Maintenance day

There’s been a lot going on, plenty of travel and interesting sights to report. But this post is strictly maintenance-related. We are anchored in a quiet little creek just up from the mouth of the Potomac River. In the coming days we will head to Washington, DC to visit Simon and Hannah. But for today and possibly tomorrow we are sticking here. There is a front moving through and it’s bringing big winds and rain.

We are anchored in 10’, the bottom is muddy, the tide is minimal, the protection from wind and waves is perfect. It is an excellent spot to wait out weather.

I woke up at 5:30am today and realized that the beautiful 80 degree day we enjoyed yesterday turned to a wet and windy 48 degree morning. And I left the pilothouse hatch open a bit last night. No harm done, but quite a rookie mistake.

So today I got to some glamorous tasks: oiling the teak, cleaning the windows, and fussing with a ball valve. Ellen has been doing some painting and building on a project we are surprising the newlyweds with, so don’t mention anything to them.

Yesterday I was calculating how much longer we can expect the raw water impeller to keep impelling the raw water. There’s no way of knowing, but when I looked at it in August it seemed fine. But it is nevertheless overdue for replacement. When/if it fails we will be without an engine until it is replaced, so there’s a non-zero chance of catastrophe.

The raw water impeller is the piece of equipment responsible for pumping cool ocean water through the engine so it doesn’t overheat. Boats don’t use radiators to cool their engines like cars do, instead they pump in water and use that to cool things down. The impeller is the heart of the pump and because it is made of rubber, it is a wear item.

Ok, so I’ve been calling it a tool like it is some complicated piece of equipment, but the removal tool is just that big bolt that gets screwed into the end of the impeller, pushing it out of the water pump housing.

The August inspection was ostensibly an attempt to replace the impeller with a new one, but I was stymied because I didn’t have an impeller removal tool. I ordered one of them and although it is on board, along with several spare impellers, I have been putting the job off for months. I’ve probably replaced 15 boat impellers over the years, it’s not a difficult job until it is. And if it goes poorly, the engine can’t run until the task is done right. This water pump is in a pretty tight spot that doesn’t fill me with delight or optimism about the task.

How to replace an impeller: close the ball valve, remove the four bolts holding on the water pump cover plate, use the tool to remove the impeller, install the new impeller, replace the cover plate, open the ball valve, hope nothing leaks. What could go wrong?

Another reason I’ve been putting the job off is that the ball valve doesn’t shut completely. The ball valve stops water from coming in and sinking the boat while I have the water pump apart to remove the impeller. The valve is 21 years old and reluctant to close fully unless I whack it with a rubber mallet, even after a good malleting a trickle of water still makes its way in. The trickle isn’t a problem, but it creates a salty mess under the engine and is irksome to the person fussing with the impeller.

That’s the ball valve at the bottom left. The big tank-looking thing is the sea strainer. It keeps fish and seaweed and whatever else gets pulled in from making its way to the engine. The truly remarkable thing about this setup is that, unlike the water pump, everything is easily accessible.

To replace the ball valve (I ordered a replacement, it is inbound to Simon and Hanna’s place in DC) the boat needs to be hauled out of the water. Removing the valve while in the water would leave a 2” hole in the bottom of the boat. The internet has ideas about how to change a valve while in the water, they involve a swimmer going under the boat with a plunger that gets suctioned over the hole, then the valve gets unscrewed and replaced, and the plunger gets removed. Sounds doable, sounds like a fun challenge, but definitely not something for this murky Potomac water so I’ll wait until Florida at the earliest.

For the meantime I will exercise the valve. (That just means I will open and close it repeatedly in the hopes it becomes more compliant.) And I’ll probably wait until we are anchored in DC before I mess with the impeller. It should be pretty easy to remove using the new tool, but I’m not sure how easily I will be able to install the new impeller.

Up the river

Brigantine was a fantastic stop while we waited for ideal weather to continue down to Cape May and then up the Delaware River. The timing of each leg was important, first because we wanted light winds from the west for the run down the coast, second because we needed to ride an incoming tide for the trip upriver. Mission accomplished.

Went for a long walk down the beach in Cape May to this observation platform. Ellen said it needed to be taller but it did provide beautiful views of the marshes. The New Jersey seashore is beautiful.

Hat models.

We aren’t sure why the city put this hat on the water tower. Maybe it’s an early Halloween costume – this part of the country seems to be getting very excited for the holiday.

