Swingin' on the Anchor

We’ve been out on the water for several days now, getting re-acquainted with Azure Wind and the islands here.  After a week of cleaning days mostly at the marina, it’s been good to be out.  Across the Drake Channel to Peter Island, west along Tortola to Soper’s Hole (Blackbeard’s place), north and across the open waters to Jost van Dyke and a visit to Great Harbor, White Bay, and Foxy’s (a story for another time), then south to Norman Island to one of our favorite anchorages at Benure’s Bay.

The Christmas Winds have had a good week but late yesterday they finally slowed.   Benure’s is simply beautiful – 30-40 feet of water, clear blue, surrounded by hills on three sides, no mooring balls (which means that we don’t see many charterers here).  It’s a calm place.  From the bay, you can look across the Channel to see Tortola and almost to Road Town.

Looking toward Tortola across the Drake Channel

We dropped the hook in the early afternoon, did some cleaning chores – mostly wiping down the stainless to remove the salt – put things away, pulled the hammock out, took a swim (well, Marney paddle boarded but when I tried, I fell in and had a swim instead!  J ).

The best, though, was yet to be enjoyed.

There’s nothing quite like a clear night sky, no clouds, and a good swing on the anchor.  It’s that experience where the boat, being held by a single point – anchor or mooring ball – pivots back and forth, responding to the linger motions of wind and current.  Sometimes the swing can be stiff and bouncy; other times it can be like a gently rocking cradle.  Lulls you to sleep.  Last night, it was a wonderful gift to sit on the bow, look up at the stars and watch the world move before you eyes.

My first real “swing” happened in the early 1990’s, at the end of the first day of our first charter in the central Caribbean island of Guadeloupe.  We had sailed 15 miles to an archipelago called Isle de Saintes.  Quaint French village on a U-shaped island, lots of boats anchored.  Because it was a first, there was a good bit of coping stress that day.  After several failed attempts to set the anchor, a neighboring sailor right behind us came over and offered to help (he had ulterior motives, I’m sure – wanting to make sure we didn’t drag into his boat that night).  With his help, we were secure on the first try and after voluminous words of gratitude, we said goodbye. 

Then we joined the chorus of other boat swingers.  Mostly we kept time and rhythm together, but not entirely.  Back and forth, left and right, a slight and occasional up and down motion as the waters lifted the hull, listening to the gentle lapping of the water against the side.  I remember leaning my head back against the bulkhead in the cockpit and, while not moving, watched the world move back and forth.  Said goodbye to the setting sun and hello to the harbor lights; had more than my share of sundowners that evening.  Our friends Peter and Donna Sword can attest to the latter.  Such joy – and relief!

Sometimes the swing can be agitated, as when the winds stay high through the night and blow up some white caps around you, and you bounce more than you gently roll.  Not all nights are so calm and peaceful.  That first night was; so was last evening’s. 

Simple gifts.  A snippet of joy to remember.  The world turns and returns.  Each boat has its own swing and so this isn’t a precise water ballet.  All the boats face the same forces of wind and water on the anchor, but each one experiences those forces in a slightly unique way.

And it’s another reminder of how God’s world is.  Life and the world is about motion.  The movement of the stars and galaxies, the water, wind, and even in the most infinitesmanlly small ways, the land.  God is on the move; so are we.  The world is constantly changing.  What’s needed to make it through is the integrity of the vessel – the person, the community, the nation, … the boat!

Fair Winds and Calm Seas

Dave

on a slow swing in the morning