On our way south last fall, we stopped at City Island just to get some rest and
perhaps catch a fair tide. We tied up to an outer slip. The sky was blue and
the wind light. We were below catching some shut eye, when without warning
the boat laid over on it's side, spilling stores from lockers and the crew from
their berths! Rushing topsides, with ditch bag in hand, I could hear lines
snapping and water rushing in over the cockpit coamings. The spreaders were
nearly horizontal when I looked up and saw this large, fat, rotund figure
standing on the rail.

"Hi! My name's Bob. Nice boat you have. Mind if I have a look around?"