Bugmaggedon

There is something about wide open spaces that is mesmerizing. I have the cockpit to myself at the moment, and off to starboard is one long crisp horizontal line. Below the line is a placid teal green sea, above is a cerulean blue sky with wispy clouds. The picture can never do justice.

Today is our longest leg so far, almost 100 miles. We decided to skip Cleveland and make a dash for Cedar Point. To make sure we get there before nightfall, we're motorsailing. The weather tomorrow is not in our favor...winds at 15 -20 knots out of the west with intermittent thunderstorms and rain.

Now I realize that insects are an important link in the larger ecosystem but it is hard to ignore their rude intrusion into our warefaring paradise. The scene, the carnage, that greeted us this morning was apocalyptic. We've encountered these buggers along the way but lost them the next day. Curiously they visit us on the lakes, not the Erie Canal. But today's swarm in the hardour off Ashtabula was breathtaking in the not so good sense. They take up residence on every surface and die. They have a short life span it seems as about 50 % are dead. But in their short life, they leave other evidence of their presence...and with moisture, that dissolves into a prominent Easter egg green dye stain. We undertook a partially successful effort to wash them away...which improved the scene in the cockpit considerably. Some have returned but sadly they brought their buddies, the biting flies, with them. I'm armed with a fly swatter but its futile. The backlog of flies on the stern of the boat out of my reach are waiting for an opening to swoop in. It will be something we can laugh about later, help us appreciate why the fish thrive here, and make us eternally grateful for the invention of the window screen and netting.