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!
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