Load up again and paddle across St. Vincent Sound. The water is now like glass. Birds are everywhere. Gulls scream overhead. An eagle swoops down to take a floating fish stunned in the storm.
Sandpipers scavenge on the forested bay shore.
Lunch of raw oysters and draft beer at a shack called Ouzi's on Highway 98. The locals ask where you're headed. A guidebook says it's the best beach in North America. A woman who sells you more supplies says it's rugged and dangerous and you should get a hotel room in Panama City instead. You smile and thank her and continue west.