Awful nice nights up here. Quiet. No bugs. Well, none that get through the tulle.
Came around a bend in Georgiana and WHAT? There were sister yachts anchored in my parking space.
Well I wanted to park here, too. Can't be harder than parallel parking in Manhattan, right?
So I anchored w my plow bow out , tried to back into shore w my danforth but it wasn't catching. Everybody from both yachts had front row seats to the free entertainment. Fella came over in his dinghy, offered to help, I asked him where he was from.
"RYC", he said, anchor in hand.
"Me, too." said I.
"What? Wait", he was puzzled.
"My slip is on E Dock" I explained. "Way out there."
"Oh," he understood then how we had missed meeting. There are docks and then there are docks.
Here's a photo of Steve and Connie Hill's Soiree. They had me to dinner, served two kinds of cheese, salad and ... wait for it ... steak!!! Seriously wonderful!
Gary Troxel dug that danforth into the mud so well I had to jump in the water this morning in order to pull it out. My anchor hero.