boat rage...

A trawler arrived in the Cove and jockeyed back and forth in a small space bordered by the steep rocky shore, my host-float and two neighbouring boats already anchored and tied up.
He asked if he can raft three boats in between...
I suggested he tie up at the opposite shore of the cove, where about ten empty tie up spots - side by side - would accommodate him and his friends with room to spare.
No, he said, there is room enough right here.
Whatever...
With the neighbouring boats anxiously watching the new arrival, I got my dinghy ready - this looked like fun.
Trawler finally dropped anchor close to shore - far too close to shore. Even the wife, hanging over the bow and watching the descending anchor chain said: the anchor is behind the boat, is that ok?
Husband said, it's fine.
So we start with the anchor practically useless, apart from happily laying on the bottm - somewhere.
Out comes the tangle of sternline. I row over and offer to take it ashore for him.
He said, ok, we are new to this...
Some rowing, finding a suitable disembarkation spot and clambering later, I am ready to thread his line through a suitable ring on the rocks, halfway between the neigbouring boats.
No, he wants another ring. I loosen the line, toss it to him (now also in his dinghy) and fish my dinghy back to the rocks to clamber back in and watch proceedings.
By this time one of the neighbouring boats 'General' voices the opinion, 'You are too close to me, and will run into my boat sooner or later.'
Upon which the newcomer, boat named 'Relax' blew his stack, called the skipper of 'General' a few choice words, one of which was the equivalent to 'nether region orifice'...and generally lost his 'cool'.
Nothing relaxed here.
I rowed out of firing range.
Wihtout further comment or ado 'General' got ready to leave his righful spot, hauled in his sternline, hoisted anchor and re-did the whole business - perfectly - on the opposite shore.
Half an hour later, 'Relax' hung between his sternline and a dubious anchor, when one of his rafting friends motored in, dropped his anchor beside 'Relax' and rowed another sternline ashore. Both now lay in the exact spot which had been vacated by 'General' - surprise, surprise.
The third rafter arrives, and all are together rail to rail, very cozy. As sound travels, I hear the conversation '....hole, told us we don't know what we are doing, left, and tied up somewhere else'.
'American boat?', one asked.
'Yes', comes the reply.
I am relieved that I did not have to act in a Canadian 'peace-keeping' role in a territorial dispute among a number of vessels under a common foreign flag.
Everyone on raft happy, even the dogs, and celebrating the victory over the ....hole, who dared critizise their anchoring skills.
I checked the tide tables, and planned to be up at 06:00 next day - tide would have fallen 9 feet by then.
I did not need an alarm. I woke up to the sound of scraping and engines running, the raft sat as expected on the bottom. No wind, no harm, no boat neigbours in harm's way.
Somehow, they are barely afloat, hoisted anchors, pulled out into deeper water as far as their still attached sternlines let them, and dropped their anchors straight down again.
Problem solved - back to bed.
Except, low-low tide happened at 07:30...The whole re-arranging of the raft started all over again.
When finished, the dogs had to go ashore. Problem solved - again.
Now I am checking tide tables for high tide...
At 16:00 waterlevel with have risen 8 feet, so will their boats. Their anchors, now hanging from a short leash so to speak, may be suspended in midwater by then.
Whatever...
The working tug is back 10:00, Monday morning start up time I suppose. Work at the dinghy dock commences again.