Picked up a huge ball of weed on the anchor in the Bay of Small Isles. I wonder how well it would have held in a blow:
It responded quickly to the breadknife, though. The chart shows weed in the bay, but not where I anchored.
A weedy day followed: wind appearing and disappearing, poling out the jib and taking it in, starting and stopping the engine. Without the tide I'd still be in Craighouse.