The worst and funniest ways on how not to anchor!

[geem]

Anchored in bay in Cascais. Marine Police patrolling bay and telling everybody closer than 300m to beach to move further out. Big posh Portuguese gin palace is asked to move so he starts his engines and sets off forgetting he has anchored. Never laughed so much in my life whilst drinking a beer in the cockpit. Everybody on deck of power boat fell over when the anchor chain went tight.

 

[jonrarit]

Oh dear…so many tales to tell….. where do I start

Aged 12 on my fathers Nicholson Jolina on a “boys weekend” with dad a few of his mates. Came into Lamlash bay, the crew more than likely a few sheets to the wind already. Found a cracking little spot, right outside the hotel (read short row to the bar) with plenty of room ………. Beers, food and more beers followed as they do ……

….. in the morning all was well, crew stirred to the smell of coffee and bacon …. Life was good ….. until one of the crew (nicknamed “Snail”… still sails with my dad) leans over the side while brushing his teeth at which point it felt like we were falling off the end of the world until we came to a rest of about 30 degrees ….. yup tide had gone out and the long keel slowly settled into the sandy bottom leaving the boat perfectly balanced…..until said teeth brushing enforced one of Newtons laws…….

…… now we know why all the boats were anchored outside us……..

Spent the day on the lawn of said hotel waiting for the tide agreeing with all the other hotel guests that "they must have felt real plonkers for anchoring there!"

JR

More to follow….. lots more

 

[jonrarit]

Tranquility bay, Greece. Myself, the wife and another couple returning to the boat after a lovely meal ashore and far too many wines and beers. Trying to be as quiet as possible which as we all know is impossible at 1am watching said wife battling with gravity to get a foot onto the boarding ladder.

After several minutes and hoots of laughter we’re all standing in the cockpit to which I offered “Would you like the good news or the bad news?”

“Good” was the unanimous reply

“Well we’re all safely back on board”

“….and the bad news”


“It’s not our boat”…………

jr

 

[Boreades]

By modern standards our boat is now little and old (just like its owners). But once upon a time it was used for charter work, and so we still have the extra-long anchor chain and extra-long warp that were required at the time. (No, I can't remember why it was required).

To keep our children interested, and do a bit of training, we'd been up the Tamar to Dandy Hole, and anchored there overnight. No problem. M'Lady Boreades then expressed a desire to go to Cawsands. So I helped #1 Son up-anchor. He remarked it was heavy work pulling up the anchor chain, and it was difficult to get the anchor up over the bow roller, through the front of the pulpit and into the locker. So I showed him how the anchor could be pulled two/thirds of the way over the bow roller, so it balanced on the bow roller, with the weight of the locker lid providing a counter-balance. With the lid tied down, all was snug & safe, and it would make everything much easier when we got to Cawsands, wouldn't it? Oh yes.

You might have already guessed this is famous-last-words territory.

Going back down the Tamar, we'd gone past Devonport and done the "left hand down a bit" to go past King Billy and get level with the outer breakwater off of Mayflower Marina. From where we could see the open sea, which was not quite as calm and sheltered as Dandy Hole or the Tamar. M'Lady Boreades then made an executive decision that we didn't need to go to Cawsands anymore. Ever eager to comply with her every wish, we agreed we'd better put away the anchor and get the fenders out.

At which point #1 Son opened the locker.

At which point we bumped over a wave.

At which point the anchor slid forward over the bow roller, and the whole load of anchor, chain and warp began a rapid descent to the sea bed, about 40m below in the deepest part of the Tamar.

#1 Son looked a bit shocked and started to move towards the chain & warp rapidly sliding over the bow. I was fearful he would try and grab the chain and get his hand mangled, so screamed "Don't touch that!". M'Lady Boreades then woke up to the situation, and contributed by shouting "There's no need to shout at him!" at me.

At which point, it became a three-way shouting match.

