So there we were, we'd gone to a great deal of trouble to stay at Robertson Cove - and now, there was a tent already set up there! It didn't come as a *total* surprise, really - on our way there, we'd noticed that pretty much every campable beach south of Coldwater had tents on it. Since these people had not passed during our time at Coldwater, we could only assume that they were travelling south to north (or east to west, as the case may be in this area), and why would you paddle past the 
perfection of Robertson? The only way you'd do that is if the place were already occupied, right? Right. And, worse, there are no other designated campsites anywhere near Robertson - past it, you get the Katherine Cove public access, and a long stretch without sites until you get well south of the Sand River. This is what the map told me. The others all had the same map, but for some reason, they still looked to me with a "now where do we go?" sort of demand. I didn't know! I knew that, with the shuttle and everything, it was getting later in the day and the 
VHF had announced a big thunderstorm later in the day. So we needed to get off the water. We decided that any beach that looked suitable would be fine - but in this area, the beaches are filled with people (public access points at both the Sand River and Katherine Cove) and there are dunes, which have dune grass, and I'm not camping in dune grass because that is *bad* (someobody should start fining all the daytrippers who think it is fun to tromp through it and spread their towels out in it).
But somewhere north of the Sand River, the beach area that has no vegetation widens into a large flat area of sand, and the trees come almost to the shore. This looked perfect - no impact tenting, and trees to hang tarps from. It's also a super shallow area, which meant tons of little surf - but I'm ok at the surf *landings*, it's just the launches I'm not fond of. I landed. Kevin did not, right away - he was having a lot of fun playing in the little surf, and when May saw that, she re-launched to play too. Not me. I stayed put. I put up my tent, and I got started on the tarp - I wanted dry places when the deluge came. I was remembering Warp Bay...
I got my tent up (dry!). We got the tarps up. And it still hadn't rained! Even those surf-playing fools Kevin and May had plenty of time to get their tents up (dry!). I got so tired of waiting for wet from above that I went for a swim (it was also brutally hot). And then we cooked dinner (correction: Kevin, May and Elke cooked dinner. I ate) and it was still dry. And then some rather bizarre daytrippers invaded our campsite, wanting to take pictures of one particular root with people's heads stuck in them (I didn't get this, at all) and I was *really* ready for a downpour, but no. Just as it was getting dark, some rain started - but by then, we all disappeared in our tents anyway. So much for my obsessive tarping. Maybe it rained a bit in the night, but I doubt it.
It was markedly cooler the next morning (note that this did not keep May from swimming some more), but calm and sunny. The canoeists who had deprived me of my beloved Robertson Cove came by very early (lining the canoe along the shore? I didn't understand this either) and Elke talked to them. Apparently, just after we'd gone by, their site was invaded by what might 
have been a dozen but felt like hundreds of boy scouts, and they took over the place. The couple who was there did not feel like becoming eagle scouts, and escaped well before dawn. Narrow escape, that, I guess, since *we* had a *great* impromptu site - complete with sandy and dewy tarps which served no purpose. And camping near a public access meant that I could dispose of garbage, which I did, on a walk to the Sand River parking lot with Kevin. All in all, things worked out well.
