Saturday, July 28, 2012

Block Island, Rhode Island

Somehow summer seems incomplete without a visit to the Block. Yet in all reality very few native born Rhode Islanders have ever been there. A perfect example is Joe. His first trip to Block Island was when we along with a few other intrepid multihull ( Hobie Cat) sailors pushed off the beach at Point Judith and sailed our 16 foot " flying carpets" to the North Light at Block Island.

It was the 80's and we were much younger and certainly more naive ( my nice word for stupid.) Of course now we are much more mature (my nice word for old) and have experienced the dangers that didn't happen but could have, like fog. In those days we didn't own a compass. When I think back to what could have happened I realize that pure unadulterated luck was on our side.
These days a sail aboard Simple Life to Block is the norm. Although somehow even when it seems that we have been everywhere and done everything there is to do on the island something will surprise us. The sun had just set when we arrived and settled into our anchoring spot. Joe prefered to anchor close to the shoreline in the shallow section of the basin. Shortly thereafter I began hearing what appeared to be the sound of a woodpecker! Within minutes the sound came from the west. A short time later the sound came from the east. We thought about what it could have been. Perhaps it was one of the cormorants or some type of egret settling down in the marsh grass. After about an hour the sounds began in earnest. Whatever it was it became a chorus almost a competition of sounds. One seemed to be answering the other from different locations in the basin and it was at times reverberating from under our boat. The chatter went on all night and subsided at dawn. At sunrise we remarked about the odd chattering sounds that persisted all night. I figured there must be something about these birds, fish, sea monsters on Google. But, there was no information. Google had failed me. Joe recalled reading an article somewhere about something called a chatter fish. Google that! Again no luck. Joe was persistent and came up with an article that had been published in Points East magazine. Our mystery monster had a name along with one of those scientific looking illustrations. It's called a Cusk eel. Apparently, the male Cusk eel feeling a bit randy emerges from its burrow at dusk in search of a mate. The chattering sounds coax the female out of her burrow and that's when sparks begin to fly. With the IPad and Google to the rescue our mystery was solved. How did we ever travel without these new-fangled electronic devices?

The following day my friend Anna and her sister Desire'e came to Block for a visit. They arrived on the 10:30 ferry out of Point Judith. I had been wracking my brain all week concerning how they could best experience the Block. Joe tried to reassure me that we should ask what they wanted to do. I thought mopeds, bikes, maybe kayak rentals, a ride to the Southeast Light, maybe lunch at the Oar...I wanted them to experience the island. Joe said, "Why don't you wait to see what they want to do." Brilliant!" I called Anna and asked. She said, "Are you kidding Block Island is on my bucket list! Anything we do is fine. We can sit on your boat. It will be new and wonderful!"
We met them at the ferry. On the way back to the anchorage we stopped at the market to buy some mozzarella and prosciutto. Then we took the scenic walk along Crescent Beach. Twenty minutes later we arrived at New Harbor. Anna and Desire'e experienced their first dinghy ride out to the boat. We chatted about their ferry ride and some of the characters that were onboard.They also had their first look at New Harbor, the anchorage and the Simple Life. As the afternoon progressed we shared quite a few laughs, some tapas of olives, tomatoes, mozzarella, wine and best of all the feeling of good friendship.

While they marveled at the surroundings my perception of our life style was renewed. I saw everything through their eyes and enjoyed. Once again Block Island had provided a refreshing experience along with a tinge of mystery that keeps us all coming back for more.
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Monday, July 23, 2012

Return to Cuttyhunk

Earlier in July Simple Life had taken us to Cuttyhunk via Buzzards Bay on the way to Martha's Vineyard. A return visit seemed like a good idea given that we'd been experiencing temperatures in the 90s' at the Vineyard and Cuttyhunk's anchorage offered more opportunity for a cooler sea breeze and a dip in the ocean.



Apparently, the cattle that reside on Nashawena which is a private island and only a stones throw away from Cuttyhunk thought a dip was a great idea too! I first noticed them upon our approach to the island. At first I thought they were huge boulders on the beach and in the water. I thought,"Wow the tide is really low. Maybe it's a moon tide. I've never noticed that many boulders on that beach before." I took a peek with binoculars...Oh boy, time to visit the optometrist...


