A Dinghy Lesson

The event I’m about to describe happened last evening in the dark. 

There are no pictures. 

Thank goodness.

The Background:  Most marinas build their docks high in order to be level with the decks of the large boats that tie up there.  In addition, they usually provide one smaller dock, lower to the water, for the dinghies/tenders from the boats on mooring balls.  We keep our boat on a mooring ball and use the dinghy dock a lot, sometimes several times in one day, shuttling back and forth.  However, our marina’s dinghy dock sits in a slip that also accommodates one sailboat (owned by the dock manager).  So when you motor in to tie off the dinghy, it can be a crowded experience.

Some boaters take their dinghies as far in as they can, because they anticipate staying ashore a long while.  That makes room for others to get in and out without have to push or pull on some boat to accommodate yours.  Others, thinking they won’t be on shore very long, put their rubber boats toward the entrance (because they don’t want to be stuck inside), which then requires those coming in after them to push and shove just to get in.  And with the sailboat, it’s a narrow area to begin with.  Life at the dinghy dock can be particularly frustrating when someone – usually new – decides to lock their dinghy.  This means you can’t move the lines around in order to make room for your boat.

So,…

Last night, we were having dinner with cruising friends who keep their boat on the big dock.  They sit just inside the end of the dock, sometimes called the “T”.  Last night, there were no big boats opposite our friends’ and as usual, there was a crowded dinghy dock.  So I made the decision to bring our dinghy to the large dock and tie off on the outside of the “T”.  Simple enough.  We climbed up the boards, had a wonderful evening of conversation and story-telling and when it was time to go, headed across the dock to our dinghy. 

Now, these rubber boats are well made… air-inflated tubes, with a hard shell floor.  They are shaped in such a way that the bow sits slightly higher out of the water, and many of them – ours included – have a small seat in the bow.  So, climbing down the boards to get back to the dinghy, I made the natural decision to step onto the seat and then down onto the floor.

I was holding onto the dock boards, like a ladder.  But as soon as I put my weight on the seat, the bow went down, just enough to slide under the bottom board and under the dock.  Picture this:  My feet are standing on the boat’s bottom, I’m still holding onto the boards and the boat is sliding under the dock…It happened in an instance.

As the boat slid, my body weight shifted and once the boat was inside, my butt was outside the boat, and I’m holding on for dear life – trying to keep my feet in the boat and my hands on the boards.  Marney and our friends are up above shining flashlights.  They’re saying things I’m not hearing and I’m trying to figure out how I can stay connected to this dinghy because if I let my feet go, then I’m going to have to swim to get back in it!  (an even more embarrassing thought)

It probably took all of 3-4 minutes, but it felt like 10-15.  In this elongated position, I’m now realizing that the back of my shirt is getting wet, as is the bottom of my shorts.  I made several attempts to shift my weight by using my legs to pull the dinghy back out, but the bow was now raised up and wasn’t going under the bottom board anymore.  Finally, I must have wiggled enough to get more of myself on the rubber tubing, I took my hands off the outside boards and grabbed something underneath the dock and squirmed back into the boat.  Then I leaned toward the bow enough to push it under the bottom board of the dock and we were free!

Marney quite easily joined me.  We said goodnight after an extra thanks for the help with this little embarrassing emergency.

This morning, all’s well that ended well.  Our dinghy is bobbing on the water, looking innocent enough.  I think I’ll use the dinghy dock today, crowded or not.  It’s a national holiday here (banker’s holiday I think), so it shouldn’t be too crowded.   I figure that as the word gets out, I’ll be the subject of a couple of  “sundowner stories” around here.   You might as well have one (story) on me, too!  Ain’t life a learning experience?

Fair winds and calm seas!

Dave