July 17 – 19, 2015
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| Heading out of the Narraganset Bay |
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| Lighthouse on Block Island |
boat population if not more. Uh-oh. Seemed innocent enough at the time of our
arrival but as time progressed, more and more boats arrived to create a party
scene reminiscent of olden days at Two Rivers Marina. Well, I guess it is what
it is.
With map in hand, I decided to walk
to the beach. Sam and Clay opted in, giving me companionship as we trekked over
the asphalt two-lane road with no shoulder or sidewalk to the beach beyond. I
was truly amazed that, given the walking/biking population (mostly visitors),
the walkability of these roadways was so poor! The beach stretching north from
Old Harbor was fabulous! Scattered about were kids building sand castles, older
folks 
shelling/rocking, families wading and bobbing in the water. With Sam in
the lead heading north, Clay and I followed up the shoreline toward a distant
point which Clay quickly ascertained was wayyyyy too far. I called a meeting of
the minds to chart a course that would make everyone happy. We returned to the
boat 1.5 hours later to regroup before dinner.
Sam and Clay had investigated dinner
options with Sam making reservations 
at The National Hotel which "has the
monopoly on the old-fashioned rocking chairs and breakfast on the deck."
We grabbed a cab from the marina, deciding to explore prior to dinner the
downtown of New Shoreham (Old Harbor), the smallest town in the smallest state
in the US and the only town on Block Island. The village at Old Harbor offered
everything from trinkets to trendy sportswear, imported goods and artful
crafts.
at The National Hotel which "has the
monopoly on the old-fashioned rocking chairs and breakfast on the deck."
We grabbed a cab from the marina, deciding to explore prior to dinner the
downtown of New Shoreham (Old Harbor), the smallest town in the smallest state
in the US and the only town on Block Island. The village at Old Harbor offered
everything from trinkets to trendy sportswear, imported goods and artful
crafts.
Seated at The National Hotel for
dinner on the porch, we had a colorful view of the passing scene as well as of
the water. We found our food to be delicious with Sam ordering fried clams;
Clay, lobster fettuccine; and me, swordfish. But, the porch was crowded and
very loud which diminished our enjoyment somewhat and made us eager for a quick
escape without dessert.
Desiring some me time, I bolted from
the boat early Saturday morning for a solo walk, making my great escape before
either of the fellas got up. I had charted my course, and turned right out of
the marina with map in hand. En route, I met Harriett who was a fellow boater
(sail) docked at the marina adjacent to ours. Harriett was well-acquainted with
Block Island and shared tidbits with me as we walked Beacon Hill Road which cut
through the island from West Side Drive to Center Road. I loved the road naming
which gave validation to the location of said roads. Beacon Hill Road, with its
dirt and gravel surface and periodic pot holes and ruts, dissuaded any desire
of mine to jog a bit; it was remote and infreqently traveled, but Harriett
assured me we were safe. I noted the sign "No scooters" and quickly
ascertained the why for the exclusion. Harriett and I parted company after she
pointed out the direction of the airport and indicated her destination of the
Saturday morning farmers market, her backpack an almost dead giveaway!
Returning to the boat, I urged Sam
and Clay to do their own thing today, and I'd do mine. I loved the sense of
freedom and self-direction! So, off they went for lunch at Dead-Eye Dick's and
an afternoon of exploration at the Mohegan Bluffs. I got consumed by
housekeeping chores, but broke away mid-afternoon to go biking. I pedaled out
the marina driveway and onto the main road curving right, rode about 100 yards
and got whacked on my outside arm by some idiot (clown? nasty-name?) riding by
on his rental scooter. He gave a huge 'woo hoo' as he hit my left arm on the
upswing; I kept my balance and watched him weave back and forth over the center
line as he rode on down the two-lane asphalt road. Idiot! I kept my balance,
but sobbed, remembering a similar incident during my growing-up years. |
| Block Isl Bikes! |
Soon recovered, I had a nice ride
around the lower half of the island, then circled north by the a
van (taxi) in which Sam and Clay were returning from the
bluffs (I recognized Clay's cap). Talk about coincidence! I then proceeded
north along the beach the 3.7 miles we'd previously noted to Settler's Rock.
Settler's Rock commemorates the landing of the sixteen European families who
purchased the island and first came ashore in 1661. I paused to walk the beach
and pick up a few rocks as souvenirs. All in all, I biked about 2.25 hours,
with stops for viewing and picture-taking. There are hills here, but they are short
hills which allow for quick recovery in the downward slope beyond.
We three returned to the downtown
area for a late seafood dinner at Manisses Restaurant, then called it a night
and returned to the marina.
Clay and I walked Sunday morning,
retracing much of my Saturday route, and again encountering Harriett who gave a
hearty shout out "SaSea Sally" when she saw us in the distance. Such
fun in a sea of strangers to have someone hail me in recognition. Returning to
the boat, Clay noted the fog setting in. Note: Waterway Guide highlights fog
and wind in the same sentence with Block Island often being called the
"Bermuda of the North." 
The hundreds of boats prepping for
departure had a wait on their hands with a few of the more impatient ones
heading out prematurely. Stupid. We left in the second or third shift of the
fog lift, but were astounded to find ourselves soon maneuvering in a very dense
fog which descended once again. With 200-300 yards visibility for much of the
trip, we were thankful for the electronics onboard...and amazed at those
traveling in our same waters with no electronics. All three of 
Sam, Clay and I
drove with only the captain's hands on the helm wheel. Three hours later it was
hard to believe the battle we'd just wagered with Mother Nature; clear and
sunny the remaining three hours, we arrived at Brewer's Greenwich Bay Marina
where Sam was to switch out boat for car early the next morning.
Because Clay had noticed some
acceleration problems with SaSea in the last hours of our trip, he was anxious
to have the props and shafts checked for possible rope or damage. Astutely, Sam
spied a diver just calling it quits for the day. We solicited the diver's help
in checking us out and were given an all clear. Hmmm. I suggested we take the boat
for a test run the next day to reassess. Will keep you apprised.
A grocery run, dinner prep and
clean-up kept this little lady hopping for the remaining hours of Sunday
evening; and I retired pooped following a good dinner of grilled burgers,
zucchini and fresh corn on the cob. I mentally prepared a to-do list for Monday
morning when Sam was scheduled to depart and sister Susan to arrive.
More later when we've transacted
this quick turnaround, bidding farewell to Sam and welcoming Sus aboard the
SaSea Sally!