Those were cows not rocks! It was so hot that even the cows had no intention of "coming home." They were sunning themselves on the beach and standing up to their chests in the ocean.
Once we negotiated the channel into the harbor and picked up a mooring, Joe went ashore to collect some water for our tanks and to buy a piece of fresh swordfish for dinner.


He'd overheard the captain of the charter fishing boat ask his clients if they planned to attend the bluegrass concert at the Avalon. To any seasoned cruiser this sounded like an opportunity. He brought the fish back to the boat and asked if I knew the whereabouts of the Avalon. I didn't and said, "It can't be too difficult to find the island is so small." We decided to go ashore on a scouting mission. I asked a woman on the dinghy dock if she knew the location of the Avalon. She replied that it was behind the Fishing Club. Now we knew where to go and made our plans for the evening concert.



Dinner was a bit rushed because a thunderstorm that had been forecast since noon arrived just before the table was set. The wind changed direction from the south with a cooling breeze from the north. It blew through rather quickly with a few lightening bolts here and there until the skies brightened with an overdue sunset giving hope for the evening concert.
Beach chairs and a small cooler with a flask of Captain Morgan in Joe's hip pocket were packed and we were off in the dinghy and tied up to the dock within minutes of the storm's passing. The bluegrass band could be heard warming up as we neared the Avalon. There were quite a few locals gathered on the lawn. A pot luck dinner had been organized and the entire shindig was sponsored by the Cuttyhunk Cultural Society.


The band was from Rhode Island and comprised of some fine musicians. Joe and I actually knew a few tunes and were able to sing along with the chorus. The thunder storm that had been in the forecast earlier arrived around 8:30 PM with cloud to ground lightening strikes nearby. Joe said, "Time to go." We packed up our things and walked quickly back to the dinghy dock. By the time we'd arrived it began thundering. I was so glad that we'd bought the new, high speed 15hp engine for the dinghy. We were back in a flash, safe and sound aboard the Simple Life.

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Friday, July 20, 2012

Lake Tashmoo, Vineyard Haven

There are so many things to do in Martha's Vineyard that it's often difficult to make a choice. My friends, MaryAnn and Charlie live on the island and often have the inside scoop on some of the more interesting options. Prior to arriving at our anchoring destination in Lake Tashmoo I emailed MaryAnn updating her on our ETA. As usual she had an array of possible activities planned for us.


One option was a private garden tour of several historic sea-captain's homes in Edgartown. MaryAnn was recently elected vice president of the Martha's Vineyard Garden Club and as a member invited me to join the walking tour. Garden club members with names such as Winky and Sunny greeted attendees at each home and provided historical tidbits regarding the homes and gardens. It was a pleasure and a privilege to see these lovely historic homes and manicured flower gardens that overflowed with native and exotic blooms.


Lobster dinner on the beach at Menemsha was on the itinerary the following evening at sunset. Charlie and MaryAnn picked us up at the dinghy dock at Lake Tashmoo and drove out to Menemsha.


Each evening at sunset locals and visitors gather on the beach to celebrate sundown. At first glance it appears to be a subdued gathering of groups of families and friends dipping in the water and having picnic dinners on the beach. Much like the revelers at Mallory Square in Key West groups soon evolved into guitar strumming, blues harmonica playing, off key singing, dancing merrymakers. There was a palpable excitement in the air before sunset. Unfortunately, clouds moved in obscuring the sunset. It was beginning to get dark and people began packing up and preparing to leave. We and a handful of others remained on the beach.


