temporarily removed - found - and restored:
I anchored the trawler and the rest of the family fished, swam, sunbathed, read books and whatever non-divers do on lazy summer afternoons aboard a gently rocking boat on the hook.
My youngest daughter and I geared up for a dive on the 60fsw reef off the south end of Gedney Island in Puget Sound.
As we made our way down the line to the anchor I checked that it was set properly and noted that the scope I had let out was marginal given that I was just using the lunch hook. Well conditions were calm and I wasn’t too worried but for safety sake determined to make our dive in circuits that would bring us back to the anchor periodically.
The first circuit showed the boat had scarcely moved but still an uneasy feeling began to nag at me on our second circuit. Heading back to where the anchor should have been I found instead the tracks of the anchor flukes heading south… toward deeper water… and ever shortening scope… and soon the tracks disappeared completely.
Well now. At least I didn’t have to worry about the boat dragging to a lee shore… that was 3 miles to the south at Mukilteo. And since there was always boat traffic in the area I figured that eventually we would be able to get a ride to fetch the boat. What concerned me was the crew ~ no, make that passengers ~ on the boat… none of them were experience in starting or running it.
As we surfaced I saw our trawler drifting a half-mile away and picking up speed as the wind did likewise. I figured that Shane (part of the family but not yet a diver) or my teenage son might try to start the engine and come to pick us up. If they attempted to start the diesel without turning on the fuel the engine would end up stalling with air in the injector pump… which is a real pain to bleed out and get restarted.
I yelled as loud as I could across the water to them: Don’t Start The Engine… which I later learned, sounded like: Mumble START THE ENGINE… (but fortunately they didn’t know how.)
Time was of the essence. I needed to get picked up and back on the boat before they drifted into the ferry terminal at Mukilteo. Looking toward Everett I noticed a sailboat headed our way… white hull… light blue stripe… looked like a Cal… so we waved our arms and they hove to along side and sure enough it was my old friend Capt. Ken who always seems to be there to rescue me and always amazed at the providence of the situation… though I am not.
Surprised to find divers without a boat waving at him, and even more surprised to find out who it was, they eagerly assisted us into the boat. Sail boats do not make the best dive platforms and sail boats owned by non-divers are the worse of the lot… however we were able to get aboard and make our way over to Arwetheryet (our trawler) which fortunately was not there yet.
Once aboard the trawler we bid fond adieu to our erstwhile rescuers, started the diesel (with the fuel switch on) and headed back to port as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
I anchored the trawler and the rest of the family fished, swam, sunbathed, read books and whatever non-divers do on lazy summer afternoons aboard a gently rocking boat on the hook.
My youngest daughter and I geared up for a dive on the 60fsw reef off the south end of Gedney Island in Puget Sound.
As we made our way down the line to the anchor I checked that it was set properly and noted that the scope I had let out was marginal given that I was just using the lunch hook. Well conditions were calm and I wasn’t too worried but for safety sake determined to make our dive in circuits that would bring us back to the anchor periodically.
The first circuit showed the boat had scarcely moved but still an uneasy feeling began to nag at me on our second circuit. Heading back to where the anchor should have been I found instead the tracks of the anchor flukes heading south… toward deeper water… and ever shortening scope… and soon the tracks disappeared completely.
Well now. At least I didn’t have to worry about the boat dragging to a lee shore… that was 3 miles to the south at Mukilteo. And since there was always boat traffic in the area I figured that eventually we would be able to get a ride to fetch the boat. What concerned me was the crew ~ no, make that passengers ~ on the boat… none of them were experience in starting or running it.
As we surfaced I saw our trawler drifting a half-mile away and picking up speed as the wind did likewise. I figured that Shane (part of the family but not yet a diver) or my teenage son might try to start the engine and come to pick us up. If they attempted to start the diesel without turning on the fuel the engine would end up stalling with air in the injector pump… which is a real pain to bleed out and get restarted.
I yelled as loud as I could across the water to them: Don’t Start The Engine… which I later learned, sounded like: Mumble START THE ENGINE… (but fortunately they didn’t know how.)
Time was of the essence. I needed to get picked up and back on the boat before they drifted into the ferry terminal at Mukilteo. Looking toward Everett I noticed a sailboat headed our way… white hull… light blue stripe… looked like a Cal… so we waved our arms and they hove to along side and sure enough it was my old friend Capt. Ken who always seems to be there to rescue me and always amazed at the providence of the situation… though I am not.
Surprised to find divers without a boat waving at him, and even more surprised to find out who it was, they eagerly assisted us into the boat. Sail boats do not make the best dive platforms and sail boats owned by non-divers are the worse of the lot… however we were able to get aboard and make our way over to Arwetheryet (our trawler) which fortunately was not there yet.
Once aboard the trawler we bid fond adieu to our erstwhile rescuers, started the diesel (with the fuel switch on) and headed back to port as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Last edited:
