I still don't get it...

As I have said many times since we tied to the dock at Delaware City Marina, this marina crew is one of the best, most professional, and helpful we have run across. Sadly, the same can not be said for a few of the boaters that have tied up while we have been working our way though a list of mechanical problems.

This is how close the bridge is to our stern

For the fourth time since we have been here, First Light narrowly escaped being seriously damaged by a wayward boat. The fun started when Deb looked out over our foredeck and noticed that there was no one at the helm of the boat off our bow even though the engines were running. Not that unusual until she noticed that the Captain was standing on the dock and that he had already tossed both his bow and spring lines. They had been the lines holding his bow to the dock against the current. With them gone the boat was swinging out into the channel even as he freed the stern line. The swing continued until the swim platform was jammed against dock, pulling the stern line tight, which was all that was preventing his bow from swinging 180 degrees with the current and crashing into ours. And, let me say again, THERE WAS NO ONE AT THE HELM. Our intrepid  captain, having already undone the cleat knot, was in a tug of war with the current over the future of his boat, and ours. 

Deb and I jumped off our boat. Deb grabbed the stern line and ordered the Captain on the dock to get to the helm. He actually looked like he was going to argue with her, but I suspect the look in her eyes changed his mind and he got aboard. Once he got to the throttles she threw the line which was fortunately not knotted to the cleat and under too much pressure to untie. (Unlike one of the other near accidents.) But, since it was the wrong line in the wrong place, there still seemed to be little hope that he was going to clear either First Light or the bridge lying in wait maybe 100 feet away. I called for him to power forward. He hit the throttles hard, launching himself across the canal and shoving his bow into the trees on the far side. That turned out to be a good thing since the branches held his bow while the current pushed his stern enough that, when he hit reverse just as hard, he barely missed launching himself stern first into our boat. Then he powered forward (yep, near full power again) swinging wildly toward the dock. As he got power and helm under control we noticed the spring line trailing in the water on his port side. Apparently he had untied it without actually tossing it onto his boat.

At first it seemed impossible that it would not foul his port engine. Fortunately, the dock crew here has a habit of chain stitching excess line and laying it along the edge of the dock rather than coiling it and leaving it as a tripping hazard. It was pure good fortune that our wayward Captain had not undone the chain stitch when he untied his boat. The trailing line wasn't long enough to get into his shaft or prop. Another bit of good luck was that the water flow didn't undo the chain stitch either. With both engines still running, he managed to get speed and heading under control and, just like that, was no longer a danger to us. As for himself and anyone else on the water anywhere near him? No longer my problem.

It has been a couple of hours since that scare, and the jitters have mostly worn off. I am still baffled at the total lack of situational awareness. In the first place, I know he was at the Captain's briefing yesterday. A part of that briefing is the proper procedure to use when getting off this dock when the current is running with the ebb tide: i.e. on your bow but TOWARD THE BRIDGE.  It is easy and painless. Run a forward midship spring boat-to-cleat-to-boat. Start the engine(s) and have SOMEONE ON THE HELM. Pull the stern line as it isn't doing anything useful. Pull in the bow line and let the current ease the bow out into the channel pivoting on the spring. Ease the spring line if necessary to get the bow pointed past the boat ahead. Motor gently away and slowly retrieve the spring line. It is a simple maneuver. 

But even without the instructions, how could he not have noticed the current and realized what would happen if he left just the stern line attached? How did he not notice that his boat started moving the moment he freed the first of the two lines that were under pressure? How could he not be at or have someone at the helm? Just standing on the dock, looking at the current and the lines, how could he not see what was about to happen?

Human beings. I are one and I still don't get it.

This is the current speed as seen through one of our cleat horns near the waterline

A nice long empty dock with only two boats ahead of us, both highly qualified crews. Phew!

Too close for comfort - TWICE!