Cape May is a surprisingly lovely town. It claims to be the oldest (first?) seaside resort in the US, yet it somehow manages to avoid being tacky and garish like just about every other seaside resort. (Looking at you Atlantic City/Ocean City, NJ/Ocean City, MD.) We went for a nice long walk through town but neglected to bring a camera so you will either have to take our word for it or book a trip and see for yourself.

The tide turned upriver early in the morning, so we raised the anchor at Cape May and headed down the channel and Cape May Canal in the dark. It was not so much scary as intense – lots of very close concentrating and double-checking our route. Went without a hitch, and we got this lovely sunrise to see us out of the canal and out into the mouth of the Delaware River.

Sunrise over the Cape May Canal.

NJ has plenty of bucolic loveliness.

We caught the tide in the river and had a boost of 2-3 knots the whole way. The journey was uneventful, although we really enjoy these long days underway. As I mentioned before, it is tons of fun seeing the country by tugboat.

Salem Nuclear Power Plant on the Delaware River.

A fellow mariner got on the VHF to advise everyone to take a look at the delightful sun dog.

We got to the C&D Canal by early afternoon and made our way to Chesapeake City. We expected a sleepy little basin where we could anchor and ride out the wet and windy remnants of Hurricane Isaias. What we got was a tiki-bar, Donzi-boat, jet-ski, muscle-shirt paradise. Fun to observe, and it will not sadden us too much to leave tomorrow morning and find ourselves a quiet anchorage up some little creek in the Chesapeake Bay.

The fat whitewalls are an aesthetic choice, to be sure. But why go to all that expense and not bother to keep them clean? (The crooked parking job is likely a skill issue.)

We the people? Those are not people.

Sedan DeVille, baby!

These two boats had questionable anchoring skills. The white one put out about 20’ of chain in 11’ of water. We let out closer to 80’ and were so concerned they would drag anchor and hit us in the night that Ellen went over by kayak with some friendly advice. Both boats ended up moving out of the anchorage to spread their chaos elsewhere. Friday was so overcome by the whole situation she collapsed.

Cul-de-sac

Well, we ended up leaving Great Kills Harbor before first light yesterday and had a perfect run down to Atlantic City. This leg of the coast is the one that was giving us the most to think about because it is a long long day - 86 miles, and has the fewest options to bail out if the weather deteriorates. But we’ve been watching the forecast and tides for over a week, and yesterday turned out to be the day. We had both the wind and the waves at our back, and they made for an easy and speedy passage.

Once at Atlantic City the options are basically to drop the anchor at the side of the channel or to head into a narrow shallow passage that dead ends in a nautical cul-de-sac. We decided to risk the shallow water because we were coming in on a high tide. Now we are securely anchored in a basin that’s about 100 yards across, ringed by houses, and affords complete protection from wind and waves.

There is a grocery store, Post Office, laundromat, hardware store, nail salon, and all the NJ strip mall excitement you would imagine right near where we land the dinghy. Extremely convenient.

This morning we dinghied about two miles to Atlantic City itself and went for a fantastic run down the Boardwalk. Afterwards we showered and I had a quick court Zoom. Now it’s off to the laundromat for the afternoon’s entertainment.

We plan to stay here for another two nights or so, waiting for another fine day for the ride down to Cape May. That schedule sets us up for a fair tide to take us up the Delaware River to the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal on Sunday.

East River excitement

After a relaxing night at Eatons, we pushed on to Manhasset Bay for two nights. We haven’t run since before we went to the wedding last weekend and have been looking for an opportunity. When we arrived in Manhasset we went for a walk to get our bearings, then provisioned at the Stop & Shop. The store is directly across the street from the town dock, making it without a doubt the most convenient provisioning we’ve experienced while on a boat. That activity, however left us too tired to run. “Tomorrow,” we said.

Alas, the next day was windy and rainy…Ellen didn’t even leave the boat. I went ashore to collect Cousins Jason, Rachel, Ian, and Reese in the dinghy so they could have a bagel brunch with us. Best part was seeing them, second best part was eating delicious Long Island bagels.

The kids clambered all over the boat like monkeys while we hade a super visit with the Grups. I was teased when I suited up in my foulies, but it all made much more sense to them once we got onto the dinghy in the rain. They were all excellent sports, but it was not a day to make a sane person long for life on a boat.

Because she was warm and dry, I told Ellen I would get the dinghy strapped up on the roof by myself…she took this glamor shot of boat life.

