I almost didn't get out. At the end of the day sometimes, it seems like a lot of effort to get ready and go. The previous two beautiful evenings, I'd lamented that I'd had to spend them in meetings. Now I had an evening free, but I was tired. That first wee dram of scotch was nice, and a second would be nicer. Spiderman III beckoned from the Opera House. The sirens, it seems, are here on land, and their song isn't always so pretty. I tore myself away and launched by six.
Amazingly, I had to wait in line to get to the ramp. A forklift drove off a ferry, and the ferry pulled away. A runabout was launched from a trailer. While I waited, I chatted with a local man, who fishes out of Sylvester Cove. He mentioned how difficult it can be to see kayaks, and wondered why we didn't all have bicycle flags mounted on tall fiberglass rods flying from our boats. I told him it might not be a bad idea, and that I'd seen kayaks do this, but it might be a problem when you flip over. (I didn't mention wind resistence or just the plain silliness of flying a tall flag from our sleek little boats). I told him I'd become much better at guessing what a lobster boat will do, though, and he seemed to accept this.
The water and air were calm and warmer (low 50's now). As I went around Sand Island, a couple of eagles watched me from a rock, and took off when I pointed my camera at them. They are huge birds. I went out past John and Farrell and paused near Sparrow Island. Since there were so many seals, I kept my distance.
I went on past West Halibut Ledges, on out to Scraggy Ledge and over to Ram Island. I watched the sun set over the Camden Hills as I paddled back toward George's Head, the lights of Stonington winking on as I approached. I turned on my headlamp and lights for the last couple of miles, arriving in town in the dark. Back at the gallery, Rebecca worked on her hatches.