Embarking into pitch black darkness, plying bay waters past the the iconic landmark
to us the boat house represented a departure from civilization and the beginning of our journey into the oceans embrace
The sounds of piano and revelry began to fade as we covered more water, a reminder that we are on our own
It was our church. ⛪️ where our people gathered, from far off cities and towns, we congregated here, before this illuminated, warm & boisterous fish shack at the end of a pier to prepare for great adventure, plying bay waters into the midnight sky
In search of bioluminescence, which some say is the beginning of life on earth.
And upon our return, out of the darkness and toward the light emanating from the tip of the pier, the boat shack was our North Star, often when there were no other stars
The landmark to which our compass was fixed.
Our beacon of light as we emerge from the fog layer. The boat house was the guiding light, a fixture on countless tours, always positioned off the bow of our kayaks,
Toward which we paddled for hours and hours and miles. Its sights and sounds and warmth, smoke from the wood burning stove, the keys of the piano, promising comfort upon our return to shore to rejoice in society once again.
Farewell to the boat house.
