I definitely prefer mud to hard rocky bottoms and thankfully mud is what we are promised for tomorrow tonight. In fact that's most of the reason for going to Barclay Bught. Deep, yielding, sticky, stinky mud. That glutinous glump that swallows the anchor and refuses to let it go.
All Greenland needs to make it perfect is a few trillion tons of lovely estuarine mud poured over those slippery, untrustworthy, polished rocks that it has chosen for its most delectable anchorages. Then I could sleep easier rather fretting and fidgeting at every turn and rise of the wind.
Let's hope Mr Barclay was right about his bottom and that our anchor slips in and stays in to give us a restful, less fretful, night before our passage back to Iceland.