Nearby on a jetty a group of a dozen or so young women were gathering. It was almost dark and they were working simultaneously at a task of lighting large white luminaries that were being held by one or two girls. Flames were lit beneath each semi elliptical shape while one or two girls attempted to hold it outstretched. Amazingly, the "balloons" would expand and begin rising from their grip. When released the glowing orbs tenuously lifted from the outstretched arms of the girls and floated one after another over Vineyard Sound. Everyone watched in amazement as they rose thousands of feet into the sky only to be carried away from shore by gentle off shore breezes. As each orb floated off the jetty I heard several girls ask others if they made a wish while cheers and applause erupted on the beach. We went in for a closer look and to inquire about the nature of these magical floating luminaries. One girl explained that they were called wish lanterns and that the tradition originated long ago in China where for centuries lanterns have been lit and released into the heavens along with positive wishes for happy couples on their wedding day.


When the final lantern was lit and lifted skyward young girls' secret wishes were sent along along their way.There was no sunset to speak of that evening yet all who stayed on the beach anticipating something special at Menemsha were not disappointed.


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Location:Martha's Vineyard

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Cookout at the Black Dog

The Alternative Cruise from Edgewood Yacht Club was organized by our friend and fellow yacht club member Daria Bentley who was enviably elected and awarded the title of cruise director this year.


Daria planned a number of events for participants of the cruise with one of the most spontaneous and enjoyable being the cookout on the beach at the Black Dog Tavern in Vineyard Haven. Daria was in full throttle entertainment mode when she planned this event and told everyone to "Just bring your meat, I'll have everything else." This notice came as a relief to Joe and me since we were anchored in Lake Tashmoo and had a half hour walk across the island.


Daria with the help of a handful of other cruisers staying at the Black Dog Docks prepared a number of tasty side dishes to compliment everyone's choice of barbecued meats. She provided everything from great conversation to barbecue grills, and plates. The cookout went off without a hitch. There was definitely no whining and everyone left feeling full and satisfied. Joe and I had to leave before sunset in order to made it back to Lake Tashmoo before dark. We were a little nervous about having an unexpected and odiferous encounter with the dreaded skunks of Vineyard Haven.


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Location:Vineyard Haven, Martha's Vineyard

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Cuttyhunk Island


The diminutive island of Cuttyhunk is a favorite destination for many sailors passing through Buzzards Bay. It is the outermost island in the Archipelago of the Elizabeth Islands. For many cruisers this island is utilized as a one night stop over on the way to destinations further east such as Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket. On a recent cruise to Cuttyhunk with some fellow members of Edgewood Yacht Club, Joe and I thought it would be fun to spend a few days on the isle and discovered that given time and opportunity this quaint enclave can easily become a destination worthy of more than a "one night stand."


Cuttyhunk is a "dry" island in that no alcohol can be purchased or sold. To ensure that everyone keeps smiling, a sailor must be well stocked prior to planning a stay for any length of time. There is a small fish market on the docks with the freshest catch of the day including line caught swordfish. There's also a small market with fresh veggies up the hill from the dinghy dock. The small Cuttyhunk museum displays images and artifacts about life on Cuttyhunk during the winter months. It seems that everything on Cuttyhunk is small and with a physical land mass of .9 square mile and an approximate year round population of 52 hardy souls larger businesses would be unsustainable.


There is one aspect of the island that isn't small and that is Lookout Hill. The view from the crest on a clear summer day can be spectacular with views of Martha's Vineyard's clay cliffs at Aquinnah, Block Island to the south and the mainland to the north. Each summer annual pilgrimages to the summit are made with the arrival of transient cruising yachtsmen. Oftentimes when this feat has been accomplished most cruisers feel ready to move on to their next destination.


During our recent visit we decided to take things a little slower, to smell the honeysuckle that permeates the air often unsuspectingly wafting by on a warm summer breeze. It was our time to embrace the quirkiness of island traditions. One notable tradition begins with the signal of the ferry's whistle for departure. Dozens of island adolescents perch on the ferry dock's pilings plunging into the ferry's wake as she heads out into the narrow channel. Occasionally, the island bagpiper ceremoniously greets passengers with an array of traditional tunes as they arrive on the next incoming ferry.


