Several years ago we sailed a 43’ Hunter to Anegada from North Sound arriving later in the day than I would normally have liked. There was a kite boarding event going on at Pomato Point and much to my dismay the anchorage in front of the Anegada Reefs Hotel appeared full. We motored around the anchorage to see if we might spot someone getting ready to leave when I noticed an empty mooring ball in the far NW corner of the field. Wanting to make my approach to the ball upwind I made a wide swing around the outside edge of the anchorage. I felt I had enough headway that even if I did brush the bottom I could get around fast enough to not get hung up. Man plans, God laughs! And He must have gotten a good one this time for I ran hard aground. Or should I say hard “a-muck”. The bottom of the anchorage is a soupy almost mud like sand that brought us to a very abrupt and definite halt once our keel sunk into its grip. I reversed the engine in an effort to back out, but we didn’t move an inch. By now we were beam to the wind and getting pushed ever deeper into the muck. We had also become the main event of the happy hour entertainment. Frankly I much prefer being in the audience for these shows and not on stage - but I digress. Luckily one of the spectators took pity on us and came over in his dinghy to offer assistance. He suggested putting up the main in hopes of heeling ourselves over far enough to free the keel from its muddy trap. To say the least, I was not comfortable with the thought of being under full sail in the back of a crowded anchorage but neither was I comfortable with being aground, so I complied with his suggestion. I had read once where this was a doable solution but had never tried it. With much nervousness I hoisted the main and pulled her in. No dice. We moved not an inch. Next, still under full main, we passed our friend the auxiliary halyard allowing him to pull the top of our mast over even further. It seemed like all the shrouds and stays were creaking and cracking to their respective breaking points as he pulled ever harder and I revved the engine. I expected at any moment something (or everything) would snap. Luckily nothing did, but neither did we come free or for that matter even move. Our last hope seemed to be approaching from our bow in the form of a center console tender with a 50 or 60 horse outboard. This fine gentleman took our bow line and with full sail, full throttle, full port heel and 60 horses pulling on our bow, we finally started to inch forward and ultimately came loose! That happy moment was soon forgotten as it was followed by the moments of chaos that so often times interrupt those long periods of quiet blissful sailing. With only 2 of us on board we had to get everyone untied, get the main down and try not to run into anyone in the process - oh yes, don't forget to close the throttle. By we had attracted a much larger audience, many of whom I am sure were hoping to capture a YouTube video that would go viral and make them famous. Sorry to disappoint but fortunately for us and our immediate neighbors, things went fairly smoothly after that. Everything came together and we eventually tied to the mooring ball. Needless to say I was buying beers for my new friends at the bar that evening.

Footnote: Never allow draught/draft to exceed water depth