As the anvil cloud grew and grew dark it began to move, and we turned away to deep water where the white terns working, looked bright against the darkening sky. Following us west the storm made boat speed difficult, and I decided to dash for shore. But as I turned sails back into the cold rain, wind capped blue water white and warm over the bow, and Ross called out, “fish on.” Ethan is cooking tacos with the mackerel tonight. 8/8/10
8/8/10Leave a Reply |
