Who wouldn't sail 9 nautical miles (each way) to get their favorite ice cream?
It's not real time, but it happened recently enough,I thought I'd write up my ice cream run here. Probably split across a few posts. And I still need to collect some suitable photos. (Update: I'll put those at the end).
Here's the teaser:
On a neighboring island there is a small city with a charming historic downtown adjacent to what I believe is the site of the ferry landing in earlier days. It's now a small marina. There are a number of restaurants and touristy shops in easy walking distance. One of them is famous for its ice cream.
To get there from our beach, you round a headland, cross a moderately traveled passage between the islands, cut across the opening of a wide shallow bay bookended by cliffs, and continue well into a long narrow fjord, known for its mussels. I've been there before, but that was "pre-pandemic", which somehow makes it part of a different era. Also, with the pandemic far from over, we weren't quite sure what to expect, so I went online to check for news. One web-page had a mention that part of the waterfront had been condemned. That wasn't promising. Another had a link to the police blotter, and I learned that local residents complained about invisible people hiding in trees. That was intriguing. However, none of that threatened the supply of ice cream.
That left the challenge of getting there: even with a favorite forecast, it is far from certain whether you'll be able to make it there. And whether it will be day or night when you return.
Next: the forecast.