In all reality the only missing detail needed to enjoy the charms of this island are a comfortable beach chair, an umbrella, some good friends and maybe a cooler with your favorite "beverage."
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Location:Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts

Monday, July 9, 2012

Home is the sailor home from sea and the hunter home from the hill

One of Joe's favorite avocations when anchored at Dutch Harbor in Narragansett Bay is quohogging. Most people other than Rhode Islanders refer to this odd Native American term as clamming. Joe has one tenacious issue with this hobby and that is that he doesn't know when to stop digging (experts agree that this activity can be addictive.) Each time he heads out in the dinghy with his rake, inflated tube and net in which he stores the day's bounty, I remind him not to bring too many back to the boat.


He nods his head in agreement and heads off into shallow waters for...an hour or two or three. Last summer he headed out for two hours and very proudly rushed back to the boat with one hundred forty four very large quahogs. This wouldn't be an issue if he was a commercial quohogger. The problem lies in the fact that the chief cook and bottle washer is expected to make "stuffies" with his catch and each quohog makes two stuffies. You can do the math. Needless to say it I worked for three days to complete the task of steaming, grinding, sautéing and stuffing these mollusks with a mixture of bread stuffing, sausage, onions, chilies, and clam juice. I was exhausted and Joe was a happy hunter.


Earlier this summer Joe headed out once again with a very stern warning. He had a catch limit of no more than twelve to fifteen and they had to be cherry stone size no big ones. His time limit was one half hour and he was to return to the boat. The chef was on strike. In a short order the dinghy was tied up to Simple Life within the allotted time and the catch was right on the money. Everyone was happy especially the chef. I was so proud of him and quite relieved. It appeared at least for now "quohogger rehab" had worked. We prepared a wonderful meal that night. A couple of stuffies for appetizers, and a main course of spaghetti alle vongole.



Location:Dutch Harbor, Jamestown, Rhode Island

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

America's Cup World Championship, Newport, RI

Starting line of the fleet race. Final day of America's Cup World Trials
    Joe and I along with thousands of Rhode Islanders who are avid racing sailors have dreamed of the time when the America's Cup Racing would someday return to its rightful venue in the waters off Newport, RI. It took only thirty years for this to actually happen. Somehow it doesn't seem that long since the cup was lost to the Aussies in 1983. Since then it has been raced in Australia, San Diego, New Zealand, and finally Valencia, Spain where the young skipper Jimmy Spithill racing aboard Oracle Team USA won it for the Americans  returning the America's Cup to the States.
Americas Cup winning skipper Jimmy Spithill with me after racing in Newport, RI
Oracle 5 attempting to cover Italians Luna Rossa on final leg to the finish line.
   Jubilant fans across Rhode Island finally had hopes of seeing America's Cup racing return to Newport. This year in late spring to the disappointment of Rhode Islanders, the owners of Oracle Team USA announced that the Cup racing venue would take place in San Francisco in September, 2013. Shortly thereafter an announcement was made that gave Rhode Islanders hope. The final stop of the World Series Trials for the Americas Cup would take place in Newport, RI. Upon hearing this news Joe and I planned to be there to witness this historic event. To our delight the racing was aboard 45 foot catamarans with 70 foot fixed wing mainsails that are capable of reaching speeds of over 25 knots in a 15 knot breeze.
     Thirty years ago when we were racing competitively aboard 16 foot Hobie Catamarans we thought the cup races would certainly be more exciting if slower monohulls were exchanged for the faster speeds of the multihulls. Again it took only 30 years to catch on!

Dutch Harbor, Jamestown, RI


Morning in Dutch Harbor with osprey nest in distance
     One of our favorite destinations during the summer months is the anchorage in Dutch Harbor, Jamestown, RI. There's a tranquil quality about the harbor in the morning before the southwesterly sea breeze awakens. This particular time of day is capable of entrancing even the most ardent city dweller with its' mesmerizing sights and sounds of solitude.
The Dutch Harbor Lighthouse on Dutch Island
      Melodies of finches and sparrows fill the air as they dart in and out of onshore sea spray rosebushes. An osprey family has built a nest on top of a platform with a new fledgling in its care. They're constantly fishing to appease their young boisterous charge. Usually,wisps of fog hover here and there softening the glare of early morning light. Joe always has coffee ready and is usually taking it all in long before I've crawled out of bed. He likes to photograph all of this...to show me what I've missed.