An Almost Full Moon

26 August, Day Seven

Malone Bay

An almost full moon has risen. There is still substantial twilight in the sky, although the Menagerie Island lighthouse tower has become a dark silhouette, no longer lit by the setting sun. I have been watching carefully for the first lighthouse flash; it flashes every 6 seconds across the bay from sunset until dawn. I can see it from my sleeping bag; an embodiment of generations of isolation and attentiveness for the purpose of guiding ships to safety. I have never slept better.

I myself am a small ship – one with a motivated engine. The breeze seems to be picking up and shifting to the south. Like all sailors whose lives depend on the direction and strength of wind, I am acutely aware of changes.

Sea state is an on-going occupation of my imagination; and definitely scarier when I am on shore. I imagine huge waves, capsize, and impossible landings. On the water I know that conditions are within my ability. On exposed water I keep three things at hand: negligible probably of capsize; high probability of re-entry; and continuous assessment of potential landing options. I also start early, pay careful attention to food and hydration, and stop before exhaustion.

This is the time for last minute tasks requiring light. The canteen is full and by my pillow. I’ve arranged extra clothing to pad my hips against the wooden shelter floor. I am extremely pleased to have found the crystallized ginger, my favorite treat before brushing my teeth and bed.