


We pull into Canouan Island. This had been after a casual night in the Tobago Cays. The group was interested in night life. As we pull into Charles Town, we anxiously look for an anchorage near any bar. Captain Don, as usual, weaves in and out of boats in the bay. He tucks in very close to shore, but actually found an opening for once. We set anchor, test it with one of the two aux engines. All appears ship shape. Everyone piles into the dinghy and we head for shore.
On shore we find a little bar above a restaurant. We are practically the only patrons at this time - early afternoon. It has the slow turning leaf shaped ceiling fans, and tons of wicker furniture. We proceed to order a few rounds and relax the afternoon away. I spent some time walking around the little bar, and exploring. It seems to be in such a remote location in the world. The bartender disappears for long periods of time, basically requiring us to track them down when we need another round. The port is very quiet, and there does not appear to be a whole lot of activity going on. It is early March in 1994 so there is no airport on Canouan Island, or any fancy resorts. Just a very peaceful and tranquil existence.
Eventually, we end up back on the boat. A small sailboat comes in as we are eating dinner, and they are looking for a place to drop anchor. The boat decides that in front of our cat would be the best location, so they drop anchor and drift toward us. A few of us remark that they are cutting it a little close. Oh well, we continue on with our evening and several hours and many laughs later - call it a night.
Now, it has to be 2 AM when I hear the wind pick up outside. I am actually relieved because the boat has been a hot box for the last few days. Nothing like being within the tropic of cancer to turn up the heat on a situation. The wind feels fantastic, and helps to purge the cabin of it's musty smell. (hey I was bunking with Candy...two guys in a little room gets a little ripe!) Shortly after the wind picks up, I start to hear this weird noise. It is a clicking noise. Kind of like a chain running along a......rudder? YIKES! I jump up and stick my head out the hatch. Mark and I are in the front Port cabin. I had pole position for the nights events. The boat in front of us was drifting free of it's anchorage. It was on top of our boat, and the clicking noise was the rudder of the boat in front of us running up and down the bridle (Cat's have a bridle system for the anchor to keep the nose pointed into the wind.) The boat was only 10 feet off of our bow.
Now, at this time I (not so delicately) kick Candy in the head and yell GET UP! I run to the Front Starboard cabin and yell at either Stub or Toast - GET UP! I need your help. Very quickly the entire crew (less Candy) is up and yelling at the boat in front of us. A head sticks out of the companion way. Something is yelled back in French.... Lisa steps forward and tries to communicate. The couple aboard the boat in front of us is obviously new to charter boats as he is fumbling around and clueless. He acts like he is going to start the engine and we all scream at him NO! (his prop would have wrapped up in the anchor chain that is running under his hull!
Stub and I jump in the dinghy. We figure that we are going to have to pull him off of our anchor line. We pull in front of his boat, and he tosses a line to Stub. I start to back up - pulling him forward and away from our boat. At first there does not appear to be any progress, so I start to dial up the throttle. The outboard on this little inflatable dinghy is a 35 HP. Way over sized. I - in my adrenaline rush - decide that if there is no movement at low throttle, then why not just Give 'er! Stub starts to scream "Your pulling my arms off, slow it down!" Later he swears that he almost went swimming as I tried to pull the dinghy out from underneath him. After a few dozen yards, we slow down, and the couple fire up their engine. The sailboat pulls forward and we go back to the cat. We watch the young french couple set their anchor again, and then go down to sleep again.
Next morning as we are all sitting around the big table in the open cockpit, we are discussing the evenings events. Candy actually says "your kidding, I don't remember a thing!". I swear that Mark could sleep through a small nuclear blast ;)