A short sail to nowhere
As of this afternoon, there are no hurricanes inbound. I want that recorded, in case I try to plan a quick trip down into the tropics. The reality is that we can’t go away, right now; our own personal hurricanes are inbound, but in a couple of weeks we could just latch the door and let the compass dictate a destination.
My own preference? Newfoundland, again. Haven’t been there in some years. I want the opportunity to catch the tail end of a big storm. Stand on a cliff, watching the Atlantic roll in. My standard of bravery. Who knows? If I bring a radio along, I could let the world know about the fierce nature of the winds.
Went shopping for a “few groceries”, as we say. The peach basket season has ended, abruptly. I’m back to getting my vitamins from a bag of grapes, interspersed with oversize bananas.
Our visitor from NS headed back home, this morning. What seemed like a simple trip had a strange turn: the ferry was fully loaded, when a mechanical problem forced the call. Disembark. And so they did, the whole gang. Since reservations take precedence (they pay more, essentially), the next boatload was chosen from people who arrived for a later crossing, and the friend had to go the long way around (via the bridge). Saved a few dollars, spent a few more hours on the road. Particularly after following the GPS and circling the Tantramar region. Been there, got the certificate. Could it be that the Garmins of the world don’t eat their own dogfood?
