We packed a lunch and drove the dingy out Sisters Creek, through the mangroves, to Sombrero Beach. There is a small dingy beach just inside the ocean cut where we landed, stripped the dingy and flipped it over to scrape and brush away the saltwater flora and fauna that had made a home on the bottom of our dingy during the past two weeks.
De Anne hard at work:
I napped in the shade of a palm tree while De Anne strolled the beach. After her return I watched a fisherman land and very carefully unhook a two foot shark. Sneaking back to our palm tree - not too difficult in sand - I caught De Anne in a rare moment of calm repose:
We returned to the boat in early afternoon and made a trip to the marina for showers. With the mooring all boats get an access card for the restrooms. There are about a dozen individual bathrooms. You slide the card, open the door slowly so you can shut it quick if someone screams or worse, invites you in to wash their back, although most folks remember to throw the dead bolt once inside rendering the card useless for that door.
We ran into Peter who had just flown back from a long weekend in Trinidad and made plans to go to the Hurricane for dinner. Tut, a local mooring field resident, had alerted us to dollar taco night so the four of us had a fun evening at the local watering hole.
The wind has finally calmed down so our evening dingy ride back to the boat was our first one in days that did not end with "dingy bottom". This is a condition where powering through choppy water leaves you with a saltwater rinse by the time you return home.
We read for a while and called it a night, retiring to our gently rocking berth.
It's hard to call this a typical day because there is always something different going on or chores to do but it is usually relaxed and free-flowing whenever we are docked, moored, or anchored in a safe place like Marathon.
Sister Creek is a little wider than the Indiana version of creeks:
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