Fortunately, the bitter end was tied on. But (of course) all this was close to a large audience standing on the breakwater (why oh why were so many standing there then, when it's usually empty?), and neighbours from Mayflower Marina going past in their boats with a quizzical look on the faces (WTF are they anchoring there for?), and then one of the bosons from Mayflower Marina coming alongside in their workboat - "Do you need any help?". Oh the cringing embarrasment of it all.

By now #1 Son was in a mega-strop - "It's not my fault! I'm not pulling that up!" - and huffed off down below to play with his tablet.

So it was Captain Donkey's job to pull the whole lot back up, while M'Lady Boreades continued to get her retaliation in first from the comfort of the helm. You're not pulling fast enough. It's all your fault. I didn't hear you say to motor slowly forwards.

Oh how we laughed.
Later, much later.

 

[30boat]

When I was about 21 I took my fathers Arpege out ,without his knowledge, for a day sail and lunch with my very hot girlfriend.When time came to pull the anchor up it was stuck fast to the bottom and nothing we did managed to free it.In the end I tied a fender to the rope and sailed back to harbour.I managed to borrow some diving equipment off my sister's boyfriend and the next weekend ,again without telling my father,we took the boat out and,never having used scuba gear before,dived and freed the anchor.The chain had wrapped itself around a length of steel bar sticking out of the bottom!My father never found out bless him...

 

[Achillesheel]

One sunny afternoon we decided to anchor off a lovely Cornish beach. Our anchor rode is a couple of metres of chain, and the rest rope. I pulled out the right amount of rope out onto the deck, SWMBO motored slowly in until the depth was right, and I dropped the anchor over...

Unfortunately I hadn't bothered to arrange the rope & chain carefully enough, and the whole lot tied itself in about half a second into a huge tangled lump which then jammed against the pushpit.

I could only untangle it by getting the whole lot out, SWMBO motored gently round & round for half an hour while I sorted the mess out.

The there was the time on a Croatian flotilla when we were haring along on a beat, wondering if we could get the lee rail under; just as we did, the kedge anchor and all its chain deployed itself out of the basket on the pushpit rail. I hadn't realised our boat had an automatic speed limiter.....

 

[KellysEye]

Decades ago we anchored a charter boat in a bay on the north side of Meganissi in the Ionian. It was flat calm and we lowered all the chain and rope, only when I came to pull it up did I realise that the bay was so deep the anchor hadn't even touched the bottom. Good job the wind didn't get up.

 

[Norman_E]

I've still not seen this personally (though no doubt others have) but in the Ionian this summer as a charter yacht reversed into their stern-to mooring we heard the plaintive cry from the young girl handling the anchor on the foredeck; "Dad, the anchor's in the dinghy!"

I saw that happen in Bozburun harbour. The boat got in between two others and the flotilla lead boat skipper just got in the dinghy and rowed it out to drop the anchor.

 

[Jonas]

Nice sunny day at Stein, Skye where we'd anchored overnight. Says I 'we've got a bit of an audience, all those people on the beach so let's sail off the anchor'. Up goes the mains'l and sure enough all of the bodies on the beach are watching as we sail up to the anchor and slew around. No amount of winching will get it to move and I'm getting more and more frustrated - the crowd on the beach all getting their money's worth now, taking photos as I'm pulling and straining before giving up and dropping the sail.
After being told to 'calm down dear' and a restorative cup of tea, managed to get the anchor up using a chain rider and the motor.
Moral of the story, never try and show off in front of an audience!

 

[mjcoon]

This was certainly not funny at the time (last month) and not much better in retrospect. It is an extract from a blog of the trip at http://www.mjcoon.plus.com/page54.htm

The winds started while we were anchored just north of the base at Poros to avoid yet another night on the quay. The bay was sheltered and had been recommended to us and we let out an adequate length of chain. We saw a large sailing catamaran anchor a bit further out in the bay, in slightly deeper water. In the early hours Bob got up and had a look round and saw this catamaran looming over us and immediately thought that it had dragged its anchor near us. Seconds later the two yachts bumped and the collision brought Ian and I, in sleeping gear, onto the deck.

