We sure couldn't see across the bay to the bank of Long Island 100 yards out in the soup. And in this we affixed compasses and bid adieu to landfall . . . Clumps of spartina appear in the mist, announcing the presence of the eastern shore of Long Island. The tide was running out with plenty of water in the bay. Some 4.5 feet of water at the lowest point for today's tide, we would have enough for crossing the shoals on the north end.
Mergansers dive out of our path.
Pockets of clearing allow us to reconnoiter, but still we cling to the eastern bank as the fog surrounds our boats. Dave keeps calling out bearings, but I in my ongoing modifications of order on the foredeck had arranged the compass in front of the deck bag and can't read the dial. Patches of soup and a fringe of treetops ahead of us. This is Paradise Point. We'd been on the water for half an hour or so.