This morning we got underway without dilly-dallying so we could catch the current for the run down the East River. Anchor was up by 6:55am and we rode the tide all the way from City Island, down the river past the UN, Roosevelt Island, Governor’s Island, out into New York Harbor, past the Statue of Liberty, across the big-ship anchorage, and under the Verrazano Narrows Bridge where we turned to starboard and anchored down in Great Kills Harbor on Staten Island.

We passed under so very many bridges today.

The big tugs pushing these big barges fit their bows into a big notch at the back of the barges. Very clever.

The day got increasingly windy, by the time we got back from a run on the beach it was gusting to nearly 30 knots. The anchor is holding fast.

When we arrived in the anchorage, I called the one marine parts store around. They told me there was one anchor light left in stock, and they closed in an hour. Ellen and I hot-footed it to shore and got the light.

The base needed to come off because the tube fit perfectly in the spot at the top of our radar mast. Such good fortune!

The installation was a multidiscipline event. We used all sorts of skills and tools including but not limited to the vice, the heat gun, the drill, the Dremel, crimpers, strippers, and even the tap and die set. Yahoo! (Oh, and now we have a working anchor light. It integrated pretty well. Now I need to get it an LED bulb and figure out a way to make it an automatic dusk to dawn setup.)

The dinghy light worked well in a pinch but was consuming three batteries every night. That’s a lot of waste. I’m thinking of dissecting the failed light to see if I can harvest its photocell and use it on the new light. Stay tuned. (Also note: I wore the safety glasses while using the Dremel and drill.)

Special thanks to our friend Randy who let me know it is not completely crazy to carry a complete tap and die set on a boat. One month aboard and I got to use it.

The new vice setup worked great.

The picture doesn’t show the wind gusting and trying to blow all the tools off the roof.

This evening we are trying to decide whether or not we should head to Atlantic City tomorrow. It’s an 86 mile run and is not to be taken lightly. It is now after dark, but we are going outside to put Giggle Monster on the roof in case we do in fact head out before dawn.

Long Island Sound, part 2

After the shockingly big and frequent ferry wakes at Port Jefferson, we decamped to Northport. In contrast to Port Jeff, Northport has no ferries. What it does have is a town dock with room for at least five big boats on each side. The approach is easy and tie-up is free all day until 5pm. So are water and electricity. So welcoming, so friendly!

We haven’t used a lot of docks with just pilings in our travels, so we always approach with caution. Cyclops has a beefy rub rail that worked well with the pilings and their vertical strakes. Initially the dock looked like it would be rough on a boat, but the system worked well. Our boat is long enough to span a several pilings and is built for tying up alongside.

We docked, met our neighbor, watered, washed the boat, showered, re-watered the boat, ate hamburgers in town, visited the local museum, and struck out on the anchor light search.

The docking was fairly straightforward but I struggled to bring the stern in as efficiently as I wanted. A guy on the dock took our stern line, so that did the trick. An older woman was sitting under the gazebo at the end of the dock, right by the bow. She looked at me in a panic and said, “I don’t know what I am supposed to do!” I let her know that her responsibilities were limited to enjoying the show. We got Cyclops tied up without drama and were complimented on our teamwork by the peanut gallery.

Northport whirligig.

Tough looking old girl. The vent window was open and I could smell the old VW whiff coming off her.

The anchorage for the night is Eatons Neck Basin, a little pond on the outer end of the neck that shelters Northport from the Sound. It’s got a narrow but straightforward entrance, 360 degree protection from waves and wind, low-lying sand dunes ringing the anchorage, and there’s a Coast Guard station at the north end. Remote, safe, quiet and calm. It’s a wonderful spot.

Northport Power Station is a very cool landmark.

…that is reminiscent of the Battersea Power Station.

…and is cousin to Dragon Cement Co., Thomaston, Maine II by Yvonne Helene Jacquette. A favorite of ours from the Portland Museum of Art.

Long Island Sound, part 1

We had a great run from Buzzards Bay to Fishers Island. Aside from the big pod of porpoises the ride to Fishers was uneventful. The seas were calm, we had a fair tide until the last hour or so, there wasn’t much traffic to worry about, and it is so much fun to captain a tugboat to new places on the ocean!

Fishers Island sunrise.

Two long days covering ground is a lot, and after we anchored at Fishers we didn’t have the energy to launch the dinghy or the kayaks. Just went to bed and enjoyed a pretty calm night. Woke up early and did it all over again to run about half-way down Long Island Sound to Port Jefferson. The day got warm enough for me to put on shorts and a t-shirt for the first time in a while. The water on the Sound was exceptionally flat, so we opened hatches and portholes for fresh air underway.

