Roy's Birthday - Manhattan

What a neat day! Even the things that weren't so good turned out ok in the long run.
The generator wouldn't run, probably because of the cold, so we walked uptown a few blocks to a little restaurant for breakfast. The food was cooked just right, and the prices were reasonable.
When we got back to the Jofian, a middle-aged man was admiring her. He was very knowledgeable, and asked a lot of cogent questions. It was obvious he really envied us.
We timed our departure so we'd go through Hell Gate with a favorable tidal current. It would have been well-nigh impossible to go through there against the current. With it, we zoomed along at 8 or 9 knots. There were a lot of eddies and cross-currents, but nothing we couldn't handle. However, shortly before we reached Hell Gate, we got off course. It was a very twisty part of the river. We were carefully watching the buoys, but a large barge pulled out from the shore, so we had to swing way over to the left to dodge it. That cost us our perspective. Suddenly, we were in fourteen feet of water instead of fifty. Roy swung the boat around and carefully went back the way we had come until we were once again in the main channel. We studied the chart until we were sure we knew where we were, and then continued down the East River, around the Battery, and up the Hudson. We enjoyed a lovely, scenic trip. It was starting to get dark, but we wanted to go under the George Washington Bridge, so we pressed on. The current was against us, so we were only making 2 1/2 knots. The sun was setting as we went under the bridge, so we immediately turned around and headed back down the river.
From the other side of the river on our way up, we had seen a marina on the Jersey side that looked as if it might be a good place to spend the night, but when we got there, it looked too small and shallow, so we continued on. Roy had noticed a sailboat anchored in a little cove, so he thought that would be a good place to anchor for the night, but as we entered the cove, the depth suddenly dropped from 14 feet to 9 feet to 4 feet, and we were aground. We dropped the anchor and checked the tide tables to see when the tide would start coming in, but the current kept pulling us south, so Roy started the engine again, and I pulled up the anchor. Soon we were afloat and headed down-river again.
By then, it was pitch dark, and Roy was steering by radar. We knew there were more marinas along the Jersey shore, but we didn't know exactly where. Finally, we saw some lights and masts ahead of us. Roy headed into the marina, while I shone the searchlight on the breakwater. We pulled up to the first dock we came to and sighed with relief.
The office was closed, so we couldn't get the card for going through the gate. I wanted to eat supper on the boat and relax, but Roy wanted to go to Manhattan for supper. It was his birthday, so I agreed, but I was worried about getting back in. The gate was low enough for him to climb over, but I hated to think what might happen if a security guard saw him climbing over the gate.
There was a ferry dock right next to the marina, so we took the ferry across to Manhattan. To our surprise, there were a bunch of free shuttle buses waiting to take ferry passengers to midtown Manhattan. We rode one to Fifth Avenue and 34th Street, where the Empire State Building is. We walked a couple of blocks up Fifth Avenue to a salad bar and ate supper there. Then we returned to the Empire State Building and went up to the viewing deck on the 86th floor. What a spectacular view! Visibility was excellent; we could see 25 miles in every direction. There were lights everywhere. It was also freezing cold. I was very glad I was wearing my winter coat. We walked around the outside deck and then went inside and walked around again. The view was really fabulous!
After we left the Empire State Building, we walked over to Times Square and watched the news going around the corner building in lights. Then we walked back to 34th Street and walked around in Macy's for a while.
Got back to the boat around 10:30. I surprised Roy with a carrot cake and some presents. He really enjoyed his birthday.

Monday, November 29, 1993 - Manhasset Bay, NY

What a contrast! Today was as calm as yesterday was stormy. We had no problem at all leaving the dock. On the sound, there was a light headwind, so we had to motor all day. The temperature warmed considerably, the current was in our favor, and by afternoon the water was completely flat. We were making such good time, we considered going on to New York Harbor, which was only 18 miles farther, but we decided to go into Manhasset Harbor as originally planned. Tomorrow morning, we'll reach New York easy.
There are a lot of marinas and yacht clubs in this harbor. We weren't sure which one to go to, so we were going to tie to the town dock temporarily. As we approached the dock, a man who was with the Harbor Patrol showed us a floating dock we could tie to for free. That was our price, so we went there. It's a good enough place even though there isn't any electricity. Roy was glad to have an opportunity to try the new generator. It worked fine, but really ate up the gas.
While it was still daylight, we walked a few blocks to a grocery store and bought a few things, including chicken. Then a man who was fishing from the dock gave us a fresh-caught striped bass, so now we have more perishable stuff than we know what to do with.

Sunday, November 28, 1993 - Stratford, CT

We're sure glad Roy put those extra lines on. It was blowing like crazy this morning. Even though we're several miles up the river, the water was full of waves and whitecaps. The docks were leaping up and down, and the boats were rocking back and forth. The non-floating pier had waves washing over it, and the gangplank went up instead of down. At LaGuardia Airport, the wind was clocked at 55 MPH. One of our port lines broke completely in two, so we put on several more heavy-duty lines and all the fenders we've got. Two of the fenders were about to lose their pajamas; we rescued them just in time.
We'd no sooner secured the boat than the rain started coming down in buckets, but by early afternoon the rain had let up and the wind had died down. Roy installed the repaired battery charger, and I phoned Linda, Kathy, and Dave Fulford, who helped us save the boat when we were tied to the wall in Wilmington. He's looking forward to sailing with us for a few days on our way south. I also walked over to the grocery store and bought eggs and stuff.
Later, Roy and I strolled around town for an hour or two. We're hoping we'll be able to get out of here tomorrow.

Saturday, November 27, 1993 - Stratford, CT

Wind blowing out of the east at 15 knots this morning. Even though the wind is favorable, we decided to stay here for the weekend. There are gale warnings for tonight and possible storm warnings for tomorrow, so we'll stay snug and secure here.
Walked around a little in the morning and bought a few more groceries. In the afternoon, we took the bus to nearby Bridgeport and visited the Barnum Museum. P.T. Barnum lived in Bridgeport most of his life. We were surprised to learn he didn't start his famous circus until he was sixty years old. He'd already made and lost several fortunes operating museums, promoting Tom Thumb and Jenny Lind, and holding political offices. There was a really neat model of his circus that had been hand-carved by one man over a sixty-year period.
When we got back to the boat, Roy attached two lines from the fuel dock to the weather side of the Jofian, so she won't bang the dock during the storm. Winds of 57 knots are predicted!

Friday, November 26, 1993 - Stratford, CT

Calm but freezing cold this morning. The boat and the docks were completely covered with frost. No problem getting away from the dock, but my fingers about froze putting the fenders and dock lines away, even though I was wearing woolen gloves.
The day gradually warmed up as we motored west. Had a little assist from the sails, but not much. Arrived at Stratford just as the sun was setting. Close call; another half hour and it would have been dark.
Filled the nearly empty tank with diesel. Then we walked over to the nearest super market and bought vegetables, fish, etc. I was surprised how much traffic there was. I had thought Stratford would be another sleepy village, like Old Saybrook, but it appears to be a bustling metropolis.
Stratford is at the mouth of the Housatonic River, near New Haven. It was founded in 1639 and named after Stratford-on-Avon. Needless to say, there is a Shakespearean theater group here in the summer.

Thanksgiving Day - Saybrook Point, CT

The wind howled all night and most of the morning. Glad we're in a safe harbor.
I took the dirty clothes up to the laundry room and washed them. Remembered to gather up all Roy's dirty clothes, but forgot my own!
Walked around a little. Old Saybrook is the sort of town you think of when you think of New England: quiet and peaceful, lots of trees, lovely old homes, many dating from the 1800's and 1700's. There were even a few from the 1600's! Saybrook was founded in 1635, and a wooden fort was built on the point. It burned down 12 years later, and another fort was built closer to the end of the point. It lasted until 1871, when it was demolished to provide room for the new railroad's turntable. The train made five trips a day to Hartford, but eventually automobiles took over and the old railroad was removed.
At noon, we ate a delicious turkey dinner in the first-class dining room, looking out at the ocean. Service was excellent, and we were given a free pumpkin pie to take back to the boat with us.
After dinner, we walked uptown a couple of miles. The day was sparkling clear and sunny but freezing cold. I was sure glad my daughter Carol had sent me my warm winter coat (the one my son Bill gave me a few years ago, just before I moved to Bellevue, Washington). It kept me toasty warm.
After we returned to the boat, I put the clean clothes away, charted our course to the Housatonic River, and then went up to the hotel for another good hot shower, swim, and jacuzzi. That warmed me up in a hurry. It will be a long time before we again enjoy such luxury.
We were both so stuffed from dinner that we didn't eat supper, but Roy ate a small piece of the pumpkin pie.

