Monthly Archives: June 2014

Monday, 30 June

“Yeah, that’s Clingstone. Be’n thaih many times.”

Clingstone is a “peach” of a perch, with views of Newport, Jamestown and up-and-down the East Passage.

This from Patty, the yard manager at Dutch Harbor Boat Yard, as two sailors from Virginia rode with her to “downtown” Jamestown. Patty was going for “pots”—that is, engine parts—and the crew of Steadfast was along for the ride to kill time.

The door remains but the truck went out of service sometime ago.

Steadfast cast off from Newport’s Brenton Cove at 0725 and after rounding Fort Adams, motored into an 8-knot southerly toward Beavertail light (remember, the south end of Conanicut aka Jamestown Island). Despite an attempted repair Saturday, Little Red still didn’t sound right. Her vitals all were good, though—oil pressure, water temp and volts—and she kept pluggin’ along into a building chop off the ocean.

Once round Beavertail, though, it was a quick downhill run back to the pier at DHBY where Dave-the-Diesel-Guy would take a look. While Dave did his magic, skipper and mate made the trip “downtown,” checked out some local art and enjoyed an “ice coffee” and the harbor view from the Corner Deli.

Back at the yard an hour or so later, Dave reported the silencer problem is common, explained his repair and said Little Red looked fine otherwise. The boat was back underway by noon, with the idea of heading back to explore Newport. But once beyond the shelter of Dutch Harbor, it just didn’t seem worth it to waste a grand southerly by slamming into four-footers. So Steadfast turned north, heading instead to the snug harbor at Wickford, about six miles up on the western shore. The harbor channel starts at the breakwater which, from out on the West Passage, blends in with the shore. But the water remains fairly deep close in, at which point the entrance become obvious.

A private home for many years, the tower once marked the entrance to Wickford Harbor.

Once inside, two of the four town moorings were still open at 1600 and Steadfast settled in for the night.

As for Clingstone, your correspondent had the pleasure of visiting for a few minutes on a misty, blustery morning fifty-some summers ago! Patty’s description confirmed some still vivid images of that visit, its total independence from shore connections (cisterns for water, solar and wind for electricity) and the eccentricity of the owners.

Quite the story but just one of so many, it seems, that add to the charm of the islands and harbors of Narragansett Bay.

After all these years, what a blessing to be back among them.

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 29 June

“How cool is this?!”

Yep! Sailing Narragansett Bay is a great feeling!

The statement is from your correspondent, inspired by just his second sail on Narragansett Bay and first in fifty-plus-years. A southerly breeze fills all plain sail as Steadfast runs up the West Passage of Narragansett Bay, wing-and-wing, a lovely sight indeed.

Sails full and pulling Steadfast up the West Passage.

It’s been an interesting couple of days, the slog over from Block, the air filter / silencer falling off the engine (Little Red belches loudly without it), a Saturday stroll through lovely neighborhoods on Jamestown. And this morning, silently sailing off the mooring, perhaps the most enjoyable way to start a day under sail. The Dutch Harbor Boat Yard staff—they couldn’t be more pleasant, helpful or professional; a good group—already had promised to make room for Steadfast on the Monday service schedule, for an oil change and to look at the filter/silencer.

So the idea was to sail to Newport Harbor, exercise reciprocal privileges at Ida Lewis Yacht Club (check out Ida’s fascinating story on Wikipedia) and meet with Sandy and Steve Parks for dinner. Their son Josh would be in town, too, an added bonus.

Rose Island Light marks the island’s south end, just south of the Newport Bridge.

The couple of miles northbound to Conanicut Point were idyllic, running before a steady 12, gusting to 15 knots on occasion. Steadfast began to take off, as expected, as she reached around that north end of Jamestown. From there, it was a beat down the East Passage, tacking from the Newport side to Jamestown and back, past Gould Island, under the “new” bridge, by Rose Island, Goat Island and up to ILYC.

Ida Lewis once tended the light that is the core of the club that bears her name.

The club is built on Lime Rock, around the lighthouse that Ms. Lewis once tended, and staff and members could not be more welcoming, with an atmosphere not unlike that of Mathews YC. A great spot. There was dinner at Salvation Café with its eclectic décor, then a quick tour of downtown, the route to the Cliff Walk (for future reference) and a run round Ocean Drive.

