As the sun set and the moon rose over a balmy Stinson Beach last Tuesday, Logan Walker, captain of the Chandalar, hung from the mast of the 33-foot beached vessel, dressed in scuba gear as he tied lines to the spreader. He and his newfound crew—a mix of locals and inspired visitors from over the hill—were planning a grand escape at high tide at 11 p.m. 

Louis Tenwinkle, a mariner from Richardson Bay who owns the Thing, a seasoned recovery vessel, arrived just after sunset and anchored the former Coast Guard lifeboat past the break until the tide came in. 

As darkness fell, the crowd grew. The plan was to drag the boat off the beach with a rope attached to the stern, then tow it back to a port in southern Marin where a shipwright had offered to work on it at a discounted rate. Spirits were high, but bedlam ensued over the next three hours as a horde of people tried unsuccessfully to tug the vessel back into the water. 

It was nightfall when two people manning the Chandalar’s skiff fed the line from the sailboat to the Thing. On its way back to shore, the skiff capsized. But the plan moved ahead. Once the lines were tied firmly to each boat, Mr. Tenwinkle pushed the throttle. As the lifeboat’s engine roared, water surrounded the Chandalar, causing it to creak and grunt like a bear coming out of hibernation. The noise was met with gasps and cheers.

“Stand back!” Mr. Walker yelled from the deck. Just then, the line from the lifeboat snapped, its sound echoing down the beach. But not all was lost. 

Stinson Beach resident John Cummins, who witnessed the Chandalar hit the shore one month earlier, appeared in a wetsuit, a surfboard under his arm. He paddled his way toward the lifeboat, bringing a new line. But the tow lines kept snapping and large waves threatened to beach the Thing.

Richard James, an Inverness resident who closely tracks stranded vessels and marine debris along this stretch of coast, was working with a shovel to dig trenches around the hull. He compared the scene to a passage from Tom Wolfe’s “Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test”—a comparison bolstered by the presence of part-time Seadrift resident Bob Weir, who had met Mr. Walker on his second day ashore. 

Spry at age 75, Mr. Weir seemed to be the most optimistic of the group. “The next hour is when we need the most pull,” he said. “That’s the best chance we have of getting it out.”

Dressed in clam diggers and wearing a black amulet, Mr. Weir stood pondering in the rough surf. The partially retired musician had developed a soft spot for the vessel and its hard-driving captain, saying he couldn’t bear seeing the Chandalar destroyed. It would be too heartbreaking. 

On July 31, Mr. Walker, a union carpenter from Washington who lives aboard his boat, set sail from Richardson Bay on his way to Seattle. Around noon that day, after he dozed off with the Chandalar on autopilot, he was startled awake by shouting as he crashed into the shore. It was the highest tide of July, and Mr. Walker has been waiting until August’s highest tide to free the boat. He has been living on Upton Beach, the county-owned beach just north of Stinson Beach, for more than a month. 

Despite last Tuesday’s small victories, the incoming tide deposited sand back into the trenches that volunteers had dug, further burying the hull. Mr. Tenwinkle vowed to keep trying until the boat was freed, and the gameplan evolved throughout the week. 

On Saturday night, the plan involved San Rafael resident Alex Dzuro and a pulley system he devised that was tied to the bow of the Chandalar, affixed to the anchor and routed to the Thing. But the pulley, reaching full tension, became tangled shortly after the line reached the boat. Mr. Dzuro eventually freed the knot with a knife, sending rope and metal blocks flying in every direction. 

After the system was rerigged, Mr. Tenwinkle was able to tilt and turn the Chandalar so the mast pointed toward the sea, while the bow pointed northwest. But as the lifeboat continued to pull, the bow end of the Chandalar was violently ripped off. The crew retired for the night at around 2 a.m.

Sunday brought big crowds to a foggy Stinson Beach, halting any progress on the rescue effort. Throngs of tourists visited the Chandalar, some climbing inside and others taking videos or laughing as Mr. Walker continued to work on his boat. A group of teenagers expressed their disapproval at the presence of the boat, whose anchor line they blamed for disrupting their surfing. 

Midday on Labor Day, the Thing was back on the scene, ready to give it another go. A crowd of 25 tugged on a line connected to the stern and a few people tugged the mast while Mr. Tenwinkle pulled from the bow. The Chandalar was spun another 90 degrees and was starting to budge offshore, said Stinson Beach resident Djuna Bewley. But the line fouled the lifeboat’s propeller, leaving it disabled and vulnerable to the heavy surf. The Thing was pushed up onto the beach alongside the Chandalar, and as the crowds left, the two boats sat together beneath the sunset. The crew is still committed to getting both boats back to sea, Ms. Bewley said. 

Last month, a deputy cited Mr. Walker for three misdemeanors related to improper garbage disposal, erecting structures in a park and leaving property unattended within the park for an extended period. Mr. Walker was served a letter of abatement saying his boat would be destroyed if it wasn’t back in the water by the end of August. 

But last week, a federal judge granted Mr. Walker a temporary restraining order against the Marin County Sheriff’s Office. He is seeking a preliminary injunction that would remain in effect until a final decision is reached in his case, which he filed in federal court because it involves a civil rights claim.

“We need to make sure the sheriffs are acting respectfully,” said Robbie Powelson, a member of the Marin Civil Homeless Union who has been assisting Mr. Walker in his legal efforts. “We can’t let them crush this boat—not in our county.”

Patrick Butler of Parker Diving Service in Sausalito, which salvages beached ships in Marin, acted as a witness in the responsefrom the sheriff’s office to the restraining order request. He said the Chandalar posed a challenging situation for his service, which would be unnable to return it to sea.

“It’s extremely high up and Stinson Beach is pretty shallow,” said Maria Nunn, a salvage coordinator for the service. “It would need to be dragged a long way by a vessel with more horsepower than ours, and we’re not sure the hull could withstand being pulled that far. Most insurance companies, including ours, may not take the risk of it sinking while being dragged back to sea.”

Mr. Walker is set to appear in court in San Francisco today, when a judge will consider his request for a preliminary
injunction.