Sunday, July 30, 2017

The Fog Log 2017

AHOY Intrepid READERS

I went sailing which included some camping, which means friends and beaches and dinners, and this time it meant a hearty dose of that Maine Classic-- da FOG!  BWAAAAAAAAA

Blow 'em horns if you got 'em.

BWWWAAAAAAAA

Cap'n Jon sails into the first beach WITH NEW HEADSAIL!
He fast now! Check out that fast bowwave, it serious!


ROMANTIC BEACH TIMES
we hold hands and tell stories and call each other "CHAP"

I had to swear that I wasn't going to post this picture. The Commodore in his "new" tent! 
Tres Chic! "Hey! You kids!"
I will save you the trouble, you can see the difference between his new tent and his old tent here!
No more fenders... I guess? And blue.


With Chef Juan absent, Chef Jon has to make us Montreal Rub Steak Tips
on the aforementioned ROMANTIC BEACH.
MEEEAAAATTT

The last we see of a good friend for many days...

A taste of what is to come.  It seemed dramatic and cool at the moment.

The fog rolls in from the south.  The Commodore inspects this beach as I walk the meadows.
Many invasive plants- like decorative prickers that will soon making walking this meadow
impossibly annoying.

Light winds, a little sun, we make quick for our next island camping desination.

The south facing beach generated enough head to keep us in an island of sun in an ocean of fog.
We dried our sleeping gear, which was a good idea.

In the evening, the fog rolled in and wiped our sunny sanctuary into oblivion.

Rowing to Brooklin we watch islands materialize out of the mists
and disappear again off our sterns.


HERE WE RUN INTO SOMEONE FAMOUS.  We chat about the fog and continue on.

The fog makes the 21st century a mirage in our memories.
For a moment we enter the portals of time and see the world as it was.


Sausage Brian gets a dose of mist mixed with his cup of rowing.

This is a good time to contemplate mortality, philosophy, and the point of it all.
We row endlessly into the fog.
Solitary points in our own small universes.

Night time fog! Everything is wet and cold and clammy.
Can't wait to crawl into that sleeping bag!
I do say, CHAP! That fog is sure a good diversion!