But the day’s highlight is clear. After all these miles, sailing—not motoring, mind you, but coursing under sail—into Newport Harbor on one’s own keel: how cool is that?!

Steadfast out.

Friday, 27 June

Block Island’s a tough act to follow. After four days enjoying—and absorbing—the laid-back Block Island experience, going straight to Newport would be a bit of shock to the system. There needed to be an intermediate port-of-re-entry to “city life.”

Dutch Harbor on the west shore of Conanicut (Jamestown) Island was highly recommended and proved to be the perfect answer, in more ways than expected.

Though it feels far away, Dutch Harbor is just a short walk down the hill from dining, shopping and services.

First, though, there was the little matter of crossing Block Island Sound to run up the West Passage of Narragansett Bay. Normally a simple matter, a chill northerly this day turned the trip into a noisy slog, the bow frequently falling off a four-foot chop.

No matter. Those 26 nautical miles made it all the sweeter when Steadfast finally slipped between historic Dutch Island and Beaverhead Point and finally into flat water.

It’s not often two Com-Pac 27s are seen together in the same harbor, as Allure and Steadfast here at Dutch Harbor.

It wasn’t long before fellow Com-Pac owner Bruce Isidor brought his CP27 down from Fall River, MA, for a sight seldom seen – 27s moored side-by-side.

Fresh seafood, cool beverages and Red Sox TV are among the featured items at Chopmist Charlie’s.

Sailing stories ensued, whetting appetites for dinner at “Chopmist Charlie’s,” a 20-minute-walk up tree-lined Narragansett Street, with charming homes and gardens on either side.

Dutch Harbor’s a jewel and Jamestown’s worth more exploration, tomorrow. On a pace in keeping with “island-time.”

Steadfast out.

Thursday, 26 June

Sheets of gray late in the day layered over New Harbor.

Shrouds shriek and Steadfast dances around the mooring ball. Her bow swings from so’west to nor’east and, at the same time, what had been a bright evening sky darkenes and dark droplets dot the dodger.

The day dawned in dense fog. Block I. was under bright sun by noon. But now mates, at just 1700, it’s shaping up to be a dark ‘n stormy night! Arrrrrrrrrrrgh.

Neighbors remained but the shores of New Harbor disappeared overnight.

With the horn at North Light still baying at 1100, the decision was made: this would not be the day to cross to Narragansett Bay, a decision affirmed later as radar (ain’t the Accuweather app great?!) showed all of Little Rhody’s 2,400 square miles covered with green and yellow.

Up Beach Road, a clam shell drive curves to the clouds.

But here on Block, the change in plans meant time for a brisk walk up the hill, just for a stretch of the legs. And that, of course, meant more stunning views, no matter where one looked, even under the boughs of a peach tree.

A deer dawdles in the shade under the spreading arms of a fruit tree.

The new electric outboard has proved to be a boon in port.

Meantime, the new Torqeedo electric outboard continues to change life aboard. The oars have yet to touch the water this trip while Torq smoothly zips the dink and two (or one, as the case may be) crew back and forth ‘tween boat and shore regardless of wind, wake or current. And when the sun’s out, the boat’s solar panel charges up the Torq battery in an hour or so. Good stuff.

But then, this is Blah Ki-lan, Ah-Rye. Waddya ‘spect?

Steadfast out.

Wednesday, 25 June

How does one adequately describe Block Island, RI? Yes, it’s different. Certainly it is “special.” The Nature Conservancy has listed Block as one of “The Last Great Places” in the Western Hemisphere, so yes, it is special.

To experience that uniqueness to its fullest—the hills, harbors and homes, ponds and people, Bluffs, beaches, blooms and beautiful views—the decision was made to forego scooters and go pedal-power.

Here’s some of what was seen along the way, from New Harbor to Old Harbor, North Light to South Light and as much in between as these old knees could manage.  Enjoy!

At the entrance to Great Salt Pond, Coast Guard Station Block Island is now listed as “inactive.”

It’s too early in the season, meaning too many empty moorings and slips, for Aldo to make his morning rounds.

Nothing dries the laundry quicker than a fresh ocean breeze.

There’s still plenty of room to build on Block but code restrictions have limited growth.

From the top of Mohegan Bluffs, the view of the Atlantic is stunning.

Though surrounded by salt water, there are dozens of fresh water ponds all around the island.

