For those of you who could use a little context when it comes to the geography of Tasmania, this is where we're at - in the D'Entrecasteaux Channel, south of the Sandstone Jungle that is Greater Metropolitan Hobart.
Our pace over the last week has been restrained - we've anchored at Snake Island, Dover, and now, Southport.
Elias at a midden site.
That slow pace has been perfect. One of the things that I looked forward to most when we left home on a sailboat five years ago was the opportunity to reclaim the wide-open landscapes of time that I had roamed in my twenties, and that is still one of the best parts of sailing as a family - it makes us rich in time.
We have bushwalked in the rain, we have eaten oysters and mussels with friends, we have met kind strangers who have invited us to their homes.
We have listened to frogs singing from the tussock-fringed puddles, and we have all spotted bird species we've never seen before.
How could a week in town possibly compete?
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