Fortunately for the sloop, we were near low, on a rising tide and they were able to kedge off with the help of a couple of other boats' dinghys. They limped around into Cabot Cove, the first cove to the right as one enters Pulpit Harbor, where they presumably were able to pick up a mooring.

Soon the rain and lightning passed, however the northly wind continued to blow at about 10-15 knots throughout the night. My anchor was clearly well-set, however the chop coming through the anchorage, and the memory of the boats dragging through the harbor was fresh in my mind and I didn't really manage more than an hour or two of restless sleep in the wee hours of the morning.