August 31, 2010 - End of Summer Cruise, Take Two

When the weather finally cleared up on Thursday, we headed back out to Block Island. Picking right back up where we left off, before we were so rudely interrupted by the Northeaster, Sten resumed fishing for Stripers and we headed back to the beach for some quality body surfing. Now this is what the end of August in New England is supposed to be like!

Our days out at Block were filled with friends and family. Sten's cousin Scott and his wife Chris arrived within a few hours of us on their vessel, Valhalla. Scott a consummate clam digger. We were more than happy to slurp up his harvest raw, but when Suzy arrived on Saturday, she put her own touch on the proceedings and turned Scott's bounty into some seriously tasty clams casino (recipe below).

When we arrived we got in touch with our buddy Bill, who invited us out to a bonfire on the beach in front of his place on Friday night. As we roasted marshmallows over the embers we watched a giant orange harvest moon rise out of the ocean. At the end of the evening Bill offered us his car (rather than driving us back to the Salt Pond).

The next morning we took advantage of having a set of wheels and set off on a driving tour of the island. Our first stop was Mohegan Bluffs. We couldn't believe how much the shape and composition of this beach has changed since we were last here. 13 years ago we spent a week laying on the sand here, soaking up the sun. Now there is barely any flat sand left at high tide.

From the Bluffs we continued on around the south side of the island. With hurricane swell in the forecast Sten was keen to check out potential surf breaks. That's how we found ourselves at the bottom of a steep, slippery and muddy path down to the shore, in the company of 8 other guys all looking at a few ripples in the water. But all of them, Sten included, had an excited gleam in their eyes as they scanned the coast just imagining the peaks that would be breaking once the surf picked up.

Shortly after noon we headed back to Old Harbor to pick up Susan. And then it was off to the beach to hang out with Scott and Chris and enjoy the rest of a gorgeous day. Sunday brought more of the same, but our enjoyment was tinged by the knowledge that a hurricane by the name of Earl was forming that had the potential to make its way to New England by the end of the week. And so we all began monitoring the weather and talking about it. And talking about it. And talking about it. If there is one thing that sailors love to analyze and discuss, it is serious weather.

On Sunday afternoon Sten took a break from the weather analysis and went fishing. He came back with an absolutely huge Striped Bass. At first he was a little hesitant to tell us how he caught it, but eventually we got the story out of him.

It seems that he was working the waters off the southwest coast, having absolutely no luck catching anything. He had started to head back to the harbor when he saw a disturbance on the surface. He sped over and found a big old Striper choking on a scup.

Now, I've been asking Sten to bring home a Striper for weeks. He keeps throwing them back, claiming that they are too magnificent to keep. And so what does he do when he comes across one choking to death? He tries to save her life.

First he grabs a pair of pliers and pulls the scup out of the Striper's throat. Then he starts moving the Striper through the water to try to resuscitate her. Only when he's convinced that she is too weak and too far gone to save does he actually decide to bring her home for dinner. She was big enough to feed us, Valhalla and our neighbors, Jake and Marni on Avalanche.

No trip out to Block Island would be complete without sampling one of their famous mudslides. And yet somehow this was my third visit of the summer and I hadn't had one yet. It was a situation that needed to be rectified post haste. So on Sunday night we made our way down to Mahogany Shoals to take in the Reprobates 10th annual farewell tour (good practice for their 11th farewell show next year).

On our way back to the dock in front of the Oar, with bellies full of creamy, chocolaty, boozy, frosty goodness, we came across a very stoned surveyor who was using his equipment to check out the moon, which was hanging very low in the sky. The relative lack of light pollution out at Block makes it a wonderful place to stargaze. Peering through his scope we got to see features of the surface of the moon that we'd only read about before.

We had wanted to spend the whole week out at Block and then push on out to Martha's Vineyard or Nantucket. But with Earl heading towards us with the possibility of making landfall at the end of the week we had to decide whether to hunker down in Block or return to Newport. The forecast on Monday was more dire than those over the weekend. On Tuesday afternoon Suzy decided to return to Newport via the ferry to get her house ready. Sten and I decided to wait another day before determining whether it was necessary to head back to our mooring in Newport Harbor.