We soon saw that we were the ones that had dragged. The skipper of the catamaran also was on deck and helped to fend the boats apart. Although he urged us to do nothing, presumably to avoid personal injury. We decided that the only way to prevent damage was to let out more of our abundant chain. That way the wind blew us astern of the catamaran. But because both yachts were yawing about on their respective anchor chains we sometimes came near to collision, so we kept our engine running to prevent this and had at least two people in the cockpit for the rest of the night.

In the morning when it was light enough to see what was happening we were able to motor back past the catamaran, dragging our chain behind us. With the shouted help of the catamaran skipper we were able to drag our anchor out from under his chain and motor free without further collisions, despite the wind still being brisk.

Mike.

 

[[32511]]

Tranquility bay, Greece. Myself, the wife and another couple returning to the boat after a lovely meal ashore and far too many wines and beers. Trying to be as quiet as possible which as we all know is impossible at 1am watching said wife battling with gravity to get a foot onto the boarding ladder.

After several minutes and hoots of laughter we’re all standing in the cockpit to which I offered “Would you like the good news or the bad news?”

“Good” was the unanimous reply

“Well we’re all safely back on board”

“….and the bad news”


“It’s not our boat”…………

jr

Love it!

 

[ytd]

40 years ago, on a long weekend Port Phillip cruise on our newly purchased first keelboat. Motor u/s but we weren't going to let that stop us enjoying the cruise. Ghosting along the beach we come across Frankston Pier with an inviting pub across the road. We anchor in about 3m near the pier so we don't have land on the beach and get wet feet. Next morning crew goes looking supplies. Shortly after they disappear the wind starts to come up. By the time they get back it's 25kts onshore with a nasty 1m chop. After wet crew and groceries are on board we put up the storm jib to sail off the anchor. Ex racing boat which goes to windward well so shouldn't be a problem sailing off. Manual windlass so the bowman is told to winch as fast as he can as soon as there is any slack on the chain. After a couple attempts at sailing off, the chain is effectively vertical and the chop is sending loud bangs through the boat. We call the bowman back because something is going and give and I don't want anyone up there when it does. After about 10 minutes of banging the chain goes limp and up comes the anchor stem without the plough bit. We tell ourselves it must of got caught under a rock but as we sail past the end of the pier someone notices a red sign "Danger Submarine Cable High Voltage". Console ourselves that there doesn't seem to be a blackout ashore and that nothing is marked on our age-uncertain chart.

 

[[29051]]

Some years ago we were crewing in the Maldon Regatta. We thought we were the winning boat, screaming towards the finish line with everything up. The skipper prepared the anchor and put it over the side and secured it ready to round up and drop once we were over the line. Suddenly the chain started pouring out over the side. The deck was smoking. The skipper shouted at us to stand on the chain to stop it. No-one was keen to try that ! The boat came to a shuddering halt short of the line. It transpired that the fluke of the fisherman's anchor had neatly picked up the eye of a mooring buoy in the channel. We took a photo at low tide of the 50m mark in the mud where the mooring block had been dragged.

I turned around and took this photo of Ostrea Rose overtaking us to win. As it happens we had been disqualified at the start line anyway, but didn't know it !

 

[Frankie-H]

In a small bay just to the north of San Antonio, Ibiza. We had anchored for lunch and to wait for the day trippers to go home so that we could move a little closer to the shore and into shallower water for the night. We had about 50 mtrs out in about 25 mtrs of water. The wind was a gentle force 2/3. Lunch and a bottle of wine were taken and we had retreated to our aft cabin for a siesta. I was dozing gently until SWMBO suddenly shouted 'What the bloody hell is that ?'. If you looked up from bunk level through the small side window, you could clearly see the stem head of a sailing boat. I arrived out on deck in my underpants to find that a german 50 footer had anchored next door to us. Having a rather different shape, length and scope out his sequence was very different to ours. At the closest I could touch his bow !! They were having a good party in their cockpit and it was a little while before the owner/skipper/ whatever would acknowledge my shouts. I asked if he spoke English, which he did. I explained that the situation was dangerous and asked him to move. His only reply was to shrug and say 'Vee are Vaiting'. I asked him to Vait somewhere else but again the same response. I went below and reappeared with my monster bolt croppers. I explained to him that I regarded the situation as dangerous and if his boat touched mine, I would cut his f*****g anchor chain, which was quite close enough to reach. There was a lot of Germanic consternation going on but it took them but a few minutes to recover their anchor and leave. We do have some very good German friends but a lot of the best anchoring stories are told about the Germans.

