Today we declared an end to construction (at least as a primary focus), and cleaned all the tools, scrap and detritus from the house, and even made progress stowing things away in the garage , and then getting it back into order. After work we took to the water, clearing rocks around the pier and even swimming for seconds at a time.

Last evening, Earl and Karen were unable to attend, so we went without them. Cars lined along the street in front of Hunt's store and around the church. Boats at anchor and in almost all the slips. Half a dozen occupied stand-up paddle boards holding stationary in the harbor (occupants sitting down) and the finger docks well lined with people on chairs or sprawling on the hardwood. And Heliotrope providing the best seat in the house.

As we were settling in we noticed a boat new to the harbor tied opposite us across the finger—a Bayfield 29 that I had seen coming in earlier in the afternoon as I was sailing the Windrider. Sometime during the usual extended pre-concert preparation/tuneup, a couple about our age stepped aboard and and began to set up for some listening. That's when I stepped across the finger, introduced ourselves, and invited them over for a glass of wine, a slice of strawberry-rhubarb pie, and an even more luxurious seat. Now it looks like we have new friends, with interesting backstories and similar interests—Jean and Dave, who spend six months on Manioulin and six months at their house on the Pacific coast of Mexico.