One of the traditional family outings on Block is to play bingo at the fire house on Tuesday nights. The hall is filled with children still sandy from the beach and their parents looking relieved to have something for them to do after dark. And since we are worldly and sophisticated thirty somethings without children, that's exactly where we spent Tuesday night.

Sten and I picked out some cards from the pile, bought a dauber and a roll of giant sweet tarts (because really, can one play bingo without being on a sugar high?) and a bottle of soda. I apparently chose terrible cards. I didn't come close to winning a single game. But Sten, well, Sten should have played the lottery on Tuesday.

The first time he called out bingo it was just on the heels of a little boy at the table next to us. They both had 5 in a row, so they pulled cards for the tie breaker, which Sten won. They both got prizes, but he got the big one (two free bike rentals) The next time he called out bingo it was a tie with a little girl. Luckily she won the horseshoe set and he took home the gift certificate to the pub.

By the last game of the night the four boys at the table next to us were giving Sten dirty looks. When I looked at his cards and saw that he was one draw from another bingo I leaned over and whispered "if you win another game those boys are going to be waiting for us outside with their wiffle ball bats." So Sten surreptitiously slid his card over to me. Within two draws I was shouting bingo and walking up to the front of the hall to claim my gift certificate to the airport diner.

On Wednesday morning we woke to discover that the models were showing Earl tracking closer towards us. And so we decided to head back to Newport and prepare for the worst.

August 22, 2010 - End of Summer Cruise, Take One

Similarly snotty conditions one day last month in Newport Harbor

So, that didn't go according to plan. When we left Newport for Block Island on Saturday morning we expected to have two days of nice weather out at Block before some badness came through on Monday. Instead, we had one niceish afternoon. And then the rains came.

On Sunday morning we woke up to find that it was cold and gray and drizzly, instead of the forecast warm and sunny day we were expecting. While watching a parade of boats heading out the Coast Guard Cut in the Great Salt Pond, we realized that perhaps they knew something we didn't. After listening to small craft warnings and predictions of days of dreariness ahead I downloaded some fresh grib files. The gribs showed that a low pressure system was going to park over southern New England for several days, generating high winds and plenty of rain.

Over breakfast we decided that sitting at anchor in the rain and protecting our home from dragging boats didn't seem like much fun at all. So back to our secure mooring in Newport Harbor we came. It was a rough, wet, and wretched trip back, but at least it was short. And now I'm ensconced in a cozy kitchen, drinking a hot cup of tea. Ah, the joys of coastal cruising.

August 20, 2010 - Middletown, RI

How on earth did it get to be the middle of August? Can we really have been home for two months already? It feels like we just tied up to the dock at Goat Island last night.

Between working on my sister's house, hosting friends on board Mata'irea in Newport, and visiting with family and friends in New England, D.C. and Philly, we've managed to studiously avoid making any plans for the rest of our lives, or even for this fall or winter. We started to feel a little stressed about that, but then we realized that it was August. Summer is almost over.

The last two weeks of August is no time for making plans. It is the time for drinking iced coffee, eating lobster rolls and ripe tomatoes still warm from the garden, swimming in the ocean, and fishing for dinner. And so we are off for another little cruise of the islands. We will figure out the rest of our lives when the leaves start to turn.

July 30, 2010 - Cuttyhunk Island, Massachusetts

On Tuesday, while enjoying our picnic lunch at Mackerel Cove, we decided that since the weather was so nice and since we just happened to have a sailboat, we should do a quick trip out to the islands. So on Wednesday afternoon we stocked up at the farmers' market on Memorial and filled out our grocery list at Stop & Shop on Bellevue. Then we met up with Suzy, who was loaded down with a cooler full of goodies from her kitchen. And then the three of us caught the launch out to Mata'irea.

Out in the harbor it was immediately apparent that the southerly had gotten stronger while we were ashore and that it was shifting to the west. We decided that it was too late to beat out to Block Island, and that motoring into 15 to 20 knot southwesterlies would be a miserable way to spend the evening. And so we decided to take a left.

One of the joys of sailing out of Newport is that there is a wonderful cruising ground at our doorstep. With Block 20 miles to the southwest and the Elizabeth Islands, including Cuttyhunk, Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket, to the southeast, there is a viable option for any wind direction. And so last night we came out of the Narrows and headed east to Cuttyhunk.

After about three hours of sailing east, we came to the edge of the known world, at least as far as our chart plotter was concerned. We haven't yet bought the electronic charts for the area north and east of Block Island. We've done some sailing these past few years without electronic charts, but it has always been in deep water, far from land.

Navigating in shallow water with paper charts makes me nervous. I haven't done much of it. Without the plotter showing me where we are relative to the dangers, I have to do a lot more guesswork and that makes me anxious.

The wind was honking and we were flying as we approached the buoys marking the shallows around Cuttyhunk. We didn't leave ourselves a lot of room to furl in the jib and douse the main. The jib sheets flogged against the lifelines as we furled in the sail. I dodged lobster pots as we turned up into the wind (and towards the shoals) to drop the main. By the time we had picked a spot to anchor outside Cuttyhunk Harbor, I was a little strung out. It was getting dark and we were in unfamiliar waters. And at that most inopportune of moments, the anchor windlass failed.

The last time we went sailing, the engine acted up. Since then the generator has been balky. And we have been having continuing problems with the watermaker. And so those systems have been getting all of Sten's attention. Well, the windlass must have been feeling left out because it decided to stop working as I was easing the anchor out onto the bow roller. The repairs Sten made in the Caribbean were enough to get us home, but the connection was tenuous, and last night it gave out.

There were plenty of open moorings in the mooring field, and Suzy immediately volunteered to pay for a mooring for the night. But we figured we'd give it at least one try barring the windlass open and freefalling the anchor before giving up and taking a mooring. Sten dug the bar out of a lazarette and we got the anchor set and the snubber on.

It was too late to attempt much for dinner so I heated up some French onion soup while Sten made tomato sandwiches. For dessert Suzy provided some tasty chocolate cake. And then we were all to bed.

That night, with the wind blowing hard over the narrow strip of land protecting the outer harbor it was pretty jostley in the anchor field. I awoke several times to the clanging of the bell on the red nun. At one point during the night I looked out and saw that the boat that had been next to us when we went to bed had dragged into deeper water.

Thursday dawned cold and drizzly. After several cups of hot coffee Sten and I took the dinghy into the inner harbor to see if there was any room for us. There were lots of free moorings so we brought Mata'irea in and tied her up to one in the middle of the mooring field. That night we would be very glad that we had not moored on the edge of the field.

The inclement weather resulted in a pretty lazy day. Other than a walk ashore and an evening fishing trip for Sten, we all spent most of the day onboard. Which was just fine. The light peeking out from under the low clouds had the most unbelievably beautiful pinkish golden tone. I'd like to live my life bathed in that light.

Shortly before midnight the front passed through, causing the wind to switch around. As the wind clocked and built, two sailboats that had been rafted up, anchored on the edge of the mooring field, tripped their anchors. The sailboats dragged down into the first row of moored boats, picking up an anchored powerboat along the way.

The tangle of boats and anchors drifted down onto the edge of the mooring field where they fetched up against a small powerboat. There was a lot of bumping and yelling but eventually they all got untangled and reanchored. The lesson of the week - this is one harbor where it pays to take a mooring.

July 28, 2010 - Newport Bar Crawl

We've been trying to get together with our friends Paul and Sonya off of s/v Event Horizon ever since we got home. They live on their boat just up the coast in Wickford, RI. So you wouldn't think it would be that hard. But somehow it has taken 5 weeks to make it happen. And after last night, I just might need 5 weeks to recover before we do it again.

We started the night at 41 North, a new bar/resto/hotel on the waterfront that began its life as a private club last year, but which is now open to the public. The white bar and loungy furniture makes it feel like something out of St. Barts or Miami. And the prices of the beverages only reinforces that impression. If you are looking to find all the folks who need to be seen at the most expensive bar in town, this is the place to go. If you are looking for a nice place to have a drink and watch the sunset, this would also do, but at $15 a cocktail and $9 a beer, there are much less expensive places to do it.

