Day eight: 11/24/1999

I woke up early to find a local retired hunter/fisherman there waiting on his hunting buddies who were half his age, which he had to call to get them out of bed.  He was amazed to hear that we had paddled so far across the Pamlico Sound.  He talked about a storm in the '50s that killed a load of people who tried to sail back from raccoon island (who had been there fishing and crabbing) in the eye of a hurricane, they all died.  This day we packed our stuff up, trying to dry it out with rainsqualls coming through, to no avail.  We packed up anyway and spent the rest of the time underneath the picnic table shelters with our stuff, and I ate my remaining 5 hot dogs.  Jill finally came and she brought the dogs: her dog Levi (black lab) and my dog Foster (German shepherd).  I was very happy to see Jill and the dogs.  Levi spent the time it took us to load the boats and supplies in Jill's vehicle swimming in the creek behind our campsite.  This was the end of the trip.