I can hear the clinking of their silverware as the French group has déjeuner on the chartered catamaran next to us. They are THAT close.
I work hard throughout the day to take it all in stride, but when one of the sailors pulls out his piéce and pees off the starboard side in full view of our cockpit, I’m incensed. Mikayla could easily view his boorish behavior from her portlight, and I cuss loud enough for him to hear, “F*** an A! Can we leave now?”
I have been thwarted in my attempts to persuade Mike and Mikayla that we must relocate. Granted, I missed my opportunity early this morning when the French boat pulled up next to us and dropped its anchor. I should have pointed out then that they were too close. Since we were the first arrivals in this small patch of sea in Salt Whistle Bay, Mayreau, I could have asked them to move.
As I observe our newfound neighbors, Mikayla repeatedly whines that I’m staring them down, and she reminds me that I dislike the same behavior when we’re anchoring. The difference is that while she’s concerned about being embarrassed, I’m worried about their proximity.
The two men at the bow of the cat chartered through Switch.Fr knew that I was watching them. How could I avoid it when they were only 60 feet away? Once their bridle was attached, the sailor mentioned above inquired as to our departure time. I responded that we planned to stay another day. He indicated that his group planned to depart at 8 a.m. Did that put any distance between us? Only when he pulled out his piéce.
I made an argument for pulling up our anchor shortly after lunch. I explained to Mike that I was worried about our home on the water while the French boat was a rental. They could leave the consequences of their choices up to the charter company. I suggested that we get a report on sea conditions from a couple of boats that had left earlier in the day and then decide between Tobago Cays and Saline Bay, Mayreau.
Ironically, a path of safe departure opened up when a Brazilian boat that had anchored too close to us yesterday, IMHO, had left. It would be simple for us to pull up the anchor, spin around Happy Times and head out through the opening.
Mike listened carefully as he always does, but he argued for staying. It was late in the day, he explained, to pick up and leave in 25k wind with squalls threatening throughout the afternoon. He suggested instead that we remain in our present location, because it offered less risk than moving in dicey conditions.
He gave the okay, however, for hanging fenders off our starboard side in case the other cat comes too close. I also got permission to use the air horn if the French boat infringes on our space even more.
Perhaps our neighbor took offense at our fenders. C’est dommage. They’re staying right where they are.