Fog rolled in overnight. There was a great thunderstorm and then rain all night. The next morning the marine report called for dense fog, advising small craft to stay off the water. It was cold. It was dark. We could not see past our little cove. We hunkered down to wait it out, wearing all the warm clothing we'd brought.

Here was the cove at low tide (the dark lower half of the rocks marks the high tide point - the whole cove fills in). The world beyond it had disappeared, and stayed that way all day and all the next day. We made popcorn. We played cards. We invented new card games. We napped. We read. We listened to marine forecasts. Cold, rainy, foggy. But really, it's not so bad to be stuck on an island, just the two of us!

Here is the far point of the island, scoured by glaciers and weather. Very rugged and lovely.

On our third evening at Stevens we had a fourth of July celebration - we found as much dry wood as we could, and made this cheery little fire. It smoked and sputtered, trying to burn in the dampness, and we toasted the birth of the nation (somewhere out there beyond the fog) with a glass of wine and the high hopes of clearing weather. Then the sun came out!

Suddenly it all lifted and there was the rest of the world! We made plans to leave early the next morning.

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