Well pants and pegs I suppose. I go for a swim most days and hang my swim pants on the life lines. I have learned the hard way over the years to use lots of pegs. However when I woke up and found my pants missing I was surprised, I knew it had been a pretty calm night and this is not one of the anchorages where swimmers stealing stuff off boats are a problem. Anyway these were old and faded pants with rust stains, I mean who other than a tight Scotsman would be seen dead in them.
It was during my second coffee when the brain cells were getting kick started that I noticed 4 clothes pegs on the seat next to where the pants had been. A close examination of said pegs showed that the ends were well chewed by something with sharp pointed teeth.
Ahh we have a suspect. The Dizzy monster has been chewing the pegs and in the process unclipping them from the line so my beautiful red pants are free to escape to pants heaven. Ah well I bought them 7 or 8 years ago in Primark so they have served me well.
I knew that my prop would be fouled from the time spent in Falmouth so swapped my chain cleaner for the scraper and donning snorkel gear set off to do battle. A few minuts saw the hull cleaned of barnacles and the prop scraped clean of a variety of vegetation. Dropping the scraper off in the dink I set off to search for my pants. This was more in hope than expectation. Much to my surprise I spotted them in about 40 ft. Now I know I can not free dive that deep any more so returned and got the dinghy anchor and wet fishing for my pants.
The trail gave me some great views back over the anchorage.
But the hiking plus my exertions in the water meant that I was feeling pretty tired by the time my sundowner was due.