One More Sleep
2032
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One More Sleep

One More Sleep

One More Sleep

My old stomping grounds. Blackberry Point. Alex and Kathryn took the dinghy to the tiny island just visible in left center only to be shewed away by a blizzard of no trespassing signs. More recently, the Pirate King terrorized some kayakers hoping to top up on drinking water by  brandishing a boat hook in an unfriendly manner before dropping it over the side and, after raising his eye patch, asking sheepishly if they could retrieve it before I discovered it adrift.

I like this place. It is familiar and even though it’s the start of a long weekend, there’s only a handful of campers on the beach and no one else anchored. I can see Gabriola. A neat, distinct purple smudge to the North.

Tomorrow at 11am sharp I’ll make my way into Silva Bay and soon after tie up next to Sea Mist. Where have all the months gone? It seems a dream, the stuff of make believe and school yard bravado. Even the globe marked painstakingly with my noon positions by my father seems unreal.

Tomorrow, with Seaburban tucked into her slip and me into my bed, I will be home.

Follow my tracks in real-time:
https://bit.ly/svseaburban