Although I had chosen the northern anchorage at Blake for protection from the southerly wind, I found it was too exposed to the wakes of passing ferries and ships, so I dropped the buoy early this morning and moved to the western anchorage.

Today has turned into a day for ducks, ...or maybe sailors, but not this one. I worked on yesterday's blog entry for a while then, looking out at the grey day, watched an otter porpoising his way along between Mabrouka and the shore. Pausing to look my way, his disdain chided me to abandon my floating cell and venture ashore, so I launched the kayak. It was only a few strokes to the beach.

I didn't do much, just strolled north to the sandy spit that juts out toward Manchester on the other side of Yukon Harbor. The local wildlife kept me entertained for a while. There was a family of raccoons, I assume a mother and three cubs, foraging among the coastal debris for whatever tasty bits they could find among the logs and in the shallow pools. A blue heron nearby seemed unperturbed by the little troop of bandits.

Most interesting was a troupe of young boys playing on the beach, burying one another and performing small, boyish activities. Dad took a break from his own earth moving project, what appeared to be a miniature replica of Mount Fuji, to photograph his sons posing around the youngest's disembodied head protruding from the sand. After watching them for a few minutes and inspecting their driftwood constructions nearby, the thickening drizzle encouraged me to wander back down the beach to my kayak and I returned to Mabrouka for lunch and, of course, a nap.

Now I excuse myself to work on my Captain Un-inspected Passenger Vessel license application with the USCG.