After one round at 41 North we made for Perro Salado, one of Paul and Sonya's favorite spots. We quickly saw why. The restaurant is set in an old house with a series of small, cozy dining rooms that open onto a colorful patio. With great margaritas, decent Mexican food, and very reasonable prices, Perro is a place we'll definitely come back to.

As we were wrapping up dinner, Paul and Sonya quizzed us about where we had been in town to figure out where to go next. When they found out that we'd never been to the Top of Newport, the roofdeck bar at the Viking Hotel, the decision was made.

The bar is open and airy, as a roofdeck would be, with lovely views. Sonya convinced me to try their Cucumber Cooler - a cocktail made with Blueberry Vodka, Cucumber Juice and Lime Juice, served in a tall glass, and garnished with a skewer of blueberries. It is a surprisingly tangy combination that goes down quickly . . . too quickly for a $13 drink. But it is so delicious that I'm planning to buy a bushel of cucumbers and a pint of blueberries at the farmers' market this afternoon to try to make my own. I'm also pretty sure that it is a hangover cure. After the variety and volume of beverages consumed last night I should be feeling a lot worse than I do this morning.

Our night ended with a stop at Paul's local, the Fastnet Pub, where they pour a great Guinness, in Paul's very well researched opinion. The Fastnet struck us as a friendly local joint and all too soon it was time for us to leave so that we could make it back to Oldport to catch the last launch of the night.

July 27, 2010 - Mackerel Cove, Jamestown, RI

We've spent most of the last two weeks working on houses. Between renovation work on my sister's place in Somerville, trimming trees and cleaning gutters at Suzy's, and cleaning out the garage at Sten's grandmother's house, we've been a bit grubby lately. It was clearly time for a swim.

With the wind out of the northwest, Mackerel Cove in Jamestown is our first choice for idyllic places to escape to. A dramatic rocky shoreline, dotted with little pebble swimming beaches, and topped with some beautiful homes in the New England vernacular, the cove is like a slice of Maine in Rhode Island. Only, the water is warmer. Not much warmer, but a little.

When the wind switches around to the south, as it does most afternoons here, the cove can get a little bouncy. But until it switches around, the water is calm, making the cove a beautiful spot for a picnic lunch and a swim . . .a very short, very refreshing swim.

July 18, 2010 - Newport Weekend

Between all the time we've been spending up in Somerville, working on my sister's place, and our persistent frugality we haven't been exploiting our proximity to the restaurants and bars in Newport nearly as much as we expected to when we first arrived back home from our trip. We walk by them all the time, but the prices and cover charges keep us from going in. Also, the two times we flew home for the Holidays, from New Zealand and Singapore, we both packed on a lot of weight (the last time we put on 25lbs between the two of us), so we've been trying to be careful about what we put in in our mouths. But this weekend our friends Matt and Monica came up from Philly to stay onboard Mata'irea with us. And so we had the perfect excuse to revisit some old haunts and check out some new places that we'd been hearing a lot about.

Our weekend of gluttony started with an early movie at the Jane Pickens and dinner at Norey's with Sten's mom and sister while Matt and Monica battled the traffic on 95. The food at Norey's was fine, and the beer list was truly impressive (if completely overwhelming). The waitress realized that Sten was stumped and offered him samples of a few brews to help him make up his mind.
It was quite late when Matt and Monica pulled in and they were worn out from the work week, so once we had their car tucked into one of the extremely rare and super secret free parking spaces in Newport, we retired to the boat. Once on board they presented us with a gift of a mixed pack of craft beers from their favorite small breweries. It was quickly apparent that there is a lot that we could learn about beer from these two. Sten pulled a few local brews out of the fridge and we chatted late into the night, getting caught up on each other's lives.

During the early hours of the morning I woke to the sound of the fog horn. I lay in bed, alternatively hoping that it hadn't woken anyone else up, and then wishing that it would. I was so excited to have company that I didn't want to waste a minute of it sleeping. When I couldn't stand the anticipation anymore I got up, made a pot of coffee, and cut up a small loaf of my sister's zucchini bread. Matt perked up as the smell of Kona wafted through the cabin and came up to join me in the cockpit. We talked some more as we watched the harbor come to life.

