Lane's Cove on Veteran's Day

[bob budd]

When the weather person gets it right, they get it right. The day broke sunny and 9AM found me at Lane’s Cove. Noone was there to join me, as I had expected, and I set off towards Halibut Point. With the low tide I was afforded a pit stop outside the wall on the slimy rocks, making it easy to slip back into the water and proceed.

Poked into the rocks here and there. Though I was in the lee of the southerlies the swell from the recent rainstorm persisted in rippling the surface of the water and breaking loudly on the rocks. We’ve played here before, I remember once being hung on a rock and slipping down into the receding water, when the surface had nearly reached the cockpit and I was just sliding off I knew there could be only one result.

As Halibut Point drew into clear view it was obvious that the swell was having a more significant effect on the easterly shores of Cape Ann. The waves were standing tall and wrapping around the corner, breaking on the rocks. Giving the shore a wide berth I stopped for awhile to listen to the sounds.

Then I got a familiar feeling. It wasn’t fear. I know that; the heightened senses, the energy, the alterness, and the anxiety – so difficult to control. This was that voice that was so deftly turned aside as a teenager. This voice was telling me I didn’t belong out there alone.

So back I went, deciding instead to see if the Conomo Kids were to be found. On my way west I was serenaded by a loon. My first loons in the east were heard with Bradley (the teddy bear) in the winter of my unemployment. This solitary fowl called again and again, perhaps affirming my decision.

Arriving at Wingaersheek Beach I found the dumping surf and the competing waves left a short passage that put me between two sets of rocks at the corner beneath a modest house. There I pulled out for a sandwich and banana, then dragged the boat onto the rocks against the advancing tide, and walked around to the back side in search of the Conomo Kids. They eluded my search, perhaps then out of sight, and I returned to my rocky boat ramp and caught a short nap in the sun.

The twisting water and the mouth of the Essex beckoned and I dropped in for a short visit before heading back to the familiar rock wall. Beyond the modest white water there were many Eider ducks to be found. The sounds in the mouth of the Annisquam included the bell buoy, resounding through the surrounding coast and seeming to coming from one place and everywhere at the same time.

Outside the wall I capsized starboard and port for rolls. At least this time there was no clear “onside”, though the second roll left me with a rather persistent headache. I did not experience a loss of balance, but first felt as if my sinuses were collapsing and then for a short time my head seemed to vibrate.

Interested parties should note that the Willow Rest appears to no longer be selling Richardson’s Ice Cream (till next season).

P.S. – Walter, I was looking towards Crane’s Beach and I swear I saw that light blink.

[RogerPollock]

Funny, I got kind of spooked in that area before Halibut Point while out solo once myself, and likewise turned back.

The swells start to grow @ Folly Cove, you begin to feel exposed, and you start wondering, hmmm, am I doing the right thing here?

Interesting how things look/feel differnt when you're alone. One's senses are very much heightened . . .