|"So, how does this whole "sailing" thing work, anyway?"|
"Dude I already turned off the engine"
"Dude you're luffing."
"Dude, you're driving."
We anchored at White Gulch and I went for a row. Pretty evening. Pretty rocks. Elk. Kelp. Quiet.
Upon return to Amable, I discovered the inevitable consequence of leaving the boys alone aboard for 2 hours: out of beer. This "emergency" necessitated a full steam run to Inverness, the last potentially open store on the bay, all the way at the far other end.
The shallow water made Sila slow down at sunset. I didn't capture the thousands of pulsing jellyfish here. Their bells softly touched the surface of the water without making any ripples. I hate to drive through them or put my oars into the water in fear of sweeping them up too roughly.
As the designated beer buyer (that's biatch to those of you watching at home), I rowed in past the Inverness Yacht club, found some hippies, walked to town through thickets of poison oak barefoot in the gathering dark, found the store closed, and begged (BEGGED!) a 12-pack of Heineken from the Czech guy who runs the restaurant, at wildly inflated prices. I can't even say how much I paid him, it's too embarrassing, but since he clearly wasn't going to do another sale that night and it wasn't exactly legal, I let it go. Hiked back through the woods and rowed out in the now VERY DARK to the deeper water where I thought Amable was eagerly awaiting me!
Duress increasing, I rowed circles around every anchored boat I could see - seemed to take hours - (no I don't have a watch) and couldn't find them. I started wondering if they had left me! Seemed incredible but no sign of the boat. Finally, exhausted, I rowed in toward the Golden Hinde where there appeared to be some kind of social activity going on. As I got closer, I could make out one boat tied up to the visitors dock, the mast slowly emerging from the sea of masts in the yacht basin behind. A very familiar boat, with no lights on....