Ah, it goes on. After the tide changed and the currents swung us back the other way…we seem to be “OK.” Not hunky dory, but OK. On the GPS our anchor track looks normal but in a different location than it had been. The heavy anchor chain hasn’t pulled back so we’re a little closer to shore in front of us. We figured that was good: No one would be temped to motor over our bow rode or chain with so little room between us and shore.

No such luck. A hefty power boat “Ladies Choice of San Rafael CA” decided to anchor right there. On top the Norhill. Really. Their bow is 3 feet from shore, their stern 30 feet from our bowsprit. In a line, right on top of the smaller of our two bow anchors. The other one, the CQR is, luckily 40 to 60 feet away in a slightly different direction.

The place is empty. Not a soul in sight. A couple empty houseboats that people come to on the weekends lie across the cove. Space, space, everywhere space. And, this fellow decides to anchor right on top of us. I went forward and talked to the fellow as he was doing it. He’d already set a stern anchor a ways off up-current from us and it would make sense for him to anchor, tucked into shore if that’s his desire, ummm closer to the stern anchor. Nope, he says “I’m not on top your anchor.” and “don’t worry when we’re done we won’t be on top your anchor.”

Well, he’s atop the anchor and I suppose I’ve done enough complaining about it and will move on to other topics. The epoxy glue on the new dingy seat will be dry tomorrow. If David and I want to, we can pull up anchor and move somewhere else at that time. It’s a little difficult to set an anchor without being able to row out the stern anchor if needed so we’ll have to wait…

After I got everything sufficiently varnished this morning, David and I installed the new seat in the Tinker and then David canoed over to the blackberry patch to bring back another load of berries. Man, I really wish I had all my canning stuff here. Alas, I don’t! I left jars and lids in a storage unit in San Diego–never dreamed that I’d need them before we get back down there this winter. Each day that we’ve gone there, in one spot we can pick 2 quarts of berries in about 1/2 hour. If we were willing to wear long sleeves/gloves and reach further into the bushes, we’d get at least 8 quarts of berries in that location, daily. Alas, no canning gear so no reason to do so. After getting tired of fresh berries alone, on Wednesday I made a cobbler and we had lots of cobbler for two days. No berry picking yesterday–too many berries. Today, with the two quarts David picked, I made a blackberry crumble cake which made a wonderful dessert and will do quite nicely as breakfast and dessert tomorrow as well. We’re going to be tired of blackberries shortly, but at the moment, this is great! After David returned with the berries, we swam for a while–need to work off all those blackberry calories! This is such a nice spot for swimming, too.

More later…

OK, why is it that you can be anchored in a huge bay, cove, area of water and a boat will come in, ready to anchor, and drop his hook within a boat length of you and your anchor? Like moths lured into the flame, it seems that if there’s a boat already at anchor it will be “attacked” by all the other boats.

And, that’s what just happened. We’re peacefully at anchor–bow anchorw/125 ft of chain deep in a channel near shore about 60 feet in front of the boat and stern anchor w/ nylon rode about 140 feet behind the boat anchored in a mud bar. A few days ago a little group of three boats (under 30 feet each) rafted up about a boat length away from us. Close, but they were also off our bow by about a boat length, so it was all ok. And, for a raft-up they were very quiet.

This morning, a mid-40 foot boat came across our bow with intent to anchor between us and the little raft-up. Oh, my. David was below making coffee and I was on the foredeck varnishing the bulwarks and caprails. I called down to him “prepare to drag.” And, yep, the marauding boat caught our anchor chain and began to pull our bow sideways towards the little raft-up. I called to the fellow at the helm that he’d caught us. His boat was being swung around towards us (and our canoe tied between us and him). He called out to me “move the canoe! and do you have fenders?” Impending doom. However, lucky for us he got “unhooked” with his boat a good 15 feet away from us and he motored away saying “So Sorry!” and “I didn’t know your anchor was there.” Makes one wonder–if our anchor isn’t right in front of our boat–where is it?

Well, now I’ll tell you where it is. Somewhere not in front of the boat. We’ve got two bow anchors out–the one to the left is now to the right of the other and we rather suspect they’ll be tangled up shortly if the currents and tides don’t do us the favor of swinging us around. We’re pulling dangerously sideways on the stern Danforth (which doesn’t like sideways…) so we may have to re-anchor shortly. We’ll wait for the varnish to dry and possibly reanchor in a couple hours if things don’t resolve on their own.

Bad timing–varnishing going on (me) and the dingy being rebuilt (David) so we can’t even row out another anchor at the moment. With three in the water, all we have left are the 105 lb Delta and the 120 lb Fisherman. Can’t see setting either one of those with the canoe…

More later…