Glassy Long Island Sound.

After leaving Fishers Island we had a foul tide for about an hour, but once the current turned enjoyed an ever increasing boost all the way to Port Jefferson. The route was about 12 miles shorter than what we did either of the previous two days, so we reduced throttle as low as we could to still arrive by 2:30. It is a joy having the flexibility to take our time when the opportunity presents. Cyclops is by no means a quick boat, but she is big and steady enough to give us options.

Port Jefferson had several signs like this one scattered around town. We don’t remember seeing any signs with words like “Welcome” printed on them.

Port Jefferson. You can’t see the enormous ferries or their enormous wakes. The ferries run every half hour or so until nine at night. Hold onto your hat!

After Port Jefferson of the options we exercised was jumping another 20 miles towards NYC for a stop at Northport. There are a couple of reasons for just moving a couple of hours down the Sound. Port Jefferson is not a particularly easy place to land a dinghy. There’s no town landing and none of the marinas or yacht clubs have dinghy docks. Well, the one place that did have a dinghy dock wanted $23/hour and to hold onto our driver’s license until we returned. No.

Also, our anchor light stopped working, which is a relatively easy thing to fix, but is going to be aesthetically traumatic for me. I’ve rigged a temporary light but it is in no way an acceptable long-term solution. We hoped in vain that Northport might have some marine stores with replacement lights. It had no marine stores. Alas.

I stuck the dinghy’s night light on the motor mount to make up for the beautiful but broken light at the top of the mast. Stay tuned.

The current light (really it’s a “dark”) is mounted on a stainless steel pole I had custom welded and powdercoated. Lots of thought, planning, and effort went into what looks to me like a tidy, elegant, efficient way to display the required 360 degree light at night. The light itself has a photocell so it turned on at dusk and off at dawn. And it used practically no power because it is an LED bulb. But it doesn’t work and the company lists the replacement part as unavailable.

It is surprisingly difficult to find another LED dusk-to-dawn anchor light that doesn’t cost $180 or more. I emailed the company that made the light asking if perhaps they had just one more sitting in a desk somewhere, but I’ve not heard back.

That leaves me with a fun puzzle: replace the non-working light with one as soon as possible but also leave room in the selection/design to have it be dusk-to-dawn in the future when I figure out what bulb fits, who makes a photocell version of that bulb, and get it shipped to us wherever we happen to be. I also need to make the new light fixture work with the pole that’s already on the boat, and it needs to look and be well-executed. It’s a lot, but when it can be pulled off, this kind of problem-solving is tremendously satisfying. If I get it all sorted by Halloween it’ll be a big accomplishment. Stay tuned.

Seas were so calm that I had time to polish. Here’s the clock key.

…and here are the rejuvenated shiny bits on the wheel.

We’ve gone beyond coverage in the first of our chart books. Not sure when we will need this one again!

Running from the cold up in New England

As I write this post, the rising sun is coming through the cabin window and warming my back. This event is big news because it has been a long time since we had sunny dry weather aboard.

Over a week ago we made the decision to get to the Constitution Marina in Boston earlier than initially planned because of weather. It turned out to be a prudent choice. The big storm that battered the East Coast with high winds and heavy rain stuck around longer than expected, so we delayed our journey south until yesterday. That meant nearly a week and a half in the marina.

Boston was tons of fun. We walked and explored and looked at art and ate delicious food. We got to see our friend Alex for dinner. Our Cousin Betty came to Charlestown and hung out with us the other day. And Matt & Dasha babysat Friday for the weekend while we were at the wedding in Vermont. Then we got to have a nice dinner with them before we headed out. What a nice bunch of people!

Ellen and Eileen testing out hats pre-wedding.

Speaking of nice people, the wedding was excellent. It was a bonus opportunity to see family once more before leaving the northeast. And it was particularly wonderful enjoying the company of our fantastic children. We wandered around Burlington where the weather was magnificent and the air was perfumed with the odor of city skunk wherever we went.

Friday evening saw us at a cocktail party at the Community Sailing Center in Burlington. It’s an impressive facility right on the shores of Lake Champlain. What a gorgeous evening! What a beautiful lake! We can’t wait to check it out next summer when we make our way up the Hudson River, the Erie Canal, the St. Lawrence River, the Chamblay Canal, to Lake Champlain. But that’s a long journey and is not today’s story.

