After dropping off my crew, I swung around to the fuel dock and saw a whole line of powerboats waiting to fill up so as to take advantage of one of the last boating weekends. I didn’t need fuel for this Sunday afternoon so I decided to wait. The dock is also a pier type with pilings and the low tide presented a risk of a careless wake rolling my standing rigging into the edge as well as being difficult to get up onto the dock to handle lines.
My trip advisor, who has covered this route countless times, told me I would find the same situation here as I have all along the coast this late in the season: plenty of vacant mooring left by boats hauled just after Labor Day. I headed down the harbor and picked up one I could tell by the tangled and weedy pendant hadn’t been used in a few weeks.
Fifteen minutes later, after I had finished a hot shower (one of Strider’s few luxuries), the launch driver was alongside to say, “What’s up Cap?” I explained my thinking about the fuel dock and said I was going to go in on the late afternoon high tide after things calmed down.
“What then?”, he asked, full of implication. I said that it depended on the weather.
“Well, we’ll rent you a mooring for $50 a night or you can go anchor outside the harbor.”
I noticed that he didn’t say I couldn’t stay on that mooring and I didn’t ask for clarification. He left satisfied that I was just waiting for the fuel dock.
The fuel dock was ugly. There was a big set of corner pilings sticking out. I picked the last piling I could put my fender board against without having my bow pulpit and vulnerable running lights right next to the corner. I made a good landing and was working on getting my fender board centered on the piling when the dock attendant grabbed my bow line and started hauling forward as hard as he could.
“A little slack on the bow line please.” – No response except more pulling. The bow was being pulled tight into the space between the pilings and the lifeline stanchion in the rail gate was now hooked behind the pile and holding the boat back as he pulled.
“SLACK THE BOW LINE!” – Harder pulling and noticeable strain on the stanchion.
“LET GO OF THE %$#*&^%) BOWLINE YOU $%&&*$# DUFUS!”
At this point, I jumped up on the dock. The look on my face made it un-necessary for me to forcibly rip it from his hands. The top of the lifeline stanchions were now holding the boat off the dock due to the structure and the state of the tide. I got the boat moved back and secured properly before one of the big powerboats (this is evidently a “Make Wake” zone) went by.
“I just wanted to pull you up so there would be room for other boats.”, he said. There were no other boats at this point.
Fueling was uneventful although without the usual chit chat.
As I was paying, I asked the other attendant what the story was with mooring and anchoring. He said that there is now an “Anchoring Fee” for the protection of the breakwater which is equal to the mooring fee and the Harbormaster or police would be out to collect it if I didn’t rent a mooring. I don’t know if this is official policy or just clever marketing but I wasn’t in the mood for any more crap so I ran down the harbor and anchored among some other boats just past the harbor entrance stakes but still inside the breakwater’s protection. I would consider that “out of the harbor”. Anyway, it was late and cold and I doubted that anyone was going to come down to try and persuade 4 – 5 boats to move.
I spent and entertaining half hour watching and making video of two TowBoatUS boats getting the 30’ish foot sailboat off the sandbar where it had been completely dried out when I arrived. They couldn’t budge it together until on boat took a tow line to the main halyard and heeled it about 20 degrees.
I then went to sleep at 1900 again determined to make an early departure from this rather unfriendly place.
My trip advisor, who has covered this route countless times, told me I would find the same situation here as I have all along the coast this late in the season: plenty of vacant mooring left by boats hauled just after Labor Day. I headed down the harbor and picked up one I could tell by the tangled and weedy pendant hadn’t been used in a few weeks.
Fifteen minutes later, after I had finished a hot shower (one of Strider’s few luxuries), the launch driver was alongside to say, “What’s up Cap?” I explained my thinking about the fuel dock and said I was going to go in on the late afternoon high tide after things calmed down.
“What then?”, he asked, full of implication. I said that it depended on the weather.
“Well, we’ll rent you a mooring for $50 a night or you can go anchor outside the harbor.”
I noticed that he didn’t say I couldn’t stay on that mooring and I didn’t ask for clarification. He left satisfied that I was just waiting for the fuel dock.
The fuel dock was ugly. There was a big set of corner pilings sticking out. I picked the last piling I could put my fender board against without having my bow pulpit and vulnerable running lights right next to the corner. I made a good landing and was working on getting my fender board centered on the piling when the dock attendant grabbed my bow line and started hauling forward as hard as he could.
“A little slack on the bow line please.” – No response except more pulling. The bow was being pulled tight into the space between the pilings and the lifeline stanchion in the rail gate was now hooked behind the pile and holding the boat back as he pulled.
“SLACK THE BOW LINE!” – Harder pulling and noticeable strain on the stanchion.
“LET GO OF THE %$#*&^%) BOWLINE YOU $%&&*$# DUFUS!”
At this point, I jumped up on the dock. The look on my face made it un-necessary for me to forcibly rip it from his hands. The top of the lifeline stanchions were now holding the boat off the dock due to the structure and the state of the tide. I got the boat moved back and secured properly before one of the big powerboats (this is evidently a “Make Wake” zone) went by.
“I just wanted to pull you up so there would be room for other boats.”, he said. There were no other boats at this point.
Fueling was uneventful although without the usual chit chat.
As I was paying, I asked the other attendant what the story was with mooring and anchoring. He said that there is now an “Anchoring Fee” for the protection of the breakwater which is equal to the mooring fee and the Harbormaster or police would be out to collect it if I didn’t rent a mooring. I don’t know if this is official policy or just clever marketing but I wasn’t in the mood for any more crap so I ran down the harbor and anchored among some other boats just past the harbor entrance stakes but still inside the breakwater’s protection. I would consider that “out of the harbor”. Anyway, it was late and cold and I doubted that anyone was going to come down to try and persuade 4 – 5 boats to move.
I spent and entertaining half hour watching and making video of two TowBoatUS boats getting the 30’ish foot sailboat off the sandbar where it had been completely dried out when I arrived. They couldn’t budge it together until on boat took a tow line to the main halyard and heeled it about 20 degrees.
I then went to sleep at 1900 again determined to make an early departure from this rather unfriendly place.
