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Good news and bad news: The steak was still fine and made a great meal along with Chef Doug’s pasta with tomato sauce (above) but the cream which still smelled fine, had solidified and would not pour from the carton. It was consigned to the deep. Also Alan had discovered an abundance of what he said was poison ivy (below) right along our patch of shore.
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After supper we had nice evening light for portraits: Doug Gilchrist (above left) and Uncle Al (right), and Bill and Judy Burton (below).
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While David (above left) writes up his log for UKWA consumption from the comfort of a Burton easy chair (arms cut down to permit stowing in back tank!!!!), his helm, Dick, looks on - as does one frog. But it’s all too much for the gulls who look away in disgust (below).
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And so the evening went on quietly. Al put up the tent on Whirlwind while Doug did the dishes. Despite our total shelter from the westerly breeze and the warm temperatures there were very few bugs... someone said that it was the masses of dragonflies which eat the mosquitoes. There seemed little need for the turtleneck and sweat pants that I was wearing......
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But then the sun went down and all good dragonflies went to bed. And the mosquitoes and other winged war machines came out in droves. Within minutes, the social evening was shattered, as we dove for our tents. Even the two minutes I spent on the bow adjusting the anchor line were close to torture! Thank God Doug had discovered my anchor faux pas earlier! 

After a few minutes of swatting everything that flew inside the tent, I had some idea of the meaning of those famous pirate story words: “The scuppers were awash in blood!” except that in our case it was the deck and the coaming.

Apart from the occasional smack from our or a neighboring boat, Doug and I enjoyed a quiet evening: We listened to Roger Clemens pitch yet another shutout (4-0) over the Cleveland Indians and then sampled some talk shows but couldn’t find the Chicago host we’d found the previous night who had actually been polite and reasonable yet most interesting.

Before going to sleep we tried to add our little chapter to the history of folk medicine: We tried driving the bugs out with alcohol fumes and cigarette smoke. In fact, Doug claims he really didn’t sleep more than an hour or two due to continuing bug depredations, but the two or three times I woke up, Doug was snoring, so... And even at 4 a.m. when nature’s insistence became too strong for my bladder, there were still lots of bugs out there. 

I think it may have been at about this time that I quietly turned on the radio to get the weather and heard: “Winds SW to 30 km.” And suddenly, there it was: the idea!

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Tues 5 Aug 97
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