Restless

Lumme, wrenched awake I was, by that rumbling sound of a chain shifting on the sea bed. Nothing to be concerned about. But then, a repeat, and a repeat, and I must say, despite my anchor alarm being set, sleep became increasingly difficult. After two hours, at 5:30 I was pretty wide awake and surveyed the anchorage, nicely nestled in a horseshoe of rocks to find that the ebbing tide was flowing through it like a river. I’m out of here. And I was. A fine sail in a grey dawn right into the west harbour at Granton, where I dropped the anchor and slept soundly till 10am. 
Later, the boatie council meeting. Two hours ten minutes!! <insert sweary words> We now have three people on the Council who umm and ahh and raise issues and then think them through aloud and then digress. Listen, take it away and come back with a proposal! Use your bloody noodle. Once I’m the chair, some stick will be put about, I’m telling you. I may allow myself a little slack of course. A little leeway. Nautical expressions, both. Pay attention at the back! What did I just say?