The weather has had us running up and down the Coromandel Peninsula as the wind swings around the clock to the tune of 20-35 kts (twice a week). At one point we went back south and anchored in front of Coromandel Village in 8 ft of water but still 3/4 of a mile from the beach. Coromandel is at the head of a very shallow and sticky bay. The local boats are tucked into the mangroves.

 

The village is a sleepy place with a strange hold on tourists. Lap dogs yawn.

Sharing an ice cream cone brightens their day.

People grow flowers on the sidewalks and trim their cottages in lace.

Weathered agrarians purposefully go about the business of extracting livelihoods from the green hills.

 

Their livestock add weight until it’s too dark to find the grass.