08 Aug No Room At The Inn
No Room At The Inn
Inside Montague Habour is packed to overflowing. Outside, not so much. Seaburban, smelling the barn, is pointed directly at Gabriola and home. The weather is set to change for tomorrow with cloud, Southeasterlies, and rain in the forecast. I’m guessing we’ll see no such thing given this evening’s sunset.
Old habits die hard and I couldn’t resist dragging the sextant out and measuring the distance between Jupiter and the Moon to estimate my watch error. I felt a little foolish waving the sextant around anchored 100 meters from shore but it seemed such a perfect opportunity. Working the site on a perfectly flat, unmoving chart table felt like cheating.
After all was said and done, I was pretty sure I was right where I was supposed to be, when I was supposed to be.
Home never looked so good.
Follow my tracks in real-time: