7:24 AM. Moon set from the dock
Sunrise, the other direction. More behind the pines than visible.
Low tide means feeding time.
More color in the eastern sky
Supervivid setting does wonders.
If not for the no see 'ums could have stayed outside longer
Or, until breakfast.
Bike ride into town, 1.5 miles, to pick up a few things and scout out the Seafood Festival.
Above is not an "offical' part of pat of the Festival. Riding the coattails. As did half the homes in town, or so it seemed. Offering parking, and, or yard sales.
Artsy fartsy part of the Festival.
Seafood part of Seafood Festival
Osprey on the water tower.
The landlord told me one of their properties on Airport Road had a nice sloping area for kayaking launching. We were welcome to use it.
Did not find it, but I know I passed it. Unlike the Cardwell Cottage, Islands 11 does not have a cutesy sign in front.
Private, neighbor hood ramp own the street from the cottage. The cottage does not have access.
Tide came in, so we had access from the cottage. Getting in from the rock lined shore. Rocks added, not part of the natural shoreline.
The same management company that we rented the Cardwell Cottage, rents the Point Cottage-the green octagon. 3 bedrooms, $179.00, a night. I need one more friend. Or, two, when Stephanie leaves.
Saturday was white pelican day
Three groups just past the Number 3 Bridge Next stop, Scale Key.
Would an eagle be in the tall pines?
Yes
Cormorant/with/fish.
We were equipped with walkie-talkies, and were far apart, each on their own voyage. Stephanie hailed me, asking where to go next. I did not know, eventually, deciding to go back where we went Friday. I radioed Stephanie, and we turned around. She was ahead, and got further ahead. I lost sight of her past the Number 3 Bridge. I was thinking 3 things happened. One, she misunderstood my last hail, and headed back to the cottage. Two, she heard, understood, and was on course. Three, she made a wrong turn, an was lost in a mangrove maze.
She, of course, did, number 2. The right thing. I thought I would go to the cottage first. If she were not there, I'd catch up to her, or catch her on the way back. Assuming she did not do Number 3. Which she is too smart for. Going to the cottage allowed me to see the great egret above, but no Stephanie. Long out of walkie talkie range
At the Number 2 bridge, I asked a couple on a dock if they had seen a green kayak go by. They had. I radioed Stephanie, no response.
Just the prow of the the wreck above the waterline in the Number 2 Channel. An opportunity to look for roosting spoonbills, and more. But, I had a friend to find.
In our last communication, I had said, "Maybe land and check out the Seafood Festival' So, towards it I paddled.
A green kayak on shore! Alas, not a Pungo. I headed back.
Willets
Curlew. Back at the cottage, the Pungo was ashore. I landed, dragging the kayak through the mud and reeds on the left side of the dock. Stephanie was inside. Getting in was an adventure, as she did not have a key. On the water, at the wreck, she paddled past, saw the Number 3 Bridge, and paddled towards it, and the cottage.
Adventures exchanged, we drove into town. Showing off the highlights, stopping at Sandy's Produce for mahi and boiled peanuts. No Cannon's Honey. This Cannon is looking for a honey. Just friends with my kayaking cottage mate. Who insisted I try boiled peanuts. Give me Planters. Scouted out sunset spots.
"Home" to keep the fish cool and prep dinner. I stayed out of the way, on "our" dock.
Drove back into town. Sunset from the Number 1 bridge.
Stroll to the Big Dock
Out of focus supper. Squash, rice, mahi. So ends Saturday.
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