Wednesday, November 24, 1993 - Saybrook Point, CT

Heavy fog this morning. Without radar we wouldn't have been able to leave. As it was, we nearly went aground in soft mud in the middle of the harbor. Groped our way along the breakwater and out the entrance. After that it was easy. Visibility was about half a mile, so we didn't have to worry about a collision. Nevertheless, we were relieved when the fog lifted around noon.
It was very calm all morning, so we had to motor. Gale winds are predicted for tonight and tomorrow morning, so we were very glad to get out of there early. Motorsailed to the Connecticut River and tied up at the first marina we came to. There were plenty of empty slips--
only one other boat was there besides us.
Saybrook Point Hotel and Marina is a ritzy, brand-new place. In summer, the marina rates are $2 a foot, but now they're only charging $1.25 a foot. We stayed at the Gear Locker Marina in New Bedford for a week for just a few dollars more than it costs here for one night, but we figure we can splurge once in a while. We swam in the indoor pool, relaxed in the bubbling jacuzzi, and made reservations for Thanksgiving Dinner in the hotel dining room.

Tuesday, November 23, 1993 - Point Judith, RI

We've actually left New Bedford! I can't believe it! We'd been there so long, I was starting to grow barnacles.
Roy stayed in California an extra week so he could attend his brother's wedding on the 13th. He also flew to Salt Lake City one weekend to visit his daughter Laura. Of course, he also visited family and friends in California, but mostly he worked sixty plus hours a week.
While Roy was knocking himself out working, I was goofing off, having a ball. My childhood friend Marilyn turned her summer cottage near Newport over to me for almost a week. She even let me use the car! I had a lot of fun driving around the Newport area. Visited two of the Vanderbilt "cottages" (60-room mansions), walked the entire length of the Cliff Walk, viewed the famous Old Stone Mill (no, it was not built by Vikings), walked around a wildlife sanctuary and Brenton Point Park, etc. One day, I happened to be at a pier near the Newport Bridge when suddenly sirens started screaming and Police, Fire, and Rescue units arrived. At first I had no idea what was going on, but after five or ten minutes, a motorboat with a bedraggled woman in it pulled up to the pier. She had jumped off the bridge but was unhurt. She swam to a piling and clung to it until the guy in the motorboat rescued her. She was able to walk to the waiting ambulance without using the stretcher. (Last week, a convicted murderer and his wife supposedly jumped off the same bridge, but their bodies haven't been found, and the Police think it's a hoax to enable them to make a getaway.)
The Saturday after returning from Newport, I met my friend Irene in Boston. Irene was born in Japan of Chinese parents and attended an American school, so she speaks three languages fluently. I first met her at TBS when I was a programmer there. Irene started as computer operator but soon worked her way up to programmer/analyst and eventually became Head of the Software Department. She's not only intelligent, she's a very nice person. She treated me to lunch at an authentic Chinese restaurant. Instead of menus, the waiters and waitresses wheel around carts with various dishes on them. You pick out what you want, and the waiter marks it on a card. After lunch, we walked the Freedom Trail. Saw Boston Commons, Paul Revere's house, the Old North Church, Faneuill Hall (where the Tea Party originated), and many other interesting places. It was a beautiful sunny day.
A few nights later, I nearly fell over when Alison and Shirley suddenly turned up at the boat. Roy was supposed to have told me they were coming, but he forgot. They were on a whirlwind tour of New England. They had already visited Newport and walked the Freedom Trail in Boston. They spent the night on the boat and left next morning for Martha's Vineyard. Then they were going to Vermont and New Hampshire to see the autumn leaves.
I had been thinking of taking the ferry to Martha's Vineyard but hadn't gotten around to it. The day after Alison and Shirley left, I found my way to the ferry dock and learned that the last boat of the season would be running on Columbus Day, which was the following Monday, so I knew I had to get on the ball if I wanted to go. Phoned the AYH hostel on the island to find out if they had any openings. They said they had plenty, so I packed my backpack and got my bike ready. The next morning, I rode my bike to the ferry dock and bought round-trip tickets for my bike and me. It was a gorgeous day for the trip. When I got to Martha's Vineyard, I rode my bike to the hostel and was happy to see outdoor lockers where I could stash my stuff until the hostel opened at five. There are good bike trails on the island, especially around the State Forest, so I spent three days riding my bike around. The weather was warm and sunny all the time I was there. Had a really great time.
As soon as I got back to New Bedford, the weather turned rainy and cool, so I began seriously looking for work. Wrote two different versions of my resume, one for programming and one for (ugh) clerical work. My programming skills are obsolete, so I knew I wasn't likely to find anything in that field, and I didn't. Ended up doing dumb-dumb clerical work at a wage so low, I'd blush to mention it, so I won't. Even at that, I only found seven days' work.
We had a few more warm, sunny days, but then the weather turned cold. Fortunately, it was beautiful the day Marilyn came down for a visit. We ate lunch at the Huttleston House and then drove to Fort Phoenix, Sconticut Neck, and West Island. When we were at Fort Phoenix, we walked out on the hurricane barrier, which was built in 1965 and stretches for miles. Someone had told me people can tour the interior of the barrier where the machinery is that opens and closes the gates, so I phoned to see if we could tour it but was told there has to be a group of at least ten people for a tour, so that let us out.
In early November, there was a stretch of warm, sunny days, so I was able to do some sanding and varnishing. The boat really needed it. The tropical sun had eaten much of the varnish. What was left was peeling off, and bare wood was exposed. I didn't have enough good days to get six coats on everywhere, but just getting the old varnish sanded off and one or two coats of varnish on helped tremendously. The Jofian looks like the Jofian again.
Roy kept shipping cartons of tools and stuff to me, which I pulled home from the Post Office in the blue wagon. This meant he didn't have all that weight to carry on the return trip. His plane landed at JFK around seven a.m. on November 20th, but then it had to sit on the runway until five security guards arrived to remove an unruly passenger. It stayed there while big buses transported the passengers to the terminal. The luggage carousel kept breaking down, so there was another delay to retrieve baggage. By the time Roy was ready to leave the terminal, it was 10:30. I hadn't driven down to get him, because I would either have had to leave at two a.m. (expecting a seven o'clock arrival) or I'd have had to drive down the previous afternoon and spend the night at a motel, so it was easier and less expensive for Roy to take the bus. He arrived at the marina at quarter to five, just as I was going to the phone to find out what time the next bus from New York would get in. What a relief to see him!
On Sunday, Marilyn came down to meet Roy and have a chat with me before we left. Her husband was ill and couldn't come. We ate lunch on the boat. Marilyn gave us two delicious cakes that she had baked. We enjoyed a pleasant visit. The day was sunny and clear but quite cold.
Roy spent most of Monday putting stuff away and checking the engine, etc. He wasn't as ready as he wanted to be, but we left today anyway, because there was a favorable break in the weather. We got up at five and went through the bridge at seven. Motorsailed without incident to Point Judith, where we followed the narrow channel to Snug Harbor. Tied to the fuel dock, which was supposedly closed. We were told we could stay there overnight.

