and came around the point protecting my favorite anchorage only to find another boat almost in "my spot". Not completely in my spot but close. It was a 35 mile sail over after a long week of work so I slid in between him and the island and dropped my anchor and then started to set my stern anchor. This guy comes out and starts explaining to me that I was "very close" and that he was "uncomfortable about it". He wasn't being a dick about it but his vociferation was, shell we say, ramping up. I was the jerk and said "I'm fine, I don't wan't to hear anymore of your shit" and went down below. My wife was just sitting in the pilot house, giving me the stink eye, but not saying a word. Then after a while, very softly, she said "you know, we're not going to be able to go out on deck all weekend don't you? I said "yes, I know, I need to move". I lowered the dinghy, put the motor on it all the while watching this guy with his head about to explode watching me. I motored over and apologized to him and told him that I was moving. He took the entire affair like a gentleman and I could see his head shrinking as we spoke. After a few minutes of conversation I sulked back and moved my boat around the point to a "not so bad spot" he had reminded me of. I like to think that it like it was the "perfect storm". I was tired, I had a really bad week at work, he was in my spot and I screwed up and stubbornly dropped my anchor where I knew I should't. In my defense, over the years, I've managed to keep those times to a minimum. In fact, that's the only one that I can remember so I guess that's a good thing?