North end of Bulls Bay, SC – May 3, 2013
I returned to the water like a boxer leaving his corner after a bad round. Sluggish. Weary. Not wanting to do it again.
The wind hadn’t stopped blowing. It just rolled over me all night, loud and angry, shouting taunts.
The water felt like wet concrete. The bow lumbered through the sludge on heavy strokes. The world slipped backwards on the gusts. I moved in inches, pressed into the grass at high tide, scrapped the mud bottom at low, trying to find a crack in the wall of rushing air.
Another seven hours, another ten miles, and the bell rings.
Predictably Lost 
Could be a long trip.
No KO or TKO yet……..I know you got a strong chin…….
Those voyageurs had 8 or 9 paddles working at once. The Gulf Stream is too far east. But you can make it to Hatteras, and it should be easier after that.
Awesome perseverance!
I love paddling but only on a calm sunny day — you’re amazing.
“Ding, ding.” – Apollo Creed