Things That Go Bump In The Night, Again

Well, not so much bump as a kind of groaning grinding clunking.

WW stuck his head out the hatch and declared it to be a log fouling our anchor chain. The groan-grind-clunk continued intermittently all night. It was like having Marley's ghost as a neighbour. Les an Anthea claimed they never heard a thing. Lucky them.

When it was light enough, WW went overboard and dove on the “log” while Les and I worked at the anchor chain. It turned out the "log" was a twenty-foot spar off some vessel, and had nasty sticky-outy bits. It had rolled over and over, completely wrapping itself in our chain. Fortunately, it wasn’t terribly heavy, and WW was able to unroll it. Perfect timing, too…it became light enough to sail just as he emerged from the water.