We’re anchored in Peck Lake. It’s not really a lake. It’s more like a wide spot in the Hobe Sound at the north end of a wildlife refuge. We took the dinghy to the skinny barrier island and beached it. Then followed a path through the mangrove thicket to find our own private beach full of shells and peace. The ocean is a lovely shade of turquoise here.
I went shell seeking while Mike spent time hunting with his metal detector. There’s an old saying ‘One man’s trash will one day be found be some poor dude with a metal detector.’ It was a very nice afternoon.
We left Fort Pierce mid–morning after a not too shocking loss in the Bird Wars. Mike really hates to have the birds on our boat because they poop all over it. So, he spent the last few days chasing them away. He really seemed to be enjoying it. He went so far as to shoo them away from the railings on the dock ramp over on shore, no where near the boat. Well, whoever coined the word ’birdbrain’ and decided it meant stupid doesn’t know these birds. Sail bag, splat. Deck, splat, splat, splat. Brand new solar panels, splat, splat, splat. Mike did his Cinderella imitation with a bucket, brush and sponge – cleaning the boat as we drove away. Birds 10: Mike 2
There’s an Aesop fable about a Fox and Mosquitos that comes to mind. Also, theres the adage that lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice. Now we have, it’s better to let the bird who is empty remain on your boat than stir up his loaded brethren.
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