January 29 12:46 AM On anchor watch

We have spent the day playing refugee. Yesterday a large cat anchored close to us, this morning we moved since we did not dance to the same tune in the growing winds. Before we were able to re-anchor the gale hit with blinding rain at 30+ knots of wind. We found a clear spot and dropped the hook ... much to the displeasure of a boat directly ahead of us. They were jumping up and down waving all sorts of appendages. Their radio signal was garbled and not understandable. So we sat in the downpour working out our next move. Having been displaced by a larger boat earlier in the morning we were not about to be forced out of our current position without a clear plan. Once the rain subsided the forward boat managed to communicate their concern. There was a current that would force Pilgrim very close to their boat even though we were 300 feet apart, why we would swing with the current and they would not is beyond me. We decided to sit tight ... they were not happy. As it turns out the opposing shore had the final say ... a large gust of wind swung us into shallow water and we had to pull ourselves free with the anchor. Time to move again. Another gale hit just as we hauling. The water blew into spindrifts making it hard to pick our way through the anchored boats. After several failed attempts we ended up close to where we had originally spent the night. This time ahead of the cat but positioned for a wind shift forecast for midnight. It has become very clear that boaters in these waters are very protective of their personal space (anchor swing room). They make it very clear that strangers are not welcome in their "backyard". I had mentioned alliances formed by boaters during their trip down the ICW and across the Gulf Stream. Now I am beginning to understand their real purpose. Alone you can be bullied, with allies a radio call away you feel an increased sense of power to push your agenda. While we were looking for a new place to settle the radio chatter between allied boats
became a modern jungle drum ... here they come ... they had better not try to settle here ... can't they just stay away. So here I sit at midnight watching the wind speed climb to 30 knots, watching the distance to the anchor, keeping an eye on the boats around us and hoping
for that promised wind shift that will place the position game back in my court. Have a good night ... Brian