Moorings, the Moment Killer

I have witnessed this anomaly a number of times now, and feel I have managed to correctly identify the cause and consequence, and thus have correctly categorised the anomaly as “Moorings, the Moment Killer”.

Picture this.  You have spent the morning with your man exploring a new island, walked the markets and seen the sights, hand in hand.  Add some stereotypical laughing and gazing into each other’s eyes over a mango smoothie: one smoothie, two straws.  You have returned to your boat and sailed out to another nearby island.  The sun has warmed your back, your hair waving in the breeze.  You glance at your bronzed man at the helm, confidently steering the boat, flashing you a smile with his white teeth, and wait...did he just flex his biceps?  You reach your anchorage.  The water is flat calm and topaz blue, palm trees lean over an idyllic white beach that you will have all to yourself.  You are sent to the bow to pick up the mooring.  Boat hook in hand, you rest the base on the deck and hold it like a tribal staff.  Your own bronzed body can be seen in all its glory, the wave reflections and wind giving you a somewhat model-like appearance. 

You are approaching the mooring, 10 metres to go.  “10” you yell to you man at the helm, “What?” he yells back “I said, 10 metres to go” you answer, frustrated as it is more like 5 now, and having to turn your head has made you lose sight of the mooring.  “2 metres” you yell.  “Where is it??” he yells back with an irritated tone.  An angry fire has been light in you belly.  Where the F* do you think it is? You mumble to yourself.  “There!” you point right in front of you, well now just about under you since you have had to answer.  You go in with your boat hook, but the boat is going too quickly.  The mooring rope, kept at the surface by a floater, is now flying fast down the side of the boat out of your reach. “Agh!” your man yells, apparently not at you, as he will tell you later.  “I’ll just have to do it again!” he remarks snidely.  The boat swings a tight circle, again too fast.  When the mooring reaches the bow it is now two metres away from the boat, completely out of reach, even after extending the boat hook to its limits.  “You have got to be kidding!” you man mouths off from the helm.  You are fuming.  Your teeth grind against each other involuntarily.  “How am I supposed to get it when you are nowhere near it!” you refute.  “Just WATCH THE MOORING!” he yells, now approaching the mooring for the third time.  He has just about run over it, he is still going too fast.  You manage to contort yourself around the anchor and lean so far out of the boat that you feel you are about to fall, you strain the muscle along your side, but Yes! YES! You have caught the line! 

You quickly pull the line up and place the boat hook down on the deck.  You hook the eye of the mooring line over the cleat while you try and sort out the ropes to make a bridle.  “QUICKLY!” your man yells, suddenly up at the bow with you.  You are stressed, what else does he want me to do quickly?? You are paralysed by his urgent tone. “GUH!!!” he breathes out loudly and snatches the rope from your hands, then feeding the rope through the eye and cleating it.  “You were just standing there doing nothing!” he accuses you....

And so you see, the moment was killed.

Thankfully, Gary and I have not been personally involved in any such fight, but we have been honoured to be the watching boat next door on so many occasions that it is impossible to count.  Although desperately entertaining, it plays out like a Mr Bean episode, where you know how it is going to go wrong and it is difficult to watch it unfold.  

As a side note, if you are the couple who rented the Virgin Traders, who missed the mooring entirely, and needed the adjacent boat to pick it up for you after you missed for the tenth time, you should be ashamed of yourselves. It is called an extending boat hook because it 'extends.' 

While Moorings may be the “Moment Killer”, I believe I have also witnessed an anomaly that could be categorised as the “Home wrecker”, but I will fill you in on this a little further down the track.  At times I have considered that perhaps Gary and I should have only embarked on this adventure after we have tied the knot!  At least our episodes have not been as entertaining as the couple described above.