Burlington has some pretty neat street-art.

Today’s story is one of calm seas and light winds. Yesterday’s story was one of slightly boisterous seas that rolled the boat and roiled the cat’s stomach. Things settled down as we made our way to Cape Cod Bay and headed for the Cape Cod Canal. We caught the tide through the canal and got a wonderful four knot boost. Zoomed through the canal and pushed on to Mattapoiset, Massachusetts in Buzzard’s Bay. The anchorage was flat calm. Like a mill pond. What a great night’s sleep!

Sagamore Bridge

Right now we are fighting a 1.5 knot foul tide as we exit Buzzard’s Bay on our journey to Fishers Island, New York at the eastern end of Long Island Sound. The weather promises to be favorable for the next two days, so we want to cover some ground while the opportunity presents.

Look at our wonderful offspring!

Hard to believe they sprang from forth the fatal loins of these two foes.

Mama tried to raise me better but her pleading I denied. That leaves only me to blame ‘cause Mama tried.

We got to the wedding early to ensure we had good seats.

We put Boston in the rear view mirror on a grey day.

This shot was taken by the light of the full moon. What a magnificent willow! The hydrangea isn’t too shabby either.

Saw this very Vermont coat rack made from cool old spiles. Look it up, it’s your word of the day.

Toilet talk

The day started with maintenance. Because Matt and Dasha will be cat-sitting this weekend while Ellen and I head to Vermont for a wedding, we figured it made sense to do a toilet repair before they stay on the boat. The nor-easter will be enough for them to think about.

Our toilet is a Vac-U-Flush unit. Basically the toilet is connected to a vacuum pump that sucks the shit out of the bowl and sends it to the holding tank in the keel. The pump creates a vacuum that does the sucking. But the ball valve seal in the toilet had a slow leak into the pump that caused the pump to cycle in an effort to maintain the vacuum.

Here’s the bathroom with the toilet bowl and the old seals removed. The new ones are waiting on the counter.

There are some tasks better suited for a dock than the kitchen.

Reassembly.

Done. Works perfectly.

Anyway, we took the toilet apart (wasn’t really that nasty), cleaned everything that could be cleaned, and put it together with new parts. Works perfectly. Hooray! We also scheduled a pump out from the pump out boat. That should happen tomorrow.

After the head was squared away we went for a walk across town to the Institute of Contemporary Art. Had a good time walking along the Greenway, saw our first ever public sunscreen dispenser, had an excellent long walk. (Yesterday we went for a run in the morning and then logged more than 15,000 steps. Today we took it easy and just did another 15,000.)

Unicorn rides!

Today’s theme was ART. (To be fair, it’s the theme most days. That and FUN.) Found this labyrinth on the Greenway…both art and fun.

Here’s a bit of trivia for you: we’ve seen more rabbits since arriving in Boston this week than we saw over the past 26 years living in Freeport. No bunnies to be found in our neighborhood – probably because there are too many foxes, cats, mink, and raptors around. But just walking back to the boat from dinner last evening we saw around five. And then this big one today.

The last few pictures are urban eye candy for your enjoyment.

Cleat hitch

This one’s going to be a little niche. If you are someone who doesn’t care about doing things properly, doesn’t care to have things ship-shape, doesn’t have an interest in learning a simple and useful skill then you can skip to the last photo showing Cyclops after Ellen and I waxed the front half and half the back half.

I’ve put together a photo essay of a fraction of the improperly tied cleats at this marina. A boat is not an inexpensive purchase, it baffles me that owners can’t or won’t take five minutes to learn the knot that safely secures it to the dock. Also, a correctly tied cleat hitch just looks right.

This is how it’s supposed to look.

It takes a host of beauty products to keep Cyclops looking her best.

Beantown!

Well. The weather was fixing to get pretty rowdy this week so we decided to clear out of Manchester by the Sea on Sunday morning to avoid a rougher-than-necessary ride to Boston.

But before that happened, our buddy Matthew took the train up from Dedham and came to visit us on Saturday. He was our first overnight guest! We hung around Manchester, installed a new kitchen faucet, walked to Singing Beach, ate some ice cream, made pizza dough, made pizza, danced on the roof when the wedding band at the yacht club played. Good stuff!

The harbor at Manchester by the Sea is so crowded, some boats put laundry baskets over their propellors so they don’t damage their neighbors if they get too close at slack tide. Also, wow is it lovely here.

And before Matthew got to Manchester, Ellen and I spent a night moored at Misery Island and then a