Standing in the deep sand peering through the mist covered rollers trying to see the surfers catch the waves, trudging along the coast a faint sound breaks the surfs pounding with a blaring fog horn blast! honk! wail! As your ears target the origin of the horn you see the mirage of the shape of a small boat as it zooms toward the beach, ultimately beaching itself on the sand right in front of you.
I was so captivated that I returned the next day to watch the men come in from the sea flying up onto the beach like sprinters finishing an Olympic level race. There seems to be a brief window of time as the tide is beginning to come in that coincides with a good beaching technique, as several boats came in within a matter of ten or fifteen minutes.
One proud and nearly deaf Dory-man showed off his catch with the admonition. “Take the pic quick, this fish is heavy.” Isn’t that one beautiful Salmon?
That night we had the best and freshest ling cod I’ve ever had the chance to wrap my tongue around. Although it could have been the yurt camping and my amateur cooking on a Coleman stove at Cape Lookout that added to the flavor. Everything tastes better when cooked out-of-doors while camping. Even yurt camping.