Pile driven

摘要

IT WAS A nervous paddle from the rocky foreshore to the darkening bridge pylons. Tidal flow was strong, the sun near set and 8 m of inky black water below. I had the one-man canoe scratching alongside the oyster-covered pylons within minutes. The tricky part came when I had to get out of the canoe and onto the pier. This is when the heart started racing—the only thing separating me from the creepy black water was an unstable canoe and sweaty palms. One mistimed lean, step or grab and I was taking anocturnal swim with an unbeatable tidal flow and things that go bump in the night!