Friday, September 17, 1993 - JFK Airport

Got up at five and left about six. Excellent highways with no lights nearly all the way. We went over several of the bridges we'd sailed under a short time ago. Felt sort of strange.
Everything was going perfectly until we hit a traffic jam near New Haven that slowed us down to about five MPH. We'd left plenty early, so we weren't worried about getting to the airport on time; we were worried about my getting the car back to Avis on time. The rain was coming down pretty heavy by then, so even when we got past the construction work that had slowed down traffic, we couldn't go fast.
When we got to Bridgeport, the rain was coming down in torrents, and traffic was moving about 40 MPH. A big old car came up on my left, doing about 50. Just as he got next to me, he hit a big puddle and skidded out of control. In an instant, his front end was in my lane, sideways, just a few feet in front of me. I thought, "This is it." I didn't believe there was any way to avoid a collision, but I hit the brakes as hard as I dared and swerved as far to the right as I dared. The rental car had anti-lock brakes and didn't skid, but I nearly hit the vehicle on my right. Fortunately, its driver was on the ball and swerved to his right. Then the driver on my left (or actually in front of me) regained control and got back in his lane, and I got back in my lane, and we all went merrily on our way as if nothing had happened. That was the closest I've ever come to a really disastrous accident. If we'd collided in that heavy traffic, there could have been a fifty car pileup. It's incredible we all came out of it unscathed.
Roy told me later he hadn't been worried about being killed or even injured, but he fully expected a collision and figured he wouldn't be able to get to the airport in time to catch his plane.
The next rest stop we came to, we pulled off to relax for a few minutes. There was a McDonald's there (in fact, McDonald's and Mobil Oil must have bribed the State of Connecticut; every stop along the highway had nothing but a McDonald's and a Mobil station), so we went in and had a snack. Roy drank a cup of coffee, and I drank some orange juice and water. My mouth had been really dry.
In the restroom, I talked with a woman whose car had been two or three cars behind me at the time of the near miss, and she'd seen the whole thing. She said someone had sideswiped her car, but they couldn't stop.
Fortunately, the rain let up and traffic returned to normal. We crossed the Throg's Neck Bridge into the Bronx, expecting to see lots of signs directing us to Kennedy Airport, but we didn't see any. It's a good thing I'd studied the road map carefully before we left and knew we had to take the Grand Central Expressway, so we turned down that. Finally saw one tiny little sign for JFK, but it couldn't be seen until we'd already turned, so if I hadn't known where to go, we'd have missed it. A few miles later, we saw another tiny sign telling us to take Exit 17 for Kennedy Airport, so we did. We found ourselves in a residential neighborhood on a street that didn't look as if it could possibly go near an airport, but after several more miles, we saw a sign saying to turn left for JFK. After that, it was easy; the signs got bigger and more frequent.
When we entered the road into the airport, there were signs telling us which road to take to get to the various airlines. Tower Air, which Roy was taking, was at Terminal 1, color-coded green, so we followed the green signs to Terminal 1. Imagine our shock when we approached the terminal and the road was blocked off! The terminal was surrounded by police cars and fire engines, and they wouldn't let us in. We don't know if there'd been a bomb scare or a fire or what. We drove past the terminal on the outside road and saw a bunch of people standing around on the grass with their luggage. Roy wanted me to drop him off there, but there was a bus right in back of me, so I couldn't stop. I turned left towards the parking lot, and then saw another little side road that turned back towards where the people were standing, so I turned down it and stopped long enough for Roy to unload his suitcases. Then he crossed the street and joined the crowd, and I took off for New Bedford.
It was eleven o'clock when I left the airport. I'd been driving for five hours, and had to drive five hours back, half asleep. I stopped at the first McDonald's and drank a cup of hot chocolate to help me stay awake. I also opened both vents and blew cold air in my face. The rain had let up, thank goodness, but I hit the same traffic jam going back that we'd hit coming down. Nothing was moving, so when I saw an exit for the old Boston Post Road, I turned off on it. There were a lot of lights, but between lights traffic at least moved. After a few miles, I returned to 95, hoping I'd be past the construction, but instead I was right at the beginning of it. Eventually I got by it, however, and then traffic thinned out and rolled. Went through New Haven a little before two and reached Rhode Island by three. Figured I had it made by then, as long as I didn't fall asleep at the wheel or hit another traffic jam or get clobbered or whatever. I was afraid there'd be heavy rush-hour traffic going through Providence, but even though it was 3:30, traffic rolled smoothly on the freeways. Got through Fall River no problem. What joy when I saw a sign saying, "New Bedford 9 mis."! But then I had a new worry--the gas gauge was getting perilously close to empty and there wasn't a service station in sight. All I'd need would be to run out of gas a few miles from the New Bedford Airport, but she kept going. There were more signs for the New Bedford Airport than there'd been for JFK. As soon as I got off the freeway, there was a gas station. I turned into it and filled the tank. Actually, I should say the attendant filled the tank. They don't have self-service here, and gas is twenty cents cheaper than it is in California. The car took 12 gallons, which cost $13, so for a little more than $40, I'd driven all the way to New York and back.
I got to the Avis counter at 4:10, with twenty minutes to spare. What a relief to be out from under all that pressure!
Walked quite a ways to a bus stop and waited for a bus. The bus ride only lasted about five minutes, and then I had to walk another mile back to the marina. Got to the boat around six o'clock and collapsed in a little heap.

Well, that's it. The Jofian won't be going any place until Roy returns the middle of November, so the log will be put on the shelf until then. Adios.
(Since somehow it just happens that the next log begins Tuesday, Nov 23, 1993 and the Thanksgiving log for 1993 is on Nov 25th, as is Thanksgiving this year. I will post the next log this evening and continue.)

Thursday, September 16, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

The store Roy bought the generator from convinced him it's working correctly, so now the generator's back on the boat, but the electronics shop had to order the capacitor for the battery charger from California, so it will be several days before that's ready. Then I'll have to figure out how to lug a thirty-pound battery charger back to the boat. Oh well, I can always use the blue wagon. The tough part will be getting it up the stairs to the bridge.
I spent the morning typing up the back pages of the log. Everything's now on disk, ready to print. I got the printer set up and ran the self-test, which worked perfectly. We were both really impressed by the quality of the print, but I didn't have time to print any of the log before zooming out to the airport to get the car.
The bus that goes near the airport runs only once every two hours, so I had to take the 3:15 bus. There's no bus that goes all the way to the terminal, but this one let me out at the entrance road, and I walked the rest of the way--about a mile. Got there about five to four. I didn't want to pick the car up before 4:30, so I sat in the lobby until then. I had asked for the least expensive car they had and had been told it would be a sub-compact, but they gave me a really nice mid-range car for the same price. I even got an AARP discount, so it cost less than $30 with unlimited mileage. It's a bright red Chevrolet with less than 9000 miles on it. Drives beautifully.
I took advantage of having the car to go to the grocery store and stock up on canned goods and stuff. Also went by Radio Shack to see if the clerk had found out anything about the battery holder, but the one I'd talked to wasn't there, and the manager didn't know anything about it. He said to come back Saturday.
After supper, I began printing copy one of the log. The printer worked perfectly, but the software has some bugs, especially with the page numbering. I can get around them, though.
Last minute panic. Roy couldn't find his plane ticket! He was sure he'd put it in the camera bag, which he was going to hand-carry, but it wasn't there. No sleep until it's found. Fortunately, he eventually found it in the end pocket of the red bag he had put the camera bag into.
He finally realized that three heavy bags were a bit much even for him to carry, so he's going to leave the camera here. His tool bag alone weighs more than fifty pounds, and his clothing bag is too heavy for me to pick up. He's going to check those two bags and just take his backpack on the plane. But the fun is going to come when he tries to juggle all those bags on BART and the Richmond bus. I advised him to store the bags in a locker at SFO, go to Richmond and get his truck, and then come back for the bags. It will be interesting to see if he takes this advice. Probably not.
Since we have to get up at five in the morning, I had planned on going to bed at eight, but between printing the log and hunting for plane tickets, it was nearly ten before I got to bed, so I know I'll be beat tomorrow.

Wednesday, September 15, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

This is a very windy place. We were mighty lucky to have had that one calm morning in which to move the boat to the marina. It's been blowing like crazy ever since. That didn't stop Roy from going paddling, though. He paddled all over the harbor in the wind and waves.
He never did find the receipt for the battery charger, but he went over to the shop and got the number. They've determined that it needs a new capacitor, but they're not sure they have one in stock. They might have to send to California for it, so they don't know when they'll have the charger fixed or how much it will cost. Also, the new generator that Roy bought the other day might have to be sent back to the factory, so for now we have neither generator nor battery charger, but we have plenty of dockside electricity, so that's ok.
My throat is well again. It started improving yesterday and now is completely back to normal, thank goodness. My nose is still running and my eyes are still watering, but that's just a minor annoyance; the sore throat hurt.
My hair, that was butchered in Fort Lauderdale, finally grew out enough for a permanent, so I had one this afternoon. She did a really good job. Best permanent I've had in years. They still know how to give perms on the East Coast; in California, they charge twice as much and do a crummy job.
Roy and I crossed the bridge to New Bedford and strolled around. We were thinking of taking the ferry to Cuttyhunk tomorrow, but they just went on their winter schedule. The ferry now runs only on Tuesdays and Fridays.
Like most cities on the East Coast, New Bedford has a lot of old, old buildings, many of which have been preserved in quite good condition. New Bedford was the fourth largest port in the country and the whaling capital of the world during the 19th century. 10,000 men sailed on the whaling vessels. Towards the end of the century, gas, kerosene, and eventually electricity pretty much wiped out the whaling industry. Then large mills were built to produce cloth, but they went under in the depression of the 30's and are still standing vacant. I keep wondering how cities like New Bedford and Fall River manage to survive. There are a lot of large fishing boats here at New Bedford, but commercial fishing on the East Coast is practically dead, so I don't see how that could be enough to support this city, but I don't know of anything else here that would produce income. The whole place must be on the brink of collapse. One indication of the poverty is the fact that telephone calls are only ten cents! I could hardly believe it. It's been twenty years or more since I've seen ten-cent phone calls.
Roy bought a heavy-duty bag to pack the tools in that he's going to take to California with him. He's almost completely packed and ready to go. Tomorrow evening, I pick up the rental car at the airport, and early Friday morning we leave for JFK.

