Wednesday September 30, 2009 Newport, Rhode Island 41°28.5'N 71°20'W
Bob here again…still in Newport, Rhode Island awaiting Nancy’s return from her busy work schedule. We are rocking on a mooring ‘midst 1000+ boats; watching 2000+ over-fed, over 70 years old Italians unloaded off today’s cruise ship with maps and dig cameras to infiltrate downtown Newport; like of wave of instinct driven insects spreading outwards from a central hub. Yesterday it was the German version to capture the same photos and scan the same novelty shops between sits under the same numerous outdoor cafes. Blessings to Newport’s economy making this a tourista hub along with Boston and New York City.
We’ll get to ‘dreams’ momentarily, but first a little on ‘routines’ aboard while moored or anchored.
Nancy has a 6th sense or maybe ‘séance’ sense in her dreams. She met our recently departed friend John West. He was busy…very busy…active and conducting a sports medicine clinic somewhere, wearing his spiffy white coat as usual. To her, he appeared ‘content’ and when asked…”no regrets”, he said. In some other place… she met Mike Solomon, departed OB/GYN physician. He and Don Maunz (happily not departed) were brush painting a dining room bright colors. She said to him: ‘but you’re dead!’. He replied: ‘I try not to let it get me down’. Then yesterday she had a dream that while working in the surgical OR, massive thick fecal material was backing up through all the drains, flooding under all the doors; only to get a real time email later that same day from Alan Currie stating all the EMMC gastroenterologists have moved to St. Joe’s hospital.
I don’t get that type of dream.
Mine this morning at maybe 4:25 AM: I am doing a complex 60 degree scoliosis spine…an operative surgical correction on a 17 year old teenage boy’s deformed spine…blood and instruments everywhere…with 3 sets of gloved hands working mostly smoothly in conjunction… when I realized…suddenly realized in a panic mid way through the case… I had elected to stop doing surgery in 2007…2 years ago!!…I am not now credentialed or even licensed to do surgery anymore!!
Lurching back into consciousness carrying that same inextricable panic, I must have just heard 1 bell from the Chelsea clock…4:30 AM…
|Tuesday September 21, 2009 On the Isles of Shoals 42°59'N 70°37W|
Jack here again...
We cannot use Bernadette, the autopilot. Lots of named items on board besides the 'head', 'bow', 'port' which I remember as 'red' vs the 'green of 'starboard' because port wine is red. The 'back porch' between cockpit and dinghy where we can set up lawn chairs with cup holders. The 'fos'c's'le' which I never could spell without looking it up...forward cabinets for light gear. The 'tramps' which Jack prefers to expensive doggy artificial turf. There is the 'great room', an expansive 360 deg visability cockpit which has entertained 12 people. Our ideal boat though: drinks 6, eats 4, and sleeps 2.
Through the daylight hours we pass Bold Dick Rock, the Hypocrites, Jacknife Ledge, Drunker's Ledge, Shag Ledge, Old Woman Ledge, and the Cuckholds...curious to know the story behind each...a chapter in itself; but what follows below is more amazing.
By 3PM it's evident with the wind now on the nose we will not make my friend and frat brother Coz's mooring in Yarmouth before dark...can't see lobster pots in the dark! Over the cellphone he suggests his favorite spot...Christmas Harbor...a narrow hurricane hole where one can pick up moorings. The chart shows it on Southport Island at the mouth of the Sheepscot River with a blown up view showing 2 guarding rocks with navigational markers green and red (RRR...Red Right Returning) and 20 feet of depth inside; but when we get there, the 2 guarding rocks have no markers and the depth is 6' still dropping; but that's OK for a catmaran. Calling Coz again, he states there are often up to 10 large Hinckley's inside but all we see is 4 small lobster boats and a runabout or two. Anyway...passing it off to the old very old not updated chart we have, we picked up an outside mooring waiting for low low tide which still left just 1' under our daggerboards protecting the sterndrives.
Next afternoon over drinks on Coz and Betsy's beautiful porch on Kingfisher Cove, we described the previous night's anchorage...got out charts. Unbelieveable..unbelieveable .but there are 2 Christmas Coves! Yep..2 Christams Coves. Seperated by less than 5 nautical miles; both with the same orientation and length; but "our" Christmas Cove on Southport Island has a 4' bar at the entrance whereas "his" Christmas Cove on Rutherford Island has a 20' depth. Someday we will check out the other guy's Christmas Cove
So here we sit...on a beautiful afternoon, on svNavigator's back porch, on the approaching Autumnal Equinox, on a courtesy mooring, on the Isles of Shoals which could belong to Maine or New Hampshire (don't know), on Gospar Harbor below Smuttynose Island...probably once called SnottyNose Island before Boston Blue Bloods objected.
"Be well; do good work; and keep in touch" (Garrison Kellor)
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