Stranded on an island with no way to reach the rest of the world except via kayak, uncertain how to make repairs and food choices shrinking, I can only ask why I do this.  I could be at home with no cares, no worries.  

  "Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light."

<Dylan Thomas>

"The hardest part of coping with all the changes we encounter throughout our lives is learning to divorce from the present as it relates to the past.  If you long for the things of youth then you will lose your way.  Just realize that you can carve out a space for yourself and just lay low, letting the turmoil pass.  Enjoy what's left and to hell with the mess around you"  <P. G. MaGuire

I was going to be stranded for at least a few days.  The regulations say that when camping (mooring) you must move at least one river mile every two weeks.  Stranded as I was, my only option for moving would be to call for a tow back to home port, an almost all-day enterprise, else I would technically be in violation.  I doubt that should I overstay my docking I would be in serious trouble since I have found most TWRA officials to be reasonable, but I do like to stay as legal as I can.

So what to do?  I sourced my parts with my internet connection and placed orders.  I have been extremely lucky when I have found myself in dire straights.  When I was on the Natchez Trace Trail with a broken trailer axel and a hurricane approaching the Gulf Shores forcing closure of the Trace, I managed with friends and internet orders/Tractor Supply/local Ace Hardware to make repairs and escape before I would be forced to abandon my rig and evacuate.  This may sound like something insignificant, but the fact that all these many and variable things came together just in the nick of time and actually managed to fit and function is a small miracle.  Similar things have happened before like the time I was stranded in Missouri and sourced bolts from a picnic table (I owe you one -- or two) to make repairs to a broken alternator mount on my camper truck, allowing me to make it home before the worst of the Fauchi Flu closings took effect.  These things combine to teach me what I consider a truth of life:  Never expect the worst.  Instead expect the best.  What's to lose?  I really think that your attitude in adversity has some influence on how the challenge will end.

While stranded I paddled over to Loyston Point.  Here's some info about old Loyston:

My bucket tomatoes thrived.  Unfortunately they failed to bear fruit.  I suspect that my constant moving when I finally got underway again confused any potential pollinator bees and I had only pretty plants with colorful and aromatic blooms.

Sweet pepper plants did not fare so well either:

 Catfish and drum seemed to like me.  I like then too.  Canned food got a bit old after a few days.

 I broke out a can of pickled eggs thinking that they might make a good exception to fish and beans.  They are indeed colorful, but not being a devoted fan of sour rubber, they are not really one of my favorite foods.

Not much to do while waiting on parts.  I finally mustered enough make-do tools to remove the old steering cable and do some maintenance in anticipation of the new parts.  I pass over this in just a few words, but it was not a quick nor easy repair.  I pried and hammered and cussed more than a few times before I was even ready to install the new cable and steering wheel (they came as a complete rig).

"What would you do for a Klondike Bar?"

((((the paddle for icecream and the trailer back with parts and friend sam visit and rescue)))))

The repairs prove it's a lot of work doing nothing.  Part of the adventure -- proof of life.  inexperienced boatman got educated by high waters and point dockin

(expand thought: countries that survive must be like surviving people.  Young are energetic, curious, submissive to authority.  Prime life is for expansion, dominance and mastership.  Age brings wosdom and acceptance and a smiling acceptance -- hopefully with strength like the hornets nest.)