Tuesday, September 14, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

This was lost and found day. I couldn't find the notepad on which I had a lot of important phone numbers, addresses, and other information. Hunted all over the boat for it, and even went out to the public phone I'd used yesterday evening to see if I'd left it there. Of course, it would have blown away by now if I had. The last place I remembered seeing it was on the starboard berth. How could it have disappeared? I was baffled all day. Then, when I started setting the table for supper, I got the placemats out and there was my notepad between the mats! I'd scooped everything up together last night without noticing.
Roy has lost the receipt for the battery charger that he took to a shop yesterday. He was sure he'd put it in his wallet, but it wasn't there. We hunted all over for it. He thought he might have left it in the canvas bag he had used to carry the charger in, so I looked in the bag and guess what! I didn't find the receipt, but way down in the bottom of the bag, all scrunched up, was my long-lost Medicare card! How it got there, I'll never know. I'd given up long ago any hope of ever finding it. In fact, I went to Social Security in Baltimore and applied for a replacement. Now I'll have two Medicare cards. Lucky me.
Spent most of the day entering the old portion of the log into the computer. Roy rode his bike all over the place. We decided it would be better if I picked the rental car up Thursday night instead of Friday morning, so I phoned Avis and made a reservation for Thursday.

Monday, September 13, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

Warmer today but very, very windy. Glad we're at the dock.
Roy bought the new generator and sold the old one for $30. He tested the new one thoroughly. Everything worked fine except the battery charger output, which was only seven volts instead of fourteen, so he's going to take it back.
I walked to the AAA office to get info on air fare, train fare, and bus fare to New York. Roy's flying out of JFK this Friday at two. They didn't have information on bus fare. To fly, he'd have to go to either the Providence or Boston airport; there aren't any flights from New Bedford to New York. It would be about $10 cheaper out of Boston. Oddly, round trip is less than one-way. Doesn't make sense. He could get a round-trip ticket for $69. Amtrak is $41, but he'd have to go to Providence to catch it, and it would go to Penn Station in Manhattan, so then he'd have to take a cab or bus to the airport. I phoned Bonanza Bus Lines (there's no Greyhound here). The bus fare from New Bedford to New York is $34 one-way or $59 round trip, and the round trip is good for a year, whereas on the plane it's only good for 30 days. But the bus would go to the Port Authority Terminal in Manhattan, so again he'd have the expense and bother of taking a cab or bus to the airport. I phoned Avis and found out I can rent a car with unlimited mileage for $28 a day, so that's our best bet. It's only 200 miles to JFK, so I could easily drive him there in the morning and drive back to New Bedford in the afternoon.
Found a Radio Shack and went in to order the battery holder for my new printer. When I bought the printer in Great Bridge, the clerk sold me two cadmium batteries and a battery charger, but he said the holder would have to be special ordered. I didn't want to order it until we'd settled down in one place for a while. Now that we're going to be in New Bedford/Fairhaven for a few weeks, this seemed like the opportune time, but when the clerk told me it cost $60, I nearly fainted! I wish now I hadn't bought the batteries and the charger; in all likelihood, I'll only use the printer when we're tied to a dock and have AC. I had thought the holder would just be plastic and cost $10 at the most. When I asked the clerk why it was so expensive, he said it was a battery pack, not just a holder. Something is obviously wrong, so the clerk's going to run an inquiry on it. I left without ordering.
I went several places trying to get postcards, but the only ones I could find were 50 cents each, which is ridiculous. I also walked over to the Regional Transit office for information on the local buses. Got the schedule, which covers all the buses on one schedule but doesn't have maps. The senior fare is 25 cents with an ID card, which you get from the Council on Aging instead of from the bus company, so now I've got to phone them in the morning to find out which days they issue the cards.
Roy took the boat's battery charger to a shop to get it repaired. They'll have an estimate for him tomorrow.
My sore throat is worse today. If it isn't starting to get better by tomorrow, I'll take a bus or rent a car and go to Kaiser in Amherst or West Springfield. Those are the closest Kaisers in Massachusetts, and they're more than 100 miles away.

Sunday, September 12, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

Boy, did it get cold last night! Fortunately, this morning was calm and the tide was high, so we were able to take the boat to the marina without any problem, even though we touched bottom in one place, but it was soft mud, so we went right through it. So here we are, in my home for the next two months. The boat's securely tied, there's 50-amp electricity, and Roy rigged up the hose so I'll have running water.
I walked over to K-Mart and Shaw's super market. Stopped at a drugstore on the way to try to get some post cards, but they didn't have any. Neither did K-Mart. Bought as many groceries as I could carry and started back to the boat. In the meantime, Roy had put his bicycle together and ridden out to meet me. He carried the heaviest groceries back in his backpack. Then he returned to the store and bought more stuff.
The weather today was sunny but cool and brisk. I love this kind of weather. Everything would be great if it weren't for the fact I have a cold and a sore throat. I hope Roy doesn't catch it.

Saturday, September 11, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

Pope's Island Marina first opened in 1993, from New Bedford website.
A bright, clear, beautiful, cold, windy day. We walked across the street and made the arrangements to rent a slip for a week. They only had one slip available, so we were lucky to get it. However, with the wind blowing the way it is, we might not be able to get into it today, so Jay Jay showed us a mooring we could tie to until the wind dies down.
Ate lunch, turned in the keys at Pope's Island Marina, and waited a while, hoping the wind would die down, but it kept gusting around 20 knots. Since we'd gone into the slip bow first, we had a lot of fun getting out. Roy tied long lines to the stern and the bow. He let out the stern a few feet at a time and pulled in the bow. Eventually, the Jofian was crosswise to the slip. Fortunately, there was no one next to us, and it was a wide, double slip. Then he used the stern throw line to pull the stern around with the bow out. The maneuver went flawlessly, and we were soon out of the slip.
We had to go through the bascule bridge, which opens at quarter past the hour. We had just missed the 2:15 opening by five minutes, so we had to hang around in the harbor until 3:15.
When we finally got through the bridge, Roy tested the wind near the marina and decided it would be folly to try to go in, so we took the boat around the point to the mooring buoy. There's another California ketch not far from us.
Roy lowered his Royak and went paddling in the cold wind, but I opted to stay on the boat and work on the log. Roy chatted with the woman on the California boat for a while and then went in to town and walked around. He found a store that sells generators and has a really good one on sale for $425. Our old one is falling apart, so he's considering buying the new one.

Friday, September 10, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

We had planned on sailing to Boston today, but the weather forecast was for dangerous thunderstorms and small-craft advisories, so we decided to stay put.
Roy had determined that the source of the leak was the salt-water pump, so he spent the morning replacing it. I walked over the bridge to Fairhaven, looking for an ATM and a grocery store. We had a terrific thunderstorm. I love walking in the wind and rain--it's so refreshing. I was wearing my poncho, so most of me stayed dry.
Fairhaven looks the way I remembered it: a quiet, old, residential community. There were no ATM's or grocery stores in Central Fairhaven, so I returned to the highway and soon found banks galore. There was a power outage just as I was about to use an ATM, but it didn't last long. As soon as I got some moolah, I went looking for a super market. Had to walk quite a ways, but finally found a very nice, clean, attractive market with reasonable prices. If I'd had our little wagon, I'd have bought out the store, but since I was carrying the stuff, I had to restrain myself. Got what we needed most plus a few extras. Barely managed to carry it all.
After the groceries were safely on the boat, I phoned some marinas in Boston. One wanted $1170 for the two months. Another wanted an even more outrageous $35 per foot per month! Only found one marina that was in the ballpark; they charge $390 a month plus electricity. Then the dockmaster here told me the marine-supply store across the street has a small marina, so I checked over there. Nearly fainted when the manager said they charge $30 a week! That's only $240 for the entire eight weeks Roy will be gone. There's an additional charge for electricity, but only for what we use. They have nice floating docks and a small restroom and shower. There's no laundry, but the dockmaster at Pope's Island Marina said I could use the laundry there as long as the marina's open. Sounds like we've got a deal.
Went back to the boat and told Roy about it. We both walked over to the marina and looked it over. Talked with Jay Jay, the dockmaster. He's a really nice guy, who retired from the Police Department after 26 years, so we feel secure over there. He even said he'd drive Roy to the airport!
Roy and I walked over the bridge to New Bedford and walked around the waterfront a while. When we returned to the boat, Roy put on his diving gear and plunged into the murky water to clean the paddlewheel for the log (odometer and speedometer), so now we'll know how fast and how far we're going. It didn't take him long. When he got out of the chilly water, he took a hot shower.
We were still going to go to Boston to look over the situation there, but when I laid out the course, I saw it was farther than I had realized and would take two days to get there and two to get back. Assuming we spent one day there, that would take up five days of the seven left before Roy leaves. We know we won't find anything in Boston to compare with the $30 a week here, so why bother? We might as well stay here and spend these seven days having fun. We've also decided not to try to go to Nantucket with the Jofian at this time. That's a two-day trip, too, and if the weather was bad, we might get stuck there. We might go over on the ferry, though.

