Pleased with my brilliance, I slipped over the side and found that I could, indeed, stand in the water, my foot slipping gently into the warm, slimy mud underneath. I grabbed the painter for the dinghy, since it still held the kedge anchor and headed for the channel markers. Once the bottom dropped away and I was floating in the PFD, I lunged over the side of the dinghy, caught the kedge anchor and dropped into the mud, feeling for it with my toes to make sure it was on the bottom and ready to dig in.

I pushed and swam back to the boat, dragging the dinghy behind me. When I got close, I tossed the painter to my wife again and she pulled the two of us up alongside. I climbed back on board and, taking the free end of the kedge's rode, I twisted it around one of the massive jib winches and started to crank.

The line tightened and then started to creak. Water ran out of it where it had rested in the river. The boat leaned slightly to port, but the line was getting tighter faster. My wife began to suggest that perhaps the line wasn't quite big enough to pull us out and I began to prepare my explanation of why the line was perfectly acceptable for what we were doing, when a distant roar caught our attention. We stopped to listen as it got closer. It turned out to be the county marine patrol, there to save us from both the grounding and from saying something that might have resulted in a broken marriage, if not a broken body (mine).

TO THE RESCUEFRANK MUMMERTAlthough the James River looks wide at this point, the channel is only about one hundred feet across and it winds both to port and starboard.

They slid up alongside us and throttled the two 150 HP outboards down. The older and more experienced looking captain looked up at me and asked if we needed some help. Before I could open my mouth, my wife had explained the situation and let them know that we either needed the boat moved or she needed to be taken ashore. If they hadn't been able to help, I am not sure that her next request would not have to borrow a hand gun and ask if they would kindly look the other way for a minute.

They surveyed the situation and decided the first step would be to retrieve the kedge anchor, since that wasn't doing any good and would only interfere with them getting us out. They took the end of the anchor rode and sped over to where the kedge lay buried. After a few minutes, they returned, minus the anchor.

The captain explained that the kedge was now buried so deeply that they couldn't get it out. They had buoyed the line with a fender and promised to come back and try to get it out after we were free. Otherwise, they would bring us the line.

They swung around us and determined where the nearest deep water was. Basically, it was nowhere. I had succeeded in getting us wedged in good and tight and it was at least a hundred feet to the nearest drop off. They decided that brute force was better than finesse and tossed us a tow line, which we tied off to the anchor windlass. We retreated to the cockpit, they retreated to the cabin on their boat and the twin outboards roared into life.

They pull the bow around in the mud and she started to move, slowly at first, then more quickly. Eventually, the bow was pointed at the channel and we were grinding across the mud flat at a respectable speed. As the boat started to come free, the captain slowed his engines down, just in case we came free in a hurry. We didn't, he had to drag us all the way out into the channel and it was only when we were free and the tow line started to slack that he was able to drop his speed and swing around again.

As we drifted, I fired up the diesel again and thankfully the engine came to life. I dropped into gear and headed for the center of the channel. The tow boat sped away, back to the kedge anchor and in a couple of minutes was back, with the anchor muddy and dripping, but free. They came alongside and handed the anchor over to my wife, who, bless her soul, took it and thanked them. They asked where we were headed and she told them.

They gave her some advice about where to stay close to the shore and where to stay close to the center of the channel, and then sped off in to the gathering gloom.

My wife looked at me quietly, and then asked if we should try to anchor for the night. No way, I said, we're almost home.