Two days in three states

[bob budd]

Saturday broke another sunny day, though the autumn chill made it clear that summer was fast departing. Went off to the shopping and returned to find that the airport read the mercury at 45 degrees. Autumn chill indeed.

The afternoon found us behind Gloucester High squeezing a couple friends into our "extra" boats for their first paddle. The Annisquam, protected from everything but boat traffic, seemed the ideal location. After the requisite novice instruction we headed towards Wingaersheek Beach. The trip was necessarily short and uneventful, both of our trip mates found the experience enjoyable.

Awake refreshed at 5:15AM, early for me, but falling asleep at 8:30PM the previous night is also not the norm. Still dark outside, I found out that the Sox had restored their tenuous hold at the apex of the division. On to (more) important things.

Meant to depart by 7AM for Esker Point, a two hour drive last time I made the trip. Simply going to Connecticut for the day was not enough, we meant to bring our kayaks and paddle around Fisher's Island. Having left soggy gear in the car from the previous day we had shifted four boats to two atop the Forester and were ready for the post-dawn departure. While the accident in Providence made us the last to the put-in, we found a few boats still on land and hastily packed and launched.

The modest wind greeted us a the mouth of the river and followed us all the way to the western end of the island. A few new acquaintances were made amongst the residents of the area. As we reached the island we encountered the well-known blonde opthamolagist, having launched from the island to join us. In the lee of the winds on the western side of the island I was inclined to soak my head. The gang had assembled this side of race point waiting for the cat herd to form up.

The trip around race point included some swell and breaking waves. At least one point launched itself from a wave only to return like Newton's apple. Around the corner we then gathered on the beach for lunch with a runway at our backs. After launching anew for the trip east several needed to clear their skegs. The mild dumping surf drove more than one stern into the pebbly beach.

On this leg of the trip we were presented a never-ending assortment of confused seas. I, for one, was soon frustrated at the insistence of my boat to head first one way, then another. While I normally get sufficient correction from leaning the boat and muscling the bow where I would have it go, thus not breaking the cadence of my stroke, I instead found myself sweeping on the right side more that I would like.

At the eastern end of the island there were several opportunities to play among the rocks. I stayed with the conservative majority (sounds worse that it was) and headed out around while a few surfed in and round meeting us on the eastern side of the island, the cats again a herd. After counting all we headed around the corner for a small beach.

From here the group split, a contingent following the island until upwind from the put-in and another contingent intending to ferry the incoming tide across the sound to the put-in. From there we began the trip home leaving some of the participants to their PPPO.