9. July 2009, Pirate's Cove, De Courcy Island

No photos until I get back to wifi civilization....
It had to happen sooner or later. Today, when ebb turned to flood, i.e. lowest water around, a large sailing yacht called FURY, from Portland, with an 8 foot draft, tried to get into the cove. The entrance has - per chart - a 2 foot clearance at 'chart datum'. Timed right, low tide may give a little more - today low water gave 5 feet.
With moving objects hitting stationary ones, we saw predictable results...the yacht came to a sudden stop and sat there, blocking the narrow passage. She did not heel over - thanks to their good luck!
Some of us rowed out to console the unfortunate skipper, who played 'cool' and kept watching eagles through his binoculars, mostly ignoring us samaritans. Ok, we all rowed away again - no help wanted.
Well, tide was rising, so he should float free after some time - and he did.
One of the boaters here asked him, whether he had followed the markers into the entrance, and he responded: 'What markers'.
No further comment.
He is now anchored inside.
The Department of Fisheries and Oceans motored into the Cove to put up notices about closure of shellfish harvesting (people dumping their waste into the cove inadvertently feed those little clams and oysters with lots of e-coli; it argrees with them). They also removed the weeds from my prop. Two guys laid on their bellies and poked their and my boat hooks into the offending area. It looked as if they carried side arms and I was afraid that with all the wiggling on the ground, they may accidentally trigger one of those things. Ah, what pleasure to have knights in shining uniform help a old maiden in distress! The weeds are gone.
I watched a pair of racoons fight with a pair of bald headed eagles over the same prey, which the former hd dug out on the shore. Whoever flew, walked away with the prize is unknown, but they sure made a racket.
Walking the trail today, I noticed that a giant pine/fir tree had breathed it's last overnight....the trunk had broken, and lay across the path. Humongous - obviously rotten to the core, but the few strands of live wood that held it together up to now, filled the air with delicious aroma of fresh pine. The crown and heavy branches had crashed towards the shore, stripping and bending a few other trees in their pass. Glad it happened overnight, when the path was deserted, and not when a bunch of people scamper around.
Does a tree makes noise when it falls, and there is no one in the forest to hear it?