It appears there is moss growing on my boat, or something of the sort. It has been a little damp lately due to the fact that it has not stopped raining for weeks. If it is any sort of green vegetation growth, I ignore it or throw it in the ocean. If it is white or black then I get the spritzer bottle of vinegar. That usually holds it off for a while and does not harm the woodwork on the interior of my boat.

All clothes have been removed from the boat, even if they are clean they still get damp and collect mold depending on the type of fabric. The only food kept on the boat is a random assortment of rusty canned goods and a few other things in airtight containers. Even when I am hungry, I don’t really cook because it’s a hassle. If I am feeling a little faint and coffee does not do the trick then I open a rusty can of beans.

Henry Cove has been quite lonely lately. The ferry boats have not been running the last couple of days due to the enormous surf and small craft advisories. There is not too much high wind but there is most definitely a weather cell of some sort off-shore because the rollers are pretty impressive. Fortunately, Schoodic Point breaks them down a little, however they are still big when they get to the Lonely Cove. Rowing Little G is a bit difficult at times. Of course I do not want to sit down on a wet seat so I pretend the dinghy is a stand up paddle board and I very slowly make my way ashore while focusing diligently on balance.

None of the locals have put their boats in yet and Big G is still the lone sailboat in the cove.  If I had to venture a guess I would probably say it is due to the weather, although some of the locals might not like the changes at the marina and might have gone elsewhere. I also observed a local casing my car in the parking lot as I was walking up the dock. He made up a bogus excuse when I confronted him and later learned he is a felon and has been arrested recently for having a fire arm. I see him at the marina on a regular basis.

I was happy to see Mr. Hibbard’s dinghy at the dock. Mr. Hibbard is a scruffy looking man, with a large beer gut, long gray beard, few teeth and sports the bandanna pretty well. He is a Harley Davidson enthusiast and has some pretty great stories of his days as a trucker. Mr. Hibbard is not a man you want to cross, he has drawn his gun on me late at night when I am rowing Little G to my boat. “That you, Benton!” he yells “Ok, just checking” then I hear him de-cocking his gun.  During happy hour, Mr. Hibbard and Carolynne always invite me onto their cabin cruiser for wine and cheese. After a few stories and some wine I stumble onto Little G and find my way back to Big G. It is nice to have someone keeping an eye on things. I am a supporter of due process of the law and Mr. Hibbard is an adventurous old man with nothing too lose and lots of guns. Someone you definitely want to stay on good terms with.




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