Leaving Italy

By Scott Dodgson

In the bright sunshine of the morning I prepared my yacht to leave Palermo. As I’ve written before Med mooring takes preparation and coordination to smoothly bring your yacht stern to the quay. Leaving the dock takes preparation especially if there isn’t a soul around to help. I have four lines coming off the stern; two spring lines and two stern lines. The spring lines are crossed so the vessel won’t sway in the slip. All the tension in the lines is created by the anchor firmly bedded in the basin of the harbor. Anchor, yacht, lines quay pulled taunt like the string in a bow. The first step is to take the stern lines; those are the lines coming straight off the corners of the yacht directly to the bollards on the dock. I loosen one line at a time and run the loop around the bollard and back to the yacht. A crew member can free the bitterend of the line and pull it on board without having to get off the yacht. With both stern lines ready, I take off the spring lines. Using the tension in the anchor and rode, once the lines are released and drawn back onto the yacht the boat will move forward. With Laura standing on the bow, her foot on the switch for the windless she waited for my signal to begin pulling up the anchor. A couple of years earlier I installed a chain washing system on the bow. As most boaters know there is nothing like the smell of anchor chain after it has been sitting on the bottom in gnarly, polluted harbor mud especially when the crew quarters share the anchor locker. By using the power supply to the windless, I installed a high pressure pump inside the locker. Using salt water, fresh water would be ideal, but who wants to waste that much fresh water when salt water will do the job I ran a half inch hose with a fire nozzle under the bow pointing it on an angle downward to blow the mud and crap off the chain and anchor. Once the windless switch was turned on the car wash was turned on. We glided forward with the natural tension pulling up the anchor as we moved forward. I never used the power of the motor unless I was fighting a strong wind. Laura signaled with her arm mimicking the angle of the chain. Once we moved over the anchor it dislodged from its muddy grave and began to come home. Once she could see the anchor near the surface she signaled that we could go. Dragging the anchor near the surface slowly for a few seconds is enough to drop shovelfuls of foul mud back to the bottom. With the anchor secure and the windless turned off, she directed her friends and my new crew to stow the fenders and lines. If this was an audition for her replacement Val and Beth would have been tied for eagerness. Nancy wasn’t in the running. She was more worried about getting sea sick. Next port of call Greece.