Boats and banners
Four days into the camping experience, the committment is made. Paid. There is now a date of expiration on my permit. It took time to get the calendar to agree with the wants of our party, but I can lay my head to rest knowing there won’t be a knock on the tent door with an eviction notice.
Another meal in another place: this time, we went west to Naufrage to the Shipwreck Point Cafe. I’ve been here before; dependable quality for a strapped wallet. We were in and out in an hour, with some local fiction to add to the bookshelf.
All along the North Side, there are lanes that lead to the shore. No route numbers. Catchy names like Shore Road. Little chance of getting lost for more than an hour, and that includes time spent woolgathering on the shore, watching what the wife calls “sheep” out on the water. Windy day amusement.
After a tour of the Turret Bell Road, we stopped in St Peter’s Bay to watch kite ski action on the water. Fast! Scary fast! Inside the boutique row, there was a wall display devoted to the actual Turret Bell, which went down in the same gale that ruined a sailing day for the Olga, Orpheus, Sovinto and others. In this case, the ship didn’t go down (far), and there are photos of her sitting on the shoreline. Shades of the George N. Orr (another Island wreck that I had the luck to dive years ago). There is nothing but the named road to help people remember life before the “big bridge”.
Ferries do cross to the Island, and somebody got engaged, over the weekend. The boy asked the girl to go on deck and watch the other boat pass. The banner said it all: “Will you marry me?”
