Kohara-Pinnacle

Perched on the hillside, a clear night, stars close, so still, so silent, cold. A long night ahead.

Cuddled in blankets, taken as we were, slowly and carefully handed over the side of Kohara into the waiting dinghy.  Rowed ashore and deposited. Stu had returned for torches and food.

Sliding off their mattress, my brothers, confused, half-asleep, wriggling up again. To awake later, further off the bed. Wide awake now, concerned, confused, worried, the stern was high. "Dad", mike called gently with urgency, "The bow is down". A whispered conversation. Plans made. Mum awake, worried about the girls. Dads feet swung out of the bunk, dry, relief flooding.

"Kathryn, Anne ", Dad voiced, waking them. "Are you dry?" sleepy mumbles of "yes Why?" Dad with authority, calm and even. "Nobody move, stay where you are."

A torch handed, slow movements, Mike peered over the stern, no water, further down at the torch lights reach, a faint reflection. More quiet conversation, Mike crawled forward on deck, slowly, looking for water. Amidships, found at waterline level. Further forward, no water on deck, reprieve.

Knowledge gained, understanding dawned. The stern was aground, the bow still afloat, stability unknown. The how's and why's circulated. Care had been taken, the anchorage surveyed, no shallows found.

Carefully, slowly, Stu untied the dinghy, crawling, dragged it forward. When in reach, he lowered himself onboard. Kohara, unaware of the ballast movement, sat solid. Stu, paddling, with a torch in hand, surveyed. Astonished, the keel stuck fast on a rock pinnacle. The water level on the hull was noted. Deepwater all around.

Deemed safe for slight movement. Kathryn, Anne & Barbara slow movements, bags stuffed, warm clothes & blankets, singly crawled topside, The others waiting on centreline, boat balanced. Forward to the mast, with Stu's help, slipping overboard into the dinghy.

Sitting on that hillside, adrenaline overtaking sleepiness, an adventure. Stu checked his water level mark, the tide still receding. Forward hatch battened down against incoming tide. Kohara's incline increased as sea levels fell. Into a bag, two thermoses of boiled water, a tube of coffee milk, a can of sweetened condensed milk and loose tea. Then, some bread & cheese, a tarp, more blankets, the men came ashore.

More comfortable with the tarp beneath and blankets on top, warmth inside from weak tea, sweet and syrupy from condensed milk. Periodically rowed around, inspected, marvelled at. Balance perfect. Thankful for stillness, not a ripple.

How much incline could she withstand? The questions, worry, planning left to the men, the girls huddled, slept. If she fell, at best, a hole at worst to fill with water and sink. A Mullet boat with an open cockpit, easily swamped.

Slack tide, a sigh of relief. Flooding tide, Kohara's balance monitored, nothing more possible, wait and watch. A morning breeze, unwelcome, but just a puff, to die again.

Her bow lifted and lifted, with the sun came hope, floating free. Back onboard, breakfast was welcome. Mike donned a wet suit & snorkelling gear, not a scratch to be seen. So fortunate.

Stories told, the bay revisited, no pinnacle ever found.