Thursday, September 9, 1993 - New Bedford, MA

New Bedford Harbor has a large, substantial hurricane barrier, with a gate that's closed when a hurricane approaches, so it sounded like a good place to keep the boat while Roy's in California. We arrived fairly early in the afternoon and tied temporarily to the Fairhaven Shipyard Marina. They charge $1.50 a foot by the day, but the monthly charge is only $375, and it's a fairly nice place, with floating docks, restrooms, showers, and laundry, so it's a decided possibility, but we still want to check out Boston. We tried to buy a chart of Boston Harbor here at the marina, but they didn't have any. They suggested we try the Gear Locker on Pope's Island. They said there was a new state marina on Pope's Island where we could probably tie up. That sounded good, so I radioed the marina to find out their rates, but they wouldn't give them over the radio. The dockmaster said there was plenty of water and plenty of slips available. He told us how to get there and said he'd be waiting on the dock for us. Sure enough, he was, and we tied to a very nice new cement floating dock, with 50-amp electricity. The restrooms and showers are clean and shiny, and there are two new washers and dryers. The daily rate is only $1 a foot, so we tied up for the night. This would be an ideal place to leave the boat while Roy's gone, BUT (why must there always be a "but"?) they close for the winter October 31st. What a shame! If they just stayed open two more weeks, everything would be perfect.
We took the dirty clothes up to the laundry and washed them. They came out really nice.

Wednesday, September 8, 1993 - Providence, RI

Mom's apartment as a child in Providence.

Gertrude's house.

Lincoln School

Got up early and caught the bus to Providence. We were at the transit company office at 8:15, but it wasn't open, so we had to wait around until twenty to nine. Went in to apply for our ID cards, but we found out you have to have been a resident of Rhode Island for at least six months to be eligible, so that blew that.
Took a bus downtown and transferred to the bus that goes out Elmgrove Avenue. When we first moved to Providence in 1932, we lived in a nice apartment at 148 Elmgrove. The building's still there, but it's been painted an icky yellow and the screened-in porches have been made into enclosed rooms. The big backyard has been ruined; there's an ugly pink building there now, and what was left of the grass has been covered with asphalt for parking spaces. Across the street was Hall's Drugstore, where I bought candy and popsicles when I was a kid. The old Piggly Wiggly grocery store was gone and so was McDonald's Drugstore. The house my friend Gertrude lived in on the corner of Lloyd Avenue is still there, but it's been painted white instead of yellow and the sun-porch doesn't have as many windows as it used to. I phoned the library at Brown University to see if Gertrude still worked there. The woman I talked with remembered her but didn't know where she is now. I lost track of Gertrude several years ago.
We walked down Irving Avenue to Blackstone Boulevard and Butler Avenue, passing the apartment building where my friend Marilyn used to live. We walked around the grounds of Lincoln School, which I attended from first grade through twelfth. They have added several new buildings, which ruined the campus in my opinion. The big old beech tree we used to play under is still there, however. The tennis courts looked somewhat neglected. Roy took some pictures of me in front of the school, and then we walked to Wayland Square and up the hill to Governor Street.
In 1935, when I was nine, we moved to 64 Governor Street, a much cheaper place than the Elmgrove apartment. Fox Point was a slum area then, full of decaying houses, but the Historical Preservation Society had fixed up the old homes, most of which were built in the early 1800s, so the area looks fairly decent now. The house I used to live in has new siding, and the wooden fence has been replaced with a chain-link fence. Otherwise, it looks pretty much the same.
We walked down John Street to Hope. Tierney's drugstore has been replaced by a restaurant. The Vernons' old mansion has been repaired to a considerable extent. The public library where I borrowed so many books is now an Historical Society library.
We walked past many lovely old mansions and Brown University. The First Baptist Church was open, so we went in there. It really is the first Baptist church; it was founded by Roger Williams in 1638, just two years after he founded Providence Plantations. The church building was erected in 1775, and the Declaration of Independence was read to the population of Providence from the front steps of the church the following year. We were quite impressed by our visit.
When we got back to the boat, we ate lunch and took off. Didn't have time to go all the way to New Bedford, so we anchored in a sheltered cove between Dutch Island and Conanicut Island. We saw some interesting ruins on Dutch Island, so we paddled over there to explore. There is a large, roofless brick building with many arches and a long cement building with very thick walls, as well as an old warehouse and some tiny buildings that could have been guard shacks. We speculated that it had been either a high-security prison or a fort, with ammunition stored in the cement building, which was built into the side of a hill. We wanted to explore more, but it was getting dark and the sky was full of rain clouds, so we scurried back to the Jofian. Read in the Waterway Guide that the buildings on Dutch Island had been a fort. We'd like to find out more about it.

Tuesday, September 7, 1993 - Providence,RI

Dorr Mansion, one of the estates owned by the lady who raised mom.
Ginny picked me up at 11:30 and took me to the Dunes Club in Narragansett. The Dunes Club is an ultra exclusive beach club for the socially elite and the financially secure. I had heard of the Dunes Club when I lived in Rhode Island, I might even have driven by it a time or two, but never in my wildest imagination had I ever dreamed of setting foot inside its sacrosanct gates, so I was surprised and impressed when Ginny took me there. Apparently, she has been a member just about all her life. The guard at the gate recognized her without hesitation, and she has her own cabana. We didn't go into the club house itself, but the cabanas were surprisingly Spartan. The outside was weathered, unpainted wood, and they certainly weren't luxurious, but they had a nice view of the beach and the ocean.
Connie Allen and Eleanor Whitney met us at the club. (I'm using their maiden names, because those are the names I'm familiar with.) We enjoyed a good lunch and then went for a swim. At least, Ginny and Connie went for a swim; I waded in the surf, and Eleanor, who hadn't brought a suit, watched from the beach.
It was fun meeting some of my old classmates after all these years. I'd been wondering if I'd recognize any of them, and if they'd recognize me. I'm sure we'd never have recognized each other if we'd passed on the street, but since we knew whom to expect, there was some recognition. Ginny had a nice scrapbook she'd prepared, with pictures and notes from most of the class, so we enjoyed looking at that.
Got back to the boat a little after three. Roy and I walked to the bus stop and caught the four o'clock bus to Providence. The fare was $1.40 each. We found out seniors can ride free between 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. and after 6, but they have to have an ID card issued by the bus company; no other form of identification is accepted, so tomorrow morning we'll go to the bus company office and get a card.
Providence looked surprisingly familiar after all these years. The name of Exchange Place has been changed to Kennedy Plaza, and it's now a bus transfer instead of a car parking place, but other than that, it's still the same big open space in downtown Providence. The old railroad station is still there but no longer functioning as a train station. The main post office has moved to a new location, but the old building is still there, and so is City Hall, which is still being used as city hall. The Industrial Trust Building, which always dominated the skyline, is right where I left it, although modern buildings have been built nearby. The "new" courthouse, built when I was a child, is still being used as a courthouse, and of course the historic buildings and homes are still where they were. The world-famous Rhode Island School of Design has spread all over the map, and so has Brown University.
Roy and I took the bus to the new main post office to see if there was any General Delivery mail for me, but there wasn't. Then we walked down Benefit Street to the Dorr Mansion, which had been Aunty Margarethe's house. I was hoping it would sometimes be open to public tours, but it's not. The Maurans live there now. Ginny Arnold told me yesterday she knows them and has been to the Dorr Mansion. In fact, Mrs. Mauran was at the Dunes Club when we were, but I didn't know it until later. If I'd known, I'd have asked Ginny to introduce us, and perhaps would have been able to wangle an invitation to visit the house. Roy would like to see it, too. When we return to Providence next year, I'll phone Mrs. Mauran and see if I can talk her into letting us see the house. I'm curious to know if the inside still looks the way it did when I was a child.
We strolled farther along Benefit Street and saw the old Athenaeum, which unfortunately had closed about an hour before we got there. Edgar Allen Poe used to write there. The fountain in front still runs pure spring water continuously. We both took a drink. Then we walked past the Stephen Hancock house (also closed) and down the hill to Kennedy Plaza, where we caught the last bus back to East Greenwich.

