Boat Landing cont..

I thrust the Honda 4-stroke into Forward and nearly wrenched the dock off its mooring. "It's still tied on! ...pass me your knife!"

With the rope cut free, the boat took off like a kite-the upper deck acting as a perfect wing foil. I heard Bobby hollering for James and Tenzin. Futile. Wind carried his words away.

The marina channel was very narrow. The motor was straining to make the corner. Visions of the Sunbird smashing into the blue 20ft yacht. Made it. The deck was adrift with our gear that had sprawled in the dash to the more protected rear of the marina.

Bobby managed to make one cleat fast, but the boat spun out so we couldn't tie off the stern. I glimpsed James peering out of the bar window. I gestured wildly. He hurried down the jetty to help tie her off.

We were exhausted, so pitching Botsford's tent was out of the question. They took the hammocks and Bobby and I crashed on the deck on our 12" wide mattresses.