Homes shrouded in morning mist look out over a pond on the north end of the island.

Part of the fleet passes the breakwater at Old Harbor during the round-the-island event that is part of BI Race Week.

Your tax dollars at work: Weather Station Block Island is headquartered in one of the few clapboard structures here.

With the point eroding, the entire South Light structure was moved back 200′ at a cost of $2.5-million, and the bluff keeps eroding.

Sun. Breeze. Block Island. Who wouldn’t be smiling’ through the day?

Mansard roofs are many among the vintage homes and hotels on the Block.

At least in late June, the water is as clear as any place in dee I’lons, mon.

Monday, 23 June

“Good afternoon and welcome to Block Island.” Steve the Harbormaster pulls his launch alongside and asks, “So how long do you plan to stay? The rest of the season?”

It’s good to know that dry New England sense of humor remains undiminished even into the 21^st century.

That is to say, he was kidding wasn’t he?

A three-masted schooner under full sail is a sight to behold.

Maybe not! After all, who wouldn’t want to spend the summer here? Great Salt Pond is a remarkable harbor and Block a destination unlike any other, close enough to the mainland to be within easy reach yet far enough to retain its unspoiled charm.

The light at Latimer Reef is easy to spot half-way down Fisher’s Island Sound.

A quick perusal of Eldridge indicated a midmorning departure from Mystic would give Steadfast a good boost on the trip over and Eldridge was right on. Steadfast slipped her mooring at 1058—a bit later than planned—and slid down the river to Green-1, came left to 110 magnetic and enjoyed a 7-knot run up Fisher’s Island Sound. Water speed never got much above four-and-a-half while the GPS consistently registered in the upper 7s, topping out at 7.9! One does well to check Eldridge before transiting Fisher’s Island Sound.

The current stayed fair, though not quite as impressive, as Steadfast held to a heading of 130 all the way to the red buoy marking the entrance to Salt Pond.

The day-one racing took place just south of the entrance channel to Great Salt Pond.

It being late June and the start of Block Island Race Week, it seemed reasonable to expect the harbor to be busy. Contrary to logic, the anchorage and mooring fields are less than half full and the piers at Champlin’s Marina look all but empty, not at all the way it was when Steadfast was here Labor Day weekend two years ago.

Having arrived by 1430, there was time to put the Torqeedo outboard to work once again for a quick run to the Boat Basin dinghy dock, then a walk around the harbor and over to Crescent Beach. Having worked up a parch on those dusty roads, a stop at The Oar was in order before making the trip home.

Rocky fields yield stone walls, on Block as through all of New England.

The real exploration will be by bicycles tomorrow when it’s hoped the island’s entire length can be covered, from North Light through Old Harbor and on to Mohegan Bluffs. If completed, a round-trip of this sort may necessitate another stop at The Oar at day’s end.

Then again, what’s the hurry.  We could just stay here all season.

Steadfast out.

Sunday, 22 June

“You’re listening to Red Sox baseball on Sports Radio one-oh-three-point-seven, Providence – Westerly, W-E-E-I, on the Shaw’s Radio Network.”

Ah, yes, we are.  The sun glistens on the Mystic River.  The siren sounds as the railroad bridge swings open as another handsome yacht motors up stream.  And the the parade—and the rest of the Mystic harborside vista—are enjoyed from some of the most cost-efficient waterfront property in New England: aboard Steadfast, the little yacht all the way from Hallieford.

Several times a day, a handsome antique ferry leaves the Seaport pier for a tour of Mystic Harbor.

Yep.  Doesn’t get much better than this.  A delightful denouement to a day of discovery.

After breakfast aboard, the Torqeedo electric outboard was re-assembled (shaft, tiller and battery) with care after her initial service this trip last evening.  The 20-minute trip past mooring fields and marinas to the downtown Mystic Park dinghy dock began.  Once there, the battery stowed in a backpack, there was a short walk across the Main Street Bridge to the bookstore to procure transportation.  Better yet, Luke at the bookstore graciously agreed to have the Torqeedo battery left there plugged-in for a quick re-charge!

A $10 refundable deposit is all it takes for a bicycle and helmet and a great day exploring Mystic.

Mystic—an infinitely “bike-able” town—has it going on!  The bikes and helmets are rented without charge.  There are some steep grades west of downtown but mostly the area’s flat with a few rises here and there.  So…

New colors for the 4th!

