Hard Aground...

The second worst thing that can happen to a boat (other than water rushing in) is running aground. We did that, yesterday. It wasn't on purpose, and it wasn't as if the Captain hadn't been studying his charts (he's always looking at those things). It just sort of snuck up on us. 

The GLORY B draws six feet of water. So it was with a fair amount of comfort that we anchored in twenty-five feet, just inside Apple Cove. Not too far in because some of these places are notorious for turning to mudflats on a minus tide. We parked directly across from the ferry landing, a fair amount of space before the turn-in to Kingston Marina. 

A stone's throw away from a sailboat that was bigger than ours.

Easy peasy. Quiet night, beautiful morning. The Captain went off to town in the dinghy, while I did some work I had been putting off during our last crossing. When I'm working, I don't notice much of what's going on around me. You might even say I go somewhere else. 

This book by Eddie Jones
is now on top of my
reading list.

Which is why it came as a complete shock when the boat suddenly tipped over with a horrendous crash, and sent a shower of morning coffee on top of me. Along with anything else that wasn't tied down. Books, dishes, backpacks, etc. We hadn't even begun to get ready for getting underway, again. 

The floor was nearly vertical as I pulled myself out from under the debris and peeked through the nearest port. Horrors! The water looked only inches away from coming in. Considering I hadn't backed up any work for weeks, the thought of all my electronics getting drenched was appalling. 

I didn't know how much time I had to rescue stuff. Moments? Hours? Where did my briefcase go? Where was my purse? I finally took the only option I could think of.  Screaming and hollering for help.

Since the Captain had started back when he noticed the boat going over, he was practically there by then. So close I heard him answer, not to worry--I was only in two feet of water. "Just climb onto the high side," he told me. Which was easier said than done, considering I have been neglecting my endurance exercises for years. 

Let's just say it was a humbling experience to finally crawl up out of the hatch to find children playing nearby, in water that was barely up to their knees. By that time there were a couple other rowboats coming close, ready to render assistance to all my hollering. Not to mention a crowd of onlookers from the ferry that was docked and going about its normal business. Oddly enough, the boat that was "only a stone's throw away from us." was grounded but still afloat.

Everything ended OK (it always does when the Lord has you in the center of his hand). The tide came back as gently as it had gone out, re-floated us, and we chugged away as if nothing had ever happened. No damages. There were a few things down below that were bent out of shape (along with my self image) and another mess to clean up. 

All that about my electronics getting wet was a false alarm.

There's a lesson somewhere in all this, but I haven't sorted it out, yet. At the moment, I'm just wondering if my propensity for adventuring is more of a weakness than a strength. Or if I will magically turn into a stronger person somewhere down the line. Meanwhile, I'm hoping the Captain can put up with me till I get there.