Blowing like stink, from the west. No boats on the bay, except…

…us padding along the boulders, among the catspaws—and the sail-training barkentine sailing erratically and then heeling steeply but going slow as it came down towards the marina. We sat at the end of the pier and watched, with binos, for nearly an hour.

Enough wind to give us a (brief) power failure.

High winds giving us high water, too.