Yeah, it was a bit nippy. Air temp in the upper 30s but it was the puffs to 35 that made it slightly less comfortable. Peak gust at Gibson Island was 43.
Around the point, I had to convince 12-15 turkey vultures that I wasn't dead. I don't think I've ever elicited such a warm response from buzzards and from such a large flock...assuming buzzards flock . I guess they were just desparate.
[Edit: a group of buzzards in-flight is called a "kettle" of buzzards]
These winter low tides expose a lot of neat stuff, like this ancient pier hardware that made a nifty "kayak slip" in which to eat lunch. Folks at PSA know a lot more about this than I do, but apparently the structure is from an old alum mine (google: alum) and it's noted in an 1829 issue of American as probably being owned by Richard Caton. Anyway, thanks to the folks 200 years ago for setting up a pleasant, sunny and wind-protected lunch spot!
Also: almost got my remore bilge leak detector working...almost.




