6. July 2009

As a last chore yesterday, I took the dinghy to Millie's stern to check the rudder - remembering a disturbing cracking sound I heard when I had cruised over here. I found and removed parts of a tree branch, that had wedged itself between rudder and hull. The prop must have acted like a garburator (the noise certainly sounded similar).
This morning I donned two pairs of socks and a couple of woollen sweaters and a vest. Bit of a change from the pleasantly hot and sunny weather. Starting my journey to Pirate's Cove, it blew 20-25 knots (from the stern luckily), it rained intermittently, and I encountered some respectable waves, which made the boat roll from side to side for the first couple of hours of my cruise. For the last couple of hours, I needed to slow down the boat to arrive when the tide would be high enough. The entrance is described as 'tricky', even when given enough depth.
The rain had stopped when I arrived, one could easily see the navigation aids (an arrow on a rock and a white cross on a tree, as well as a beacon on a reef, and a buoy on a shoal) and I managed to tie up to a reserved dock without any problem. Something else had wrapped itself around the prop this time around, I could see. Well, there is time to untangle that...
I experienced a somewhat strange welcome: looking at me defiantly, a couple of young gentlemen had their pants down and were peeing from the swimladder of their power cruiser, shaking their whoopwhoops, maybe expecting a shocked response?
A few boats had stern-tied to rings strategically placed onto rocks on the shore, some had used trees for the purpose (not allowed), and soon the Cove filled with the aroma of burnt flesh, as BBQ's were fired up for dinner.
I went for a walk ashore...following the footsteps of Brother XII.
But that is another story...to be continued.