Mine isn't really a grounding story, but it was a lot of fun, anyway...

We were on the last night of our two-week bareboat in the BVI, with a
STT charterer. We pulled into Little Jost's pond and prepared to throw
out the hook. As I like to not have to run out hundreds of feet, we
parked in a relatively shallow spot, had dinner, and relaxed. There
were two other boats widely scattered from us (which we later learned,
were smarter than we).

This was Easter weekend, so there was a brilliant full moon above, and
relatively calm water lapping gently against the hull as we retired.
We caught a few bumps, which were just soft dragging of the keel over
the sand bar, not the least alarming, and then, none.

Peacefully sleeping, I awoke with a jerk (well, that's my wife's line,
anyway!) to find us at about a 45* heel. Bounding out of bed, I was
amazed to find we had no water over the sole - and, for that matter, no
water in the bilge, either!

Once I'd gotten awake enough to figure it out, I realized that we'd
dragged onto a high spot on a sand bar, the wind and waves had died,
and we'd perched, vertical and safe, on our keel. A passing breeze or
wave knocked us over, and there we were, high and dry (and safe)!

I figured, no problem, about noon, it will be high tide again, and
we'll float off. So, I went back to bed and acted as Lydia's mattress,
with me against the hull. However, now, when we woke, the moon was
behind the earth. Guess what that did to the water level? Not much...

Kedging didn't work. Two guys hanging on the boom didn't work.
Eventually, one of the other boats' 25HP dink (with which he'd been
pulling the kids waterskiing!) hooked on to all the line we could
muster attached to the halyard, and we got pulled off with the
appropriate application of power from our auxiliary brute of perhaps
30HP.

Thanks all around, including giving the couple who started helping us,
and who were borrowing a family boat for the last two years and living
on about $1 a day (!!) as they cruised all over the Atlantic before
taking it home to the upper latitudes, all of our remaining provisions,
which was like we'd given them the keys to Ft. Knox, from the way they
responded, and we were uneventfully on our way.

Whenever we actually do our website, the pix I took at dawn will be up
there. Pretty funny :{))

L8R

Skip and Lydia

Morgan 461 #2
SV Flying Pig - Callsign Pending!
http://tinyurl.com/384p2 The vessel as Tehamana, as we bought her

"Believe me, my young friend, there is *nothing*-absolutely
nothing-half so much worth doing as simply messing,
messing-about-in-boats; messing
about in boats-or *with* boats.
In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter,
that's the charm of it.
Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive at your
destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never
get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in
particular; and when you've done it there's always something else to
do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not."