Part 2 to follow.

 

[Frankie-H]

Part 2

A very close friend was at anchor in the outer harbour in Andratx, Majorca. A stiff westerly was blowing straight into the bay and a moderate sized German MoBo arrived up ahead of him. The sun was hot and the cocktails strong but he could not fail to notice that the German had a diver down. There was quite a lot of shouting going on and the diver took a rope down with him. At about this time our friend noticed that his boat was starting to drift. The crew of the MoBo hauled up an anchor, attached to a chain. Very obviously his. He motored up to the German and asked him to put his anchor back where he had found it. All in good Anglo Saxon. The owner shrugged and threw it back over the side. Peace was restored and the MoBo left. Very shortly after he had gone the young diver reappeared in his dinghy. He had a good look round and threw his anchor over the side, kitted up, took a rope with him and in he went. He reappeared with a nice shiny anchor but no chain, pulled it into his dinghy and left. The German MoBo came back some time later with 2 divers, this time, They spent a long time under water but found nothing at all.

 

[Stemar]

My first trip out on the East coast. I was helming up the Stour and, being used to the Solent, I didn't pay a great deal of attention to the red buoy a few yards off Wrabness. There was half a mile of water to starboard and a boat coming towards me so I left the buoy to port.

The log read, "stopped, dropped anchor and had lunch."

 

[Ianhampshire]

Many years ago I, my wife and two kids were enjoying the first day of a two week flotilla holiday in the southern Ionian. The wind was blowing strongly so I found a large bay and dropped anchor in the lee of a headland where a couple of boats where already sitting comfortably. The water was around 8 meters deep so I paid out the full scope of our 20 metres of anchor chain and after I was happy it was holding, the family set to enjoying the afternoon. Several other boats joined us over the next 2-3 hours so that when we came to lift the anchor and leave, unsurprisingly it had become fouled. A couple of other boats who were clearly intending to leave at the same time also experienced fouled anchors and a general air of frustration, some shouting, many suggestions and much arm waving ensued. Eventually I found I had managed to reverse the boat 50 metres or so further off the land when the anchor chain slowly changed from a taut line going away from the bow to being almost vertical. No amount of muscle power seemed to be able to lift the anchor and chain so in desperation I put a line to the chain and used one of the Genoa winches to try and heave it up. Each turn of the winch saw the boat heeling further and further over until finally the toe rail was in the water at which point I accepted that it was unlikely I would be able to recover the anchor without assistance. The bay offered me plenty of scope to take an accurate fix on the boats position where I intended to let go the anchor and chain, suitably buoyed, and go fetch some help with which to recover it all later. I took the largest fender on board, secured it to the bitter end, and let the whole lot go over the bow. A big splash was followed by the fender plunging vertically down deep into the clear blue water till all I could see was a small circular white disc from above.

Returning a couple of hours later with the flotilla leader, we quickly fixed our position directly above the lost anchor and chain. Looking down we could again see the small white disc representing the top view of the fender. The flotilla leader donned his mask and flippers and dived down. When he finally surfaced he shook his head, climbed back on board and we motored slowly back to join the rest of the flotilla. He explained that upon diving down he managed to reach the fender although it was some five metres below the surface and the water pressure had squeezed it flat. The chain continued to fall vertically down into a further 15-20 metres of water and the combined weight of 20 metres of chain plus a 12 kg anchor was simply too much to haul up manually and had to be considered lost. What we realised was that our initial anchoring position had been on a shelf and that by reversing away from the land we had in fact dragged the anchor over the edge of the shelf where it had then plunged to the bottom in the deeper water. Live and learn.