Once Sten and Monica were up and caffeinated we headed ashore for breakfast at Gary's Handy Lunch, a local institution. It is one of the cheapest places in town to fill one's stomach. It also happens to be very good. It isn't fancy, but I've never had a bad meal there, which is a lot more than I can say for many of the swankier places in town.

After breakfast, Matt and Monica took off for points north and a baby shower. Sten and I took the opportunity to check out the new wine store across the street from the Viking Hotel that we've been hearing a lot about. I was totally tickled to find a bottle of Sir Lambert's, a South African Sauvignon Blanc that we last enjoyed with a meal of clawless lobster in the tiny crayfish port (which also happens to the home of a decent point break) of Eland's Bay, SA.

Next up was a stop at a little barbershop to get Sten's shaggy mane shaped up. For $7 he not only got trimmed, but got lots of info about which bars serve free food with their happy hours. How great is that? We'll be checking out those tips and reporting back on them later.

As the day heated up and the sidewalks became more crowded with all the tourists in town for the Black Ships Festival we ducked into the cool and quiet Newport library to put our new library cards to work (I shudder to think how much I used to spend on paperbacks and big glossy gardening and home renovation books). While Sten perused the periodicals I checked out a few guidebooks about local highlights.

In the past, when we would spend weekends in Newport, I relied upon Sten's family's local knowledge, not bothering to try to learn about the place on my own. I promised myself as we sailed towards home that I would explore the States the way I do foreign places. And so I have been reading Nathaniel Philbrick's Mayflower, to learn more about the history of New England, and checking out guidebooks, local newspapers, and regional magazines. But mostly I've been talking to people.

I used to assume that having lived somewhere for a while or having visited it a few times, I knew it all. Now I assume that I don't know a thing. So now, as I did while we were traveling, I stop and talk to shop assistants, launch drivers, waiters . . . really anyone I can get to slow down and chat . . . to find out what they know. Just this weekend we've been on a quest to find places for Matt and Monica to park their car in Newport without feeding a meter. Although we knew a few places, and in the past we would have relied on those, I began asking people what they knew. Now free parking spaces aren't something that one divulges without hesitation. But in trading on our secret spots we learned of several more. Just by talking to people.

Matt and Monica were late coming back down from Massachusetts, so we met them out at Pour Judgment, a bar on Broadway that we'd been hearing a lot about. While we waited for them to arrive we ordered up a beer and a glass of wine, a burger and a plate of littlenecks, and watched the Tour on the flat screen over our heads. Pour Judgment's $5.95 burger might just be the best deal in town. No, actually the best deal in town is probably their $7.95 burger and beer combo. And behind the bar they have a seriously eclectic selection of the hard stuff, making this a spot that we'll have to get back to soon.

Matt and Monica joined us for one more round at Pour Judgment before we moved on down the road to Salvation Cafe, one of our alltime favorite places in Newport. With industry night specials, a pagoda and a tiki bar, Salvation is, well, salvation. But I've got to say that their current cocktail offerings leave me cold. The bar is not showing the creativity that it used to. I'm hoping that when the menu changes this fall they will come up with something more interesting than a mohito made with coconut rum.

We closed out Salvation and walked back down to the harbor in time to catch the last launch back out to the boat. After one last round of drinks in the cockpit with some tasty snacks and we were all off to bed.

In the morning Sten whipped up some eggs and sausages. Then we dropped the mooring line to do a little sailing. It was a beautiful day and the bay was crowded, with powerboats throwing nasty wakes. We short tacked out of the bay against the current, out towards the Castle Hill Light. Matt and Monica were both having a great time. Then we turned downwind, demonstrating effectively how much it sucks to go downwind in light breeze in a sloppy seastate. Within moments everyone was feeling punky. So we turned on the engine, furled up the sail, and made for the harbor.

Before Matt and Monica hit the road we did a driving tour of the Gilded Age mansions along Ocean Drive and Bellevue Ave. We parked at the end of Ruggles to peer in through the hedges at the Breakers. While standing on Cliff Walk Monica and I made plans to spend a day sometime soon doing mansion tours.