Day 26 – Brooklyn

I slept extremely poorly, probably due to the malt liquor, and did not emerge from the v-berth until noon. It was raining lightly, but the high winds we expected from the passing storm were totally absent. We walked to the grocery store in Liverpool and tied Caly up where she could duck out of the increasing rain. She either failed to recognize the possibility or simply opted to stay in the elements, and further did her best to appear cute and sad, which concerned a large number of patrons and employees. Through the front window we saw a man hold his rain jacket over her, despite the fact that she was already wearing her own. As we walked back one lady from the store pulled over to offer us a ride, which we politely declined. Our condition couldn’t worsen, we were already fully saturated.

It was a quiet day, and as we discussed how far we might go up the coast, the Bras D’or lakes started to feel too distant. This was what I had imagined would be our ultimate destination, and changing that seemed to change the idea of the trip somehow. At the very least I’d have to refer to it differently in the future. We were concerned about the weather, which typically gets worse in the fall; we had previously agreed not to push our return to Maine’s protected coastline much beyond September 1st.

This rainy day and the absence of a tiller to hold, sails to trim, or further errands to run, left my thoughts more introspective. I called my parents from the marina’s clubhouse and took a much needed warm shower. I laid awake in my berth, and started wondering what, now, was periodically hitting the hull and disturbing the quiet. Wandering around above deck by headlamp I found one of the spring lines was catching on a bumper and snapping taught against the hull when the right breeze pushed Isla forward. We made bacon cheeseburgers for dinner, firing up the grill at the tail end of the day’s rain.