The myriad things to be done before the dinghy is ready to cruise.
A small item: the anchor.
The boat came with a folding fisherman, with no rode, and a folding grapnel with 2m of chain and enough line.
The old chap doesn't trust either of these, but he had a Danforth with 3m of chain which he knew was reliable (if dangerous to fingers).
He knew because it had held the West Wight Potter in a violent overnight thunderstorm on the Stour when the rode was bar taut and dead straight.
That thunderstorm had been a beast.
He'd been reading in the well as the evening drifted toward dusk and the sun sank over Essex. At first he'd thought the flashes to the South were the electric trains between London and Harwich (the ones that serve the North Sea ferries out of Parkeston Quay) but they became too frequent and too bright The constant low rumbling should have been a hint but then the wind began to rise and the rain began to fall. By midnight the rain was torrential, the wind screamed in the rigging and the thunder & lightning were continuous. He peered out of the tiny cabin at the glittering mud on the North bank and tried to guess how hard the little boat would be driven onto it when the rode failed; would he be able to crawl through the mud to firm ground?
As the dawn sun struggled through the cloud the thunder still rumbled away to the East and North.
But; back to that small item, the anchor.
That thunderstorm had been a beast.
He'd been reading in the well as the evening drifted toward dusk and the sun sank over Essex. At first he'd thought the flashes to the South were the electric trains between London and Harwich (the ones that serve the North Sea ferries out of Parkeston Quay) but they became too frequent and too bright The constant low rumbling should have been a hint but then the wind began to rise and the rain began to fall. By midnight the rain was torrential, the wind screamed in the rigging and the thunder & lightning were continuous. He peered out of the tiny cabin at the glittering mud on the North bank and tried to guess how hard the little boat would be driven onto it when the rode failed; would he be able to crawl through the mud to firm ground?
As the dawn sun struggled through the cloud the thunder still rumbled away to the East and North.
But; back to that small item, the anchor.
Simple. Unshackle the grapnel, cut the rode from the Danforth and shackle the two chains together. Except that the shackle on the grapnel was a block of rust and had to be cut away from the anchor with a hacksaw. The old fool cut the bow (in two places) and then found that the pin section would not pass through the link of the chain. So then he had to saw through the pin. We won't mention the complication of holding it all still because the shackle was too small to be held in the vice.
The shackle on the Danforth chain was bronze, so not rusted, but it took half an hour with WD40 and a shackle key to move the pin. And then it wouldn't fit through the links of either chain. The ditty box supplied a smaller shackle which did fit. But, being stainless steel, it will, one day, fail without warning.
A 15 minute job became 2 hours of frustration.
The old man hates shackles, and he hates Monel wire even more.
Which is why his mainsheet blocks are attached to the boom and the traveller with selvagee strops: simple, reliable, replaceable bits of cordage.
So why didn't he replace the anchor chain shackles with strops?
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