We will be here for a little while as our electrical system gets brought back up fully functional. It looks like a new set of house batteries and a preventative replacement of the current limiter will have us up and running again. Like the starter battery, the house bank appears to be holding a charge right up until you put a load on it. Then the voltage drops like an anchor and everything goes dim. So it seems likely that leaving the boat in a yard that prohibited boats on the hard from being hooked up to power was a very expensive, and wrong, choice. It isn't a mistake I plan on repeating. In any case, it isn't likely the work will be finished today but we are making progress.

During the trouble shooting, I learned something new about the system. Two of the three volt meters we have on the boat were reading a full, no load charge of 14v, which agreed with the volt meter the mechanic was using to read the batteries directly. The third, which looks like the original analog meter in the electrical control panel, was reading 9v. At first I thought it was an ancient gauge that should probably be changed. But the mechanic spotted an open circuit breaker that I had missed yesterday when poking around myself. As soon a he closed it the 9v reading jumped right up to match the others. That seemed promising but, clearly, that volt meter is reading something other than the house bank voltage that both the solar controller and the inverter / charger controller are reading. But if I look at that meter and see it reading low, I'l know that breaker is open for some reason.

In the midst of this morning's goings on the marina folks asked if they could move our boat back closer to the boat behind us, making for a space big enough off our bow for another boat. The weather forecast suggests they are going to need all the room they can get for boats looking for a place to hide starting this afternoon. So, sure, no problem.

A little while later we saw another boat heading down the channel our way, the current running strong behind him. On the dock were marina personal ready to help him tie too. I'm not sure exactly what when wrong or who wasn't listening to who. But somehow the inbound boat got skewed stern close to the dock with the bow out in the current, a current that had him heading in our direction at a speed that all but ensured we were about to take a solid hit. The kind that causes major damage and ends trips. I called to Deb to hold on as she had moved out on the foredeck. She was calling the same thing to me.

Somehow, at the very last second, one of the guys on the dock got a hand on the starboard side stern line of the inbound crash boat and lashed it around a cleat with some magic flick of the wrist without even bending over. (I gotta learn how to do that some day!) The pressure on the line would surely have dragged our hero into the water. In fact I'm impressed that the cleat held. But it did. (Have I mentioned that this is a first class marina?) The line caught, stretched, and recoiled. The wayward boat's bow swung into the dock, so close to ours that our anchors banged together. But nothing got tangled up and no damage was done. Inches...we are talking inches, and the bow pulpit would have been ripped out of the foredeck, ending this trip right here.

But—no harm, no foul. I have certainly botched my share of approaches to a dock. As it turns out, the Captain on the wayward boat, who stopped by to apologize for the scare, doesn't have much experience with his new-to-him-trawler or with the kind of currents common to these parts.

So there I was, standing in the galley to pour a splash of rum. I looked up to see a sailboat gliding down the canal riding the ebb tide current. As I watched he tried to turn to starboard to turn his boat around, getting him broadside to the current. Deb and I jumped off our boat to see what we could do to help but he swept past our boat headed for the bridge less than 100 feet away. He got the boat moving forward and was then aimed to skewer the boat behind us, whose crew was sitting in their aft porch unaware they were about to be in an accident. At the last possible moment his tiny outboard managed to swing his bow up into the current, which had him aimed at First Light's hull. He came around just enough to brush by without actually leaving any marks but the current nearly had him stopped. By then the people on the boat in front of us had joined in the group of people trying to get this guy on the dock without damage. He started to aim is bow at the dock but Deb managed to talk him into keeping his bow into the current. Had he turned, he would have certainly crashed into the bow of the boat in front of us. He finally got abeam of the empty spot on the dock and tossed me a bow line. With that we got him forward and tied too. 

I'm glad this day is over and I hope nobody else tries to get in here tonight. I'm not sure I would handle another close call with any kind of aplomb.

No video because we were too busy fending off, but here's a pretty

photo for your enjoyment. I loves me some Maincat 47P!!