Just after we returned from our party cruise, we found an unhappy sport boat nipping around our stern, insisting we vacate immediately.
Ok, perhaps we misunderstood the instructions. We backed out with the angry young pup still hovering impatiently at our stern. Before we were clear, he goosed it, spun his boat into the wooden dock end with a thump, bounced off, recovered his composure, and darted into his space.
(I went back later to gather evidence of the splinters)
Oh well.
We moved around the dock to an empty slip on the other side - thus swapping lines, cushions, steps, power lines, etc in the process.
Monday morning, a maintenance guy handed me a note and said please move to Dock 8. Luckily Jim was nearby, so we cast off and motored over to the side of the Marina. Changing bumpers, lines, steps, etc. Again.
If you are having dinner at Chinooks, you might see Jason out front. Wave. And ask for Brian as your server - he's my brother.
PS - the Dock person told Jim he'd have to go through a "Basic Boat Handling" exam before they committed to our long-term stay at their dock.
We looked at each other, laughing. Fourteen hundred miles up the coast, 30+ tie-ups in treacherous winds, fog, dark, with no splinters - we CAN do this.
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