It was off to Worst—ahem, make that West—Marine (again) for an item or two.  For instance, the ensign purchased on Independence Day had begun to fade and wouldn’t do for the celebration of the Fourth this year.  There was a brief walk-through at Marine Consignment of Mystic that yielded a new 80-cent thimble for the dinghy painter.  Big deal.  Many colonial-era homes and their yards admired.  And, yes, a stop at another clam shack for lunch.  (Are you beginning to sense a theme here?)

A cone of home made ice cream at the Bridge Café tempted, until the menu disclosed the charge of four-bucks for a (one, single) scoop.  Hmmmm.  Maybe next time.

Back to the town dock, the dink was boarded and the trip ‘home’ begun.  There was time along the way to admire a couple of stunning yachts tied up at Fort Rachel Marina before slipping under the swing bridge and crossing the channel.

It’s a bit of a hike up from the historic seaport but the taste of the ocean–and the view–make the Sea View well worth it.

Back aboard the “big” boat, the parade continues—even at 1800—and the Sox lead.  With the promise of good “grits” at Block, dinner tonight will be on board.  Eldrige indicates a mid-morning departure will yield a fair current tomorrow with Great Salt Pond the goal.  But for now…

“…this IS the Red Sox Radio Network.”

Steadfast out.  (brought to you by Verizon, the official phone provider of the Red Sox.)

One of many stones that date to the 18th century or earlier give mute testimony to the town’s age.

Saturday, 21 June, Summer Solstice

Hark now, hear the sailor’s cry.  Smell the sea and feel the sky.  Let your soul and spirit fly as we sail into the Mystic.  Van Morrison

For a gal from Kentucky or a guy from Rhode Island, it’s difficult to describe the feeling that goes with piloting the Mystic River on your own keel. For one, this is the New England she’s been waiting to see, the weathered shingle homes perched on massive granite slabs, buildings and monuments that pre-date the Revolution, museum-quality wooden yachts that conjure names like Alden and Herreshoff.

For him, it’s just good to be back, back to New England, to two-lane US-1 and roadside soft serve where clams are “Famous,” the Red Sox on the radio and “Hi, neighbor, have a ‘Gansett.”

The reputation of the whole bellies at Sea Swirl are well-deserved.

So, if there’s a question, the answer is yes, this was a great day. Preceded by an interesting night.

That anchorage at Duck Island Roads is recommended. Get in between the breakwaters as close as you dare—the chart shows four-feet at low water—and the bottom’s good holding and you’re safe from the ever-present swells and wakes from Long Island Sound. There is a current though, more than a knot’s worth, that you know will turn every six hours or so. And when the wind shifts and pipes up, well that’ll tend to rouse a body from his bunk, it will.

But Steadfast stood fast though the night, her anchor aweigh at 0910 this morning—the longest day of the year, remember—and off she went toward Crane’s Reef, where she came left to 095 magnetic and proceeded just north of the six-mile Long Sand Shoal. Having caught the fair current, the shoal’s east end was made in less than an hour. (That’s right, Steadfast was moving at just five-plus through the water but over the bottom, at speeds north of seven knots. Sweet!)

Past Falkner Island, Niantic, the New London ferries and on into Fisher’s Island Sound to North Dumpling, where the man who invented the Segway has built his own independent “empire” of sorts.

North Dumpling is its own little grid-independent kingdom, complete with a replica of Stonehenge.

You might cross the wakes of “big boats” racing on the sound or need to cut back across the wake of a big sportfisherman. Boats of all sizes and dispositions are likely to be encountered on these waters on a summer Saturday.

The light at Noank is a classic.

From the Dumplings, it’s a straight shot up to the green can that marks the entrance to the Mystic River, aptly named because things mystical occur within its courses.

Yes, let your soul and spirit fly, indeed!

Steadfast out.

Friday, 20 June

One rests while another gosling grazes under mother’s watchful eye.

An omen, perhaps?  Goslings grazing on the west bank of Milford Harbor.  Only time would tell.

After an early walk up the hill for a cup of “real” coffee, there was time to scrub the bottom of the dink (amazing how cruddy it gets in just a month) and adjust the stuffing box (ah, now that’s a fun job).  And then underway from Milford Landing about 1115 and out the Harbor at a crisp 6-plus-knots.  For awhile.

