I woke up bright and fine after a terrific rest. Having surveyed the forest last night, I knew a nitrogen drop off was doable. The rich loamy sand of the forest floor had a dense root mat. I found a deep pocket of forest far from any trail, scrapped off the duff, opened the mat and dug a hole about 6″ deep. I emptied the poopamatic into the hole, replaced the soil, mat and lastly the duff.
Returning to the boat I crawled back into the tent until the sun climbed over the dune and made it feel like the inside of a light bulb. Before packing, repairs.
A cargo bracket had slipped out and had to be reseated. In the process of tightening I broke a buckle and had to replace it from spares. I sat down with the tiller extender in the shade and slowly worked it open. Wading into the waves with it, I coaxed it open and closed until all the sand was flushed out. Now it’s good as new.
I started getting ready and got as far as rigging the mainsail when the uphaul came untied and flew up the mast and out of reach. My options were either to shimmy up a 25 ft slick aluminum mast, drop the mast or tip the boat on it’s side. Option 3 was my choice and I eventually was able to get the needed leverage by hanging both dry bags and the anchor bags from the wire. She came over like a dream and back to upright without a hitch. By the time I was off the beach and into the big curlers it was 1:30 pm.
I has slept just a couple miles from the Cook nuclear plant, and I passed it sailing sw in a west wind. The wind tapered from a stiff blow to a whimper by 4:30, leaving me stranded in front of New Buffalo. A couple in a largish monohull helpfully told me where I was. They eventually gave up on the wind and motored in. I eventually followed powered by paddle and the occasional puff. On the way in I recovered a mighty blue plastic container which Mike and his family claimed for a recycling bin.
I supped at the Brewster, a stellar Italian restaurant. Before commiting to the Brewster, I confirmed my plan with the locals at the open til midnight boatshop. That’s where I bought my very own Thirsty Mate like the one Tim Cook had loaned me in Grand Haven. I still haven’t tried the sealant Mark and Marilyn gave me.
I’d like to say the evening was pleasant but I’d be lying. It was very blowy back at the boat but I pitched the tent on the tramp anyway and tried to sleep. I was up at 2:00 am and then again at 3:00 am with incredible night sweats, I think I might be getting sick. The waves were getting louder and the wind was giving the tent a fascinating geometry. I stuck my hand out and into the sand, it was wet! Waves were getting closer.
I offloaded the boat in the moonlight and dragged her to higher ground. I wrapped myself in a tarp behind the gear pile and crashed. I eventually added a sleeping bag to this arrangement to keep from freezing and enjoyed 2-3 hours of blissful unconsciousness. Now for a quick grocery run then vamos.