Monday, September 6, 1993 - East Greenwich, RI

Labor Day. We always seem to arrive places on weekends or holidays, when everything's closed. But at least I was able to contact my classmate Virginia Arnold and my childhood friend Marilyn Blake on the phone. Virginia's going to contact some of the others from our class and arrange a get-together for lunch tomorrow. She wants me to call her back around five.
Marilyn was very glad to hear from me. I told her what our plans are and that I'd have plenty of time to visit her when Roy's in California. She wants to meet Roy, too, so I told her I'd be sure she got to meet him when he returns.
Roy and I planned on taking the bus into Providence today to see the places I used to live and my old school and the Dorr Mansion where Aunty Margarethe lived. We walked up to Main Street, looking for a bus stop. Didn't see one, but some people told us it stopped in front of the hotel, but they didn't know if it ran today. We waited in front of the hotel, and I tried to phone for information but kept getting busy signals. Finally, we decided to walk to the super market. Someone had told me the bus stops there. When we were almost to the market, a couple of women showed us where the bus stop was, but they didn't think it ran on holidays. We sat at the stop for an hour, but no bus came, so I tried phoning again. This time I got through and found out the bus from East Greenwich doesn't run today.
We ate lunch at a busy ice cream parlor/luncheonette. Then we bought a few groceries and returned to the boat. I took a shower and washed my hair. Then Roy took a shower, and I worked on the log.
At five, I phoned Virginia. She lives in Greene, which isn't far from here, and she knows where this marina is. She'll pick me up tomorrow at 11:30, and we'll go some place for lunch. Connie Allen will be with us, too, and Ginny will try to get someone else. She said to bring my swimsuit, so it sounds as if I'll be busy most of the afternoon. Roy's going to ride his bike while I'm gone. He's looking forward to that. His knee has stopped hurting and seems to be fine, thank goodness.
There's a leak somewhere on the boat that's been getting worse. It only leaks when we're moving, not when we're tied to a dock. Roy adjusted the packing gland, and that seemed to help some but not enough. He'll keep looking until he finds the source.

Sunday, September 5, 1993 - East Greenwich, RI

House in East Greenwich where we lived 40 years before this log.

In the yard at house in East Greenwich one block from bay.

Greenwich Cove near house, less than one mile south of Norton's Marina.

What a lovely day! Sunny, clear, and relatively cool. There wasn't much breeze, so we had to motor most of the way, although we sometimes got a little assist from the sails.
Narragansett Bay! Rhode Island! This is where I spent most of my childhood. There were a zillion small sailboats out sailing around in the bay, but the wind was in the wrong direction for us. We motored to East Greenwich, wanting to go to Norton's Marina, which had received a very favorable report in the Facilities Guide and was only 75 cents a foot. I radioed the dockmaster when we were about twenty minutes away, and he said he'd meet us at the fuel dock, but when we got there, no one was anywhere around. We tied up anyway, figuring someone would show up later that evening or tomorrow morning. We wanted to get fuel anyway.
I was greatly disappointed by this marina. The Facilities Guide had made it sound first class, but in my opinion it's third class. The restrooms and showers are tiny and dirty, and so far I haven't seen any sign of a laundromat. The nearest grocery store is nearly a mile from here. There's very little hurricane protection. I'd been considering staying here while Roy's in California, but now I want to look elsewhere, probably in Northern Massachusetts or Maine. There are rarely any hurricanes up there.

Saturday, September 4, 1993 - Thames River

We didn't want to have anything more to do with the Harvard boat house, so we went back down the river. I talked with the Coast Guard on the VHF and found out the City of New London has a public dock near the ferry dock, so we tied up there. We couldn't find the dockmaster, and when I phoned the number on the sign, all I got was an answering machine. Other sailors said they didn't think there'd be any problem if we stayed there a few hours. The docks certainly weren't anything to brag about. In fact, some of them looked ready to fall apart.
I phoned the marina in Shaw's Cove to find out their monthly rates. For our boat, it would be $390 a month plus tax, about $413 altogether. Then I tried to phone the local bus company to find out how to get to the Nautilus by bus. There was no directory at the public phone, so I called Directory Assistance and got the world's dumbest information operator. She didn't seem to understand what I meant by "city buses" or "local buses" and kept trying to give me the number for Greyhound or other long-distance bus companies. Finally, she gave me a number that she assured me would give me information for the local buses, but when I tried to phone it, it wasn't even in that area code!
I gave up with the phone and walked towards town, hoping to find a bus stop sign that had a phone number on it. Fortunately, at that moment a bus pulled up nearby, so I asked the driver which bus to take. He told me to take #2, and he showed me where the bus stop was. He also said the bus was due at 12 o'clock. It was five to twelve then, so I zoomed back to the boat to get Roy, and we made a mad dash for the bus. The bus was a few minutes late, so we had no problem catching it.
The bus crossed the bridge to Groton and took us right to the Nautilus museum and memorial. Believe it or not, admission was free!
Both the museum and the Nautilus itself were very interesting, and we were glad we'd taken the time to go there.
When we got back to the marina, the assistant dockmaster was there. He was very friendly and pleasant. He didn't charge us anything for that afternoon, and he said if we wanted to stay overnight, he'd only charge us $20, even though the posted rate was $1.50 a foot (about $60 for our boat). He said they were very flexible. Roy asked about monthly rates (I wanted to hit him over the head). The assistant dockmaster said we'd have to discuss that with the dockmaster, but he was sure something could be worked out. Just then, the dockmaster drove up. I went back to the boat, while Roy discussed monthly rates with the dockmaster. There's no denying the price was right--$200 from the middle of September to the end of November, including electricity. But as I later told Roy, I wouldn't stay there even if it were free. There are no restrooms or showers, no laundromat, and the nearest grocery store is a mile away. Furthermore, there's no protection whatsoever from hurricanes, so we'd be defeating our own purpose.
We still had a couple of hours of daylight, so we motored to Fisher's Island, six miles away, and dropped anchor in a quiet, peaceful, attractive harbor.

Friday, September 3, 1993 - Thames River

Jofian tied to Fire Boat
Motored back down the Connecticut River and along the Connecticut coast to New London, then up the Thames River. Passed large drydocks, the Coast Guard Academy, and the U.S. Navy Submarine Base. Saw the Nautilus at her dock and a lot of other submarines, but we didn't see a good place to tie up or to land our Royaks; most of the banks were rock. Finally we saw a very small patch of beach next to the Harvard boat house. (The Yale-Harvard boat races are held on the Thames every year.) There was a "Positively No Trespassing" sign on the boathouse, so I didn't like the idea of going there, but it was the only place we'd seen where we could take our Royaks in, so we dropped anchor close to the beach and paddled ashore.
There were three guys on the dock. Roy talked with them. One said he was the caretaker and it would be okay to leave our Royaks there, so we left them on the dock and headed for the road. Somewhere in the back of my mind was a suspicious little doubt that this guy really was the caretaker, but Roy took him at face value, so I went along with it. We didn't see any bus stop signs, but luckily we met a boy who was knowledgeable about the buses. He was waiting for a bus, too. He told us what time the next bus would come by and where to catch it. Sure enough, the bus showed up when and where it should. It was too late to go to the Nautilus that afternoon, so we decided to go to a store instead.
Got off the bus near some stores. We were hot and thirsty, so we went to a McDonald's for shakes. Very good. Then we headed for the super market. Unfortunately, Roy's right foot slipped off the curb, and he went flying. He fell on his left knee and his hands. He managed to get up but could scarcely walk, so he sat and rested, while I bought a few groceries. Roy felt some better by then, so we walked over to the street where the bus ran. We sat on a wall and waited. We didn't have a schedule, but the boy had said the last bus ran at 6:55. We waited about half an hour, and then saw a bus going in the opposite direction. We figured we'd have to wait until the bus reached the end of the line, turned around and came back. It seemed to me we hadn't come very far and could easily walk back if Roy's knee felt okay. The bus could be flagged down any place, so we started walking. Roy was able to walk all right, although with some discomfort. Sure enough, we weren't far from the road leading to our Royaks. No bus came along, so we were glad we'd walked.
To get to the boathouse, we had to go to the end of a deadend street, cross a railroad track, and go down a dirt road. When the dock came into sight, we didn't see the Royaks, but we figured they were around the corner. Ironically, I had just said something about leaving the Royaks in a safe place. As we got closer, I said, "I don't see them." Suddenly Roy gasped and exclaimed, "They're gone!" What a sinking feeling to look at a totally empty dock where our Royaks had been! Roy had chained them together, so it didn't seem likely someone had stolen them, and the water couldn't reach them on the dock. Nevertheless, I looked under the dock and up the beach. Roy said, "Let's go up to that house and ask." It didn't seem likely to me that anyone in the house would know anything about the Royaks, but we went there anyway. A very nice old man answered the door. It turned out he knew the caretaker well. When I described the man who had claimed to be the caretaker, that wasn't the one! Fortunately, just then he drove up. The real caretaker had come by when he wasn't there and had locked the Royaks in the boathouse, not knowing that this guy had given us permission to leave them there. A few minutes later, the real caretaker arrived on his motorcycle. He unlocked the boathouse and returned our Royaks. What a relief!