Once out of the harbor, Steadfast turned left to 095-degrees magnetic and pretty much spent the day heading pretty much dead east.  There were a couple of delightfully quiet hours of straight sailing—no rumble of the diesel—and then, as the wind backed to the west, motor-sailing and eventually it was just all up to Little Red to push her along at an average of 5.5 through the water.  But because of a foul current for much of the day, that equated to just 4.8 knots over the bottom.

Though not far off the Connecticut shore, Falkner Island seems to stand alone against the elements.

Rounding Stone Island Reef, the speed picked up a bit for the last mile or so into Duck Island Roads, just off Westbrook, CT, where the anchor was down for the night at 1718.  And yes, though the weather was fair and the day not difficult by any means, the “omen” was borne out – Gosling’s was poured for a “Dark & Stormy” night.

With the sun setting, half a dozen more boats slipped into the anchorage for the night.

The plan is to weigh anchor by mid-morning for a run east to Mystic.  The forecast would indicate that Little Red should rest tonight.  She’ll have a long day tomorrow.

Steadfast out.

Wednesday & Thursday, 18 & 19 June

The sign says “Town of Milford” but, this evening at least, it might easily be confused with the fictional town of Bedford Falls. Couples stroll the sidewalk along Main Street. There’s a line in front of “Scoopy’s Ice Cream.” And a fife and drum corps rehearses on The Green.

The Milford Fife & Drum Corps practices on The Green, piping the “Star Spangled Banner” as a perfect coda to the day.

The sky had been right blue. Gorgeous sun. Fifteen out of the west, gusts to 20! A perfect day to head east up Long Island Sound.

That was yesterday. But instead of shoving off as planned, the day was devoured by one of those infamous 45-minute-boat-projects, as in, “Aw, we can knock this out in a half-hour, 45-minutes at the most.”

So it was the locker behind the stove was cleared, a teak batten removed, trim strip pried off the counter, and the white panel removed to reveal…not what was expected. Of course not. The Hutchins Company builds it right, builds to last.

The problem was of the owner’s making, having tampered with the track a few years back. The forward end recently began to lift. Not good, especially not when one wants to set a Genny in 15 knots out of the west.

The wind beckoned but bolts for the track were not yet accessible. There still was hull liner to peel back, a 2” wide tack strip to pull off and then, only then, might the bolts be replaced. At which point, it became clear there’d be no sailing this day.

A picturesque waterfall tumbles under Main Street feeding the stream that becomes Milford Harbor.

Instead, there was the half-mile walk to West Marine for nuts and bolts and parts for two other projects. There was a break for lunch and further mapping of strategy. And so it was new bolts were in—with stretching, twisting and bending to test a yogi—the track re-bedded, and the galley again good-to-go…at 1600, a mere seven-and-a-half hours after starting.

That project begat another, less demanding one, easy. But that repair revealed the need for yet another issue to be addressed. So…

Steadfast never got out of the slip Wednesday to take advantage of those ideal conditions. When she did leave Stamford today it was gloomy. Overcast. Light rain fell as it had off and on since not long after midnight. Not ideal but, undaunted, her intrepid crew shoved off anyway and was rewarded with a great day.

Once Steadfast was past the breakwater and submerged rocks called The Cows, she came left to a heading of 077 magnetic in hopes of making Milford some 30 miles away. An hour out of Stamford, a foul current became fair and she skipped along at 6-plus knots before 10 out of the so’west. Then 12, then more, enough to coax out the Genny and push speed-over-ground as high as 7-and-a-half, even while Little Red loafed along at just 2100 RPM!

The municipal pier at Milford Landing is close to downtown and a great value.

Rounding Stratford Point, the sun emerged from the clouds and, waddya know, up ahead was the channel to Milford Harbor where the breakwater becomes the gateway to the quaint New England towns of books and movies. And a short walk up to Main is rewarded with the first plate of fried whole-belly Ipswich clams in two years, every bit as delicious as remembered.

A Sam Adams Summer ale is the perfect complement to whole-belly Ipswich clams, a specialty of the Stone Bridge Inn on Main Street.

There’s a lot to like about Milford.  Granted, there’s no Jimmy Stewart. No Donna Reed. But Milford may as well be Bedford Falls.

Certainly, for those sailing into this little town on the Connecticut shore, “It’s A Wonderful Life”.

Steadfast out.