Why do we always have to learn the hard way? Especially with boating, when the hard way always equates to the expensive way.

This is the story Bob, a man who in over 20 years of boating had never, ever, gotten his anchor wet. Bob is an excellent boat handler. There are none who can compare when it comes to maneuvering in tight spots.

His background as a fisherman has taken him all over the world in every kind of boat. He has been in some mighty rough places, but none that require dropping the hook.

It has actually been a running joke with our good neighbors on the dock. We were going to replace his windlass with a plastic, West Marine store model and figured he would never notice.

 So, we were surprised when Bob pulled up to us a few weeks ago and had his anchor dangling from the bow.

"Can we tie up with you?" he called across the water.

"Of course, you are always welcome."

Bob is the fellow who delivers tomatoes, cucumbers and fresh eggs from his garden when we are anchored.

"What's with the anchor?" Sweetie asked.

"I thought I'd drop it" was Bobs reply.

"It's his first time!", said his lady friend Diane.

Hey, whatever. We were anchored in about 12 feet of water with an ebb tide running and about to turn. I rolled out chain to the next mark so that we wouldn't drag with the additional weight of the shiny Cabo. Bob dropped his aluminum Danforth about 40 yards away, then backed down expertly and handed off lines when he got close enough.

We set the fenders, adjusted the lines and ran a spring between the boats. Diane kept repeating, "it's his first time!"

Celebratory drinks were poured and Diane brought out a platter of beautiful cheeses, crusty baguettes and a creamy pate' that their guests had provided earlier in the day.

We didn't notice the tide change. It was decided that they would spend the night with us at anchor. Bob asked if he should pull up his Danforth before retiring for the evening.

We explained how two anchors will twist around each other if there isn't a stern anchor set to prevent the boats from swinging with the tide and that pulling his up was probably a good idea.

We all said good night and as I was getting ready for bed, I heard some clanking from the bow next door. I figured it was Bob pulling up his hook. I sleep better at anchor than any place else in the world, so when I heard commotion and saw that it was light, I figured Bob and Diane were leaving (she had to be at work early on Sunday).

I woke Sweetie and asked him to go out and give them a hand untying the boats. Minutes went by, and then more time and still there was no sound of engines - only the clanking of chain.

Curious, I got out of bed, got dressed and went on deck. Sweetie and Bob were bent over the bow of the Cabo trying to unknot the tangled chains.

Bob's Danforth had grabbed onto our chain when the boats swung. No surprise there, that's what anchors do. What was a surprise is that Bob had already called Vessel Assist, who told him that they don't come out for fouled anchors.

Bob's next step was to free the anchor from it's shackle, hoping that it would simply slip off the chain.

Diane kept saying, "it's his first time, wouldn't you know? It's his first time..."

Sweetie, not knowing that the anchor was not connected in any way except by the knots of chain tangled in the flukes, was surprised when the anchor went "plop," and disappeared from sight, forever.

We all laughed out loud when Sweetie said, "Hey, I didn't know these things were disposable, use once and throw away."

We were intending to bring Bob one of the many anchors we have picked up over the years, but by the time we returned to the dock, he had already been to West Marine and bought a replacement.

I'll bet this one will never touch water!