Thursday, September 2, 1993 - Gillette Castle, Connecticut River

Emily has veered out to sea, but there are still small-craft advisories for rough seas, so we'll wait until tomorrow to leave. We're planning on stopping in Groton on the way to Narragansett Bay. The nuclear submarine Nautilus is on display there and is open for public tours. Groton is directly across the Thames River from New London, so I looked up both Groton and New London in the Waterway Guide. Came across a New London marina that provides excellent protection from hurricanes. It also has a grocery store, a laundromat, and is close to downtown New London. We'll check it out while we're there.
The Jofian is close to a small island that has an old abandoned house on it. We paddled over there to look at it. The place has been thoroughly trashed, but there's still a small airplane, a rowing scull, a lot of tools and books, and all kinds of other stuff. We looked around for a while, wondering about the history of the place, and then continued paddling up the river.
We had read in the Guide about an interesting place called "Gillette Castle" just a few miles up the river, so we went there. The castle itself is high on a hill, but we found a small ramp next to the ferry dock, so we pulled our Royaks up there and walked up the hill.
It was well worth the effort. The "castle" was built for a million dollars from 1914 to 1919 by the world-famous actor William Gillette (so famous I'd never heard of him). He was especially known for playing Sherlock Holmes. This was his dream home, and it is certainly unique. The exterior is stone, and the interior is hand-carved white oak. Roy greatly admired the craftsmanship and the quality of the wood. The house has 24 rooms, but only 12 are open to the public. The view of the river from the windows and the terrace is truly beautiful.
We ate lunch at a little sandwich place on the grounds. Then we strolled along some of the paths. Gillette's hobby had been a small train that he enjoyed taking guests for rides on. The train no longer exists, but the old trackbed is used as walking trails.
It was well past four when we returned to the Royaks and began paddling back to the Jofian. The wind was pretty strong against us. I had read in the Guide about Selden Creek, which sounded as if it might be a shortcut and at least would keep us out of the wind. I had noticed the southern end of the creek on the way up, but I wasn't sure where the northern end was. We turned into the first creek we came to. It kept twisting around and branching. After a while, Roy decided to go back to the river and return to the boat, but I kept exploring. Went down every branch there was, but on the last one, I ran out of water and had to turn back.
When I got back to the river, I checked the chart that I'd brought with me and saw there was another creek just a short way down the river, near a green buoy, so I paddled down there. By then, it was 6:30, only an hour of daylight left. I had to make a quick decision. If I went down the creek and it wasn't Selden Creek, I would have wasted a lot of time and wouldn't have a chance of getting back to the boat before dark. If I stayed on the river, fighting the wind and dodging power boats, I might just barely make it back in time. I ventured a short distance into the creek and saw a sign on the bank that said "Selden Neck State Park". That was encouraging. Next, I saw a sign on the bank that said, "MAX SPEED 6 MPH", so I knew I was on a navigable waterway. Then I rounded a point and saw boats at anchor or tied to docks. I was 95% certain I'd found Selden Creek, so I kept going, and I'm very glad I did. The creek was calm and quite straight, so I really made tracks. When I emerged at the other end, I was almost to Brockway Island, and it was only five to seven. I quickly crossed the channel to the west side of the river. Could see the Jofian about a mile away. Recognized her by her mizzen sail. The wind was blowing fairly hard, but I paddled as hard as I could and reached the boat by quarter past seven, with fifteen minutes of daylight to spare. I had definitely saved time by taking Selden Creek. Roy was overjoyed to see me.

Wednesday, September 1, 1993 - Connecticut River

Jofian tied to wall in Wilmington, Aug 18, 1993
Hooray, hooray! Emily is veering out to sea, and she only did minimal damage on Cape Hatteras. However, now Nantucket's in her path.
The generator has conked out again, so Roy worked on it while I paddled to Essex to get a few groceries. Essex is a lovely old New England town. I walked past a brick building that had a sign carved in stone saying, "Pratt's Village Smithy 1678". Then I passed Lt. William Pratt's house, 1732, and David Williams house, 1766. There was also a small preserve that was open to the public, so I strolled around it. Finally got to the grocery store, bought all the groceries I could carry, and lugged them back to my Royak. No sooner got there than Roy showed up. He was as surprised to see me as I was to see him. So he explored the town while I took the groceries back to the boat and put them in the refrigerator.
Roy passed a travel agency that had a sign out front advertising 25% discounted air fares until September 15th, so he went inside to inquire about fares to San Francisco and return. The woman was very nice. She spent a lot of time checking the various airlines and finally came up with a roundtrip fare of only $318. She had to go some place, so Roy came back to the boat and discussed it with me. I agreed it sounded like a good deal, so we paddled around a little and then returned to the travel agency in Essex. Roy got a ticket from JFK to SFO for September 17th, returning November 13th. So now we have a deadline and we have to think seriously about finding a place to leave the boat.
We paddled to the well-known hurricane hole of Hamburg Cove and talked with someone who was moored there. He said the moorings were free, to just help ourselves. Roy was considering leaving the boat there while he's gone, but I vetoed that in a hurry. The boat has to be tied to a dock in a marina, so there'll be dockside electricity to run the electric heaters; it's going to be getting cool during the next two months. I also need easy access to a grocery store, a laundromat, and buses so I can go wherever I want to. It would be nice if the area also had good radio stations, but that's a secondary consideration. Of course, the place also has to be reasonably priced. One possibility might be Norton's Marina in East Greenwich, where we're planning on staying when we're in Rhode Island. Their daily rate is 75 cents a foot, and their monthly rate should be a lot less.

Tuesday, August 31, 1993 - Connecticut River

Picture of Connecticut River posted by Ciao Ant on VirtualTourist.com
Pleasant morning. Somewhat cooler than it's been. No more flies, thank goodness.
We enjoyed the motorsail across the Sound and up the Connecticut River. Unfortunately, our charts only went as far as Brockway Island, so we had to drop anchor there, but we're thirty miles from the ocean, so we should be safe.
I paddled up the river a mile or so. Found a small yacht club that had a ramp and a public phone, so I went back to the boat, got my address book, and returned to the yacht club to use the phone. Talked with Kathy's and Linda's answering machines. Let them know we're in no danger from Emily. Asked Kathy to send my mail to Providence.
I wanted to phone Virginia Arnold Siener, one of my former classmates. She had organized the 50th reunion that I missed, and she had written me suggesting a mini-reunion when I reached Rhode Island. When I looked in my address book, I saw I had her address but no phone number, and of course I had nothing to write with, so I had to memorize her number when I called Directory Assistance. Fortunately, it was a very easy number to remember. Ginny wasn't in, but I talked with her daughter Liz and asked her to tell her mother we were holed up in the Connecticut River until the hurricane passed and the water calmed down.
It's so calm and peaceful here, it's difficult to believe there's a hurricane raging a few hundred miles to the south. I feel so sorry for the people in North Carolina. We were quite close to Nag's Head and Kill Devil Hills when we were at Belhaven. The people were so nice and the countryside so lovely. I hope there isn't much damage.
There's the most beautiful full moon tonight. It's a blue moon. The tide is supposed to be especially high tonight.

Monday, August 30, 1993 - Sag Harbor

Hurricane Emily is threatening Cape Hatteras and could come north to Long Island and New England, so we're looking for a hurricane hole. Roy studied the charts this morning and found what appeared to be a good one just a short distance away at West Neck Harbor, but according to the Waterway Guide, it's too shallow for our boat. After further study, Roy decided the best place was to stay right where we are, but when we went into town and talked with some knowledgeable people, they all said, "Don't stay here!" They told us that the breakwater is completely submerged during a hurricane, the downtown streets are flooded, and boats smash up by the dozens. They advised us to take the boat to West Neck Harbor, the very place Roy had thought of earlier. They said we could easily get the boat in and out at high tide. The yacht club dockmaster also suggested the Connecticut River as a good possibility. After considering for several hours, Roy decided on the Connecticut River, and I agreed wholeheartedly. On the river, we'll be much farther inland, there will be high hills protecting us from the wind, and there'll be plenty of room, so we're less likely to be slammed into by another boat. Small places like West Neck Harbor will be packed. A boat's greatest danger in a hurricane isn't from wind or waves but from other boats that have broken loose. So first thing tomorrow, we'll take Jofian to the Connecticut River.
This morning, we took a sack of dirty clothes to the laundromat. We didn't take everything, just what we needed most, especially underwear and socks. It was a very busy, crowded, hectic laundromat. While I washed the clothes, Roy went for a walk. He met an old-timer who remembered Ken Grabenauer and Sue Peters, Roy's girlfriend! He didn't remember Roy, however, even though they'd gone to the same junior-senior high school. Roy got a big kick out of talking with him.
We took the clean clothes back to the boat, ate lunch, and then returned to town. Roy phoned his son Steve, and then we walked to Roy's old school. On the way, we passed three old codgers who were sitting on a bench. Roy struck up a conversation with them. The youngest one was born the year Roy left Sag Harbor, but he'd had the same high school principal and he remembered a lot of other people Roy had known, such as the man at the dump who gave the kids free candy. The oldest codger remembered Sue Peters; in fact, he said he'd dated her. The guy in the middle didn't say anything; he just kept grinning with his oversized false teeth.
Roy went right to Pierson High School as if he were still in eighth grade. Except for a new addition, it looked almost exactly the way it did 57 years ago, but the dump across the street has been filled in and is overgrown with bushes and trees. It was a real thrill for Roy to see his old school again.
We bought a few groceries and took them back to the Royaks. Roy tried to phone Ken but just got his answering machine. I tried to phone Aunt Kitty (I don't know if she's dead or alive) but just got a "no longer in service" message. She'd be 97 years old if she were still alive, so she's probably either dead or in a nursing home.

