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We awoke to heavy fog, and the islands around us had nearly disappeared. Once the fog showed signs of letting up we relaxed and did some little projects around the boat, expecting the fog to continue to lift as it often does. We gradually prepared to sail to Rockland, 9 miles away. However, another wave of fog started to build, and we realized we should get a move on. Nine miles when you can see the destination seems easy, but when you can only see 100 feet it becomes an epic voyage. While I was at the helm, a lobster boat appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and one of the lobstermen motioned to us. We weren’t sure what he meant until we found the bell buoy to our port in the direction he had motioned. The fog socked in again so thickly that I went up on the bow to watch for boats and lobster pots, and yelling back “Lobster pot, 11 o’clock, lobster pot 1 o’clock” and Bryan sounded the horn when he could hear the ferryboat or lobster boats in the vicinity. We had gone too far to turn back, and despite the challenges, the fog was other-worldly and beautiful like a heavy snowfall. All the same, we were glad to see a buoy and Owls Head, a piece of land jutting out leading to the harbor.