I have gone out kayaking in the fog many times this summer, only to discover that the air was clear for the first 8 meters or more above the water. This trip was the first time that the fog actually came down to the water, and my visibilty was limited to a hundred meters or less. From the sound of the waves on the shore and visible contact with nearby rocks, I felt that there was no danger of getting lost. I'm always interested in finding out what it is like kayaking in different conditions, so I paddled off into the Myst. I was alternately driven out to sea around rocks by waves too rough to allow passage, and driven back into shore by my curiosity to see as much as I could see.
After a while, I noticed a dark fog bank ahead of me and farther out to sea. I was surprised that it was so much darker than the fog that I was in. This dark fog bank started to resolve some detail, and had some lighter areas in it. I tried to imagine a fog bank that had whiter outer fringes that shadowed darker inner areas, but imagined that the outer fringes should be moving while these seemed static. Suddenly, the dark fog bank crystallized into a very large object sticking out of the water! The sudden change in my perceptions made it seem to zoom towards me. It was too big to be a rock, and my first thought was that a super tanker was out there and going to crash into me! But then I saw that I had actually paddled most of the way into Duncans Landing, the small cove where I had planned on turning around and heading back. The fog bank cum-super tanker was actually Duncans Point, the seaward bit of land that shelters the cove. This cove was once used as a "doghole", a place where sailing ships could get close enough to shore that cargo and passengers could be winched on board with cables across the cove. There are photographs in local museums of proper ladies in long dark dresses, holding their umbrellas while being swung through the air on cables to get on board a ship.