Tiger’s Cabin
A steady offshore wind buffets the mains’l and I have to keep tacking in order to gain way on the outgoing tide. Advancing from the southwest, I skirt around an exposed sandbar that might not make it past sundown and it’s not long before I spot the blue and white windsock waving in the breeze. I drop the mains’l and pull up the centerboard, wedging it forward, then drift in to where a smattering of grassy isles steps out to greet me. I stand in the cockpit, wrapping the mains’l around the boom then, un-stepping the mast, I lay it and the boom lengthwise across the cockpit before dropping over the side. Standing waist-high in the shallow water, I sling the bowline over my right shoulder and tow Sea Gypsy deep into the wetlands — more specifically, a tall stand of puffy p***y
