When we launched at Magnolia Beach earlier in the day, we’d decided this would be our camp for tonight, and surely others would be there by now. I’ve gone back a couple of times to check on a friend who hasn’t sailed for three years due to some rough cancer treatments, and I’m running later than I’d like.
After sailing past the Port O’Connor jetties, I anchor for a half hour to give my friend a chance to catch up…but I’m running out of time. Pass Cavallo is different every time I’ve been there since Hurricane Harvey roared through the area in 2017. I do not feel confident I can find today’s version of the pass in the dark.
Filled with misgivings, I haul the anchor up and sail on.
In the last of the light I see masts a mile or so away, and an anchor light on one of the boats. I head for it. As the sun drops below the horizon it gets dark quickly—really dark. Darker than normal, even. I have read something about Saharan Desert dust in the air, maybe this is a side effect. It’s 2020, after all.
I drag my Mayfly 14, Gamaray, ashore right at 9 p.m. One of the other guys immediately texts our missing friend. He replies that he’s on a beach across from Port O’Connor with a couple of other Texas 200 boats, and that they are camping there for the night. I don’t know why I was worried about him—this guy is smarter and has more sailing experience than pretty much anyone I know. We make plans to meet up at Army Hole the next day, and as I am changing into my dry camp clothes I notice that my clip-on sunglasses are still clamped onto the frame of my glasses. The Mystery of The Darkness is solved.
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