Sunday, August 29, 1993 - Sag Harbor

Glorious day! Much cooler than yesterday, and much clearer. We could see the Connecticut shore on the other side of the sound. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the water sparkling. We even had enough breeze to sail by for a few hours in the morning. The day would have been perfect if it hadn't been for the flies. The boat was full of flies. We killed them by the dozens, and a thousand took their place. We couldn't figure where they kept coming from. They bit our legs with sharp, painful bites. They bit through socks, they bit through jeans. I put Off! on my legs, and that helped some, but not enough. All day long we fought flies. We could hardly get anything else done for the miserable flies.
We arrived in Sag Harbor around five. This is one of the places Roy lived when he was a boy. We wanted to tie to a dock here, but they wanted $1.90 a foot. That's outrageous! And it wasn't even a dock--it was a couple of posts. Then we asked about the moorings, and they wanted $30 a night! In California, we paid a lot less than that to tie to a first-class floating dock. But we've figured out why prices are so high here. The season only lasts a few months, from May to September at the most, so they have to make a year's income in that short a time, and they also have to make extensive repairs in the spring following the winter storms. In California, of course, the season lasts all year long.
We went to the other side of the harbor and dropped anchor (for free). Then we paddled ashore and walked around. The entire waterfront had changed since Roy was last here, and the house he used to live in was gone, but he recognized some places on Main Street. The old movie theater is still showing movies, and the old five-and-ten-cent store is still here, but I dare say their prices have probably increased a bit.
We ate supper in town and had some high-priced ice cream. By then it was dark, so we returned to the boat. Tomorrow, we'll see if his old school is still there.

Saturday, August 28, 1993 - New York

A miserably hot, humid, hazy day. Visibility about two miles. Severe thunderstorms were predicted for late afternoon and evening. We had to motor to Port Jefferson, arriving around 2:30. Tied to the non-floating fuel dock with some difficulty, as it was several feet above our heads. The fuel dock attendants were teenage kids. The boy was all right, but the girl was somewhat smart-alecky. The fuel was expensive, but we had to get it. Filled the tank and four jerry cans. Also filled the gasoline can for the generator. The bill came to $81.89.
The marina was full and undoubtedly expensive, and the mooring buoys cost $25 a night, so we went out past the mooring buoys and dropped anchor next to the mega-yacht "Platinum". The yacht's at least four times as long as the Jofian. It's so big, it has two helicopters on the top deck. I kid you not.
We were going to paddle ashore to get rid of the trash and buy a few groceries, but when we were nearly to the beach, Roy said, "Look at the sky in back of you." The storm was getting closer, and the wind was increasing, so we returned to the boat while we still could.
Roy changed the oil, and I worked on the log. Roy put the dirty oil in a plastic jug, and it leaked all over the engine room. What a mess! But he eventually got it cleaned up.
The storm didn't amount to much: a little lightning and thunder, some wind, and a few sprinkles of rain. The Jofian and Platinum swung around each other but didn't collide.
After supper, it was totally calm, so we paddled in to the launch ramp, got rid of the trash, and walked around. The village was crowded with people. I mailed some mail, but we couldn't find a grocery store, so we bought a quart of milk and a pint of orange juice at a deli. Roy had forgotten his billfold, but he had enough change.

Friday, August 27, 1993 - New York

Took the boat back to the marina where the barge was, but this time we went inside and tied to a dock. The man in charge was very nice. We told him we just wanted to use the dock to pick up some friends and drop them off in the evening. He said that was all right, but we might not be able to use the dock in the evening, because a charter boat usually tied up there. He also said they could leave their car in the yard. Roy paid him $10, even though he didn't ask for anything.
We phoned Bert to tell him where we were. He and Susan, his fiancee, arrived around noon. They're a very nice young couple. He's a physician and she's an RN. They met when they were working at the same hospital, but then she changed to a different hospital to quell gossip.
Bert has an interesting background. He was born in the United States of Turkish parents, but they returned to Turkey when he was only two years old, so he grew up speaking Turkish. He went to medical school in Turkey and practiced for a few years, but then he decided to come to the United States to learn English. Since he was born in the United States, he's a U.S. citizen, so he had no problem entering the country. He went to Berkeley, California, because he has a cousin there. That's where he met Anne Baeck; she's a volunteer ESL tutor, and she helped him learn English. When he could speak English adequately, he came to New Rochelle, where he's completing his third year of residency to become a surgeon.
We motored to Hempstead Harbor and tried to go up Glen Cove Creek, but it was too shallow. Roy was going very slowly, so when the boat touched bottom, he was able to back off. She touched bottom again when he was turning around, but again he was able to get her off.
There were a zillion boats at moorings. Roy was going to anchor out and see if there was a water taxi to take us ashore, but just then a water taxi from the yacht club came along. Since we belong to a yacht club, the operator told us we could tie to a mooring free for a few hours and he'd take us ashore and back no charge. He led us to a mooring and we tied to it. Then he took us to the yacht club dock. Everyone was very nice. The manager told us how to get to the village, so we walked up there. It's a pleasant little village on a hill overlooking the harbor. We ate lunch in an ice cream parlor that also serves soup and sandwiches. We had sandwiches and ice cream. Delicious! Bert treated.
When we got back to the boat, we put the Royaks in the water, and Roy taught Bert to paddle. Susan didn't want to try it.
The wind had come up, so we were able to sail back to City Island. Very pleasant. We were glad Bert and Susan were able to enjoy a sail.
They're going to be married September 18th, and Anne Baeck is flying out for the wedding.
As predicted, the charter boat was at the dock, so we tied to that miserable barge. When Bert and Susan were ashore, Roy and I sailed back to Hempstead Harbor and dropped anchor for the night.

Thursday, August 26, 1993 - Ellis Island

Another mystery solved! Roy found my long-lost sandals in the engine compartment. Apparently, they fell in when he raised the floor to get the big anchor out when he was attaching the Jofian to the wall in Wilmington, but he had too much on his mind to notice. The sandals are still in good condition; they didn't even get dirty or greasy. It's sure good to have them back now that it's turned hot again.
Roy dived and unplugged the paddlewheel for the log (speedometer). Now we'll know how far we've gone again. Then he paddled ashore, took a shower, and returned the key.
What a neat trip we had to Long Island Sound! We went under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge, one of the longest single-span suspension bridges in the world. We went by the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island, bringing back lots of memories to Roy, who returned to New York Harbor by troop ship at the end of World War II. We had a terrific view of lower Manhattan. Went under the Brooklyn Bridge and several other bridges. We had carefully timed our passage through Hell Gate so the current would be with us; it can run as high as five knots, so we zoomed along at ten knots through the Gate.
By the time we went under Throg Point Bridge and entered Long Island Sound, it was nearly five o'clock. We had planned on going to a marina at Davenport Point, but it was so late, we figured the marina offices would close before we got there, so we decided to go to a marina at nearby City Island. The first one we called on the VHF wanted $1.50 a foot. I can't understand why the rates on the East Coast are so much higher than on the West Coast, and most of the marinas aren't nearly as nice. We went to the next marina, but no one was there. Roy wanted to tie to a big barge out front, but it looked too much like the wall in Wilmington to me. We went around to the other side of the island, but two guys in a motorboat warned us there were a lot of submerged rocks, so we turned around and headed back into deep water. Then we decided to head for the Municipal Marina in Echo Bay, since Municipal Marinas are usually less than private ones.
I was at the wheel as we headed into Echo Bay, but Roy was checking the chart and buoy numbers, too. It was a very narrow channel, so I was proceeding slowly and carefully--in the wrong direction. The problem was, there were two sets of channel markers with the same numbers, so even though the numbers were right, the buoys were wrong. We rounded a point expecting to see a cove and the Municipal Marina. Instead we saw a vast body of water. Nothing we saw with our eyeballs resembled what was on the chart. The next buoy we came to was number 6; we were expecting 10. So we stopped the boat and charted our GPS position. We were a long way from Echo Bay! It was getting dark, so we dropped anchor where we were, next to Hart Island. There's a prison on Hart Island, so we couldn't go ashore. We had wanted to phone Bert, but it will have to wait until morning.