Goodbye to an Old Friend
I've said goodbye to an old friend. He always held when the shit hit the fan, even if he required some careful handling from time to time. He was stronger than Hercules, shedding insults and injury like the superhero he was. But, he was getting long in the tooth.
The new heros on the block took over long ago. The new boys don't rely on brute strength as much as guile. They out think the baddies instead of clobbering them into submission. I like that, but there was always something reassuring about knowing you had the strongest friend on the block, even if he wasn't always the slickest character.
My old friend was down there during Hurricane Gloria when the eye passed right over Katydid, taking most of the mooring field away with it. My old friend held. It was down there in the Storm of the Century in North Carolina. It was down there during the storm that later became the Perfect Storm when it went to the Grand Banks. It was down there in Hurricane Bob, with gusts over 100 blowing trees over the cabin top.
He still has lots of his kin out there, and he will continue on cruising proudly on the bow of a neat French aluminum cruiser. Yep, I sold my last CQR anchor at a boater's flea market here in Cartagena. I wasn't going to let it go for a song--it was just as good as the day it was drop forged. But, I was tired of breaking toes (two this year) on it. I couldn't remember the last time I used it. It was nice to know it was there, but now my Bulwagga rides the place of honor on the bow roller, backed up by two Fortress secondaries. I feel secure with that trio, but who knows, maybe I'll see if a Spade or a Rocna can displace one of the gang.