The amount of chatter suggested there would be a good turnout today. While the forecast wind raised the spectre of Plan B, it was never enacted. Instead we shared a beautiful blue day with many sail boats. Even Mick managed put on a tasty performance and had not succumbed to water bruise.
Fourteen kayaks took a pew on the beach as we watched with interest the approach of unidentified craft under sail. Turns out this was who Brian knows as the "Churchie" group. They
had paddled from Manly. Dave, who was in a double, came for a chat and to find out who our congregation was related too. "Just friends" was the reply much to his apparent surprise as his "friends" amounted to three other kayaks.
Plan B was still hovering on a steady breeze so it was decided to paddle to off King Island, suck it and see. That took us on to Green Island for morning tea. The SW generated a tidy little swell which just had to be ridden. So off on my pat malone I was
having a nice little quiet time a fair way off from the group until something struck the rear of my boat. First thought was "what has bitten my boat". Second thought "it is a
long way from where I am sitting so I can have a look". I turned around to find a Marlin hitched up in my decklines. The sneaky attempt to frighten the daylights out of me was thwarted by a realistic, "oh shit but was is it" approach.
Green was approached on a falling tide exposing the mudlflat strewn with coral rubble. Not a good feel in kevlar socks - really miss those Teva sandals. Someone else might be
enjoying them now. Whenever you paddle with Carol and Ted there is a high probability of something to have with your tea or coffee. A fact clearly lost on Dean as he made his tea in self imposed exile on the end of the spit. We willingly consumed the apple and raspberry plait followed by a homemade date loaf whilst basking in the sun sheltered by the casuarinas. By the time Dean decided to join us Mick was ready. He turned out to be better than expected with no hint of water bruises that had spoiled many of his compatriots.
The SW continued to blow and took with it Plan B as we headed over to the jetty on St Helena. We dropped the chairs and table enroute to a comfort stop to find them set up and happily occupied on our return. After ousting the imposters everyone settled into yet another caloric refill and a warm siesta in the
shelter of the rock wall. The tide was right on the low by now and the bay had drained.
Initial thoughts were to return via the eastern side of Green, but the wind had a fair degree of west making it possible to sail back the way we had come. With yet another change of plan on the fly the hand held UHF radios came into their own. Probably just as well we did take the western side as by now the bay was filled
with regattas and we would have had to cross paths with many a yacht which made us look somewhat insignificant.
Back at Wellington Point there was plenty of chatter with interested people on a diversity of topics as we packed the gear and loaded the boats. While we enjoyed a coffee finale at the restaurant the bay was looking still and picturesque. Two kayakers were seen in the distance - it looked like Silvio and Paul returning from Peel. Whichever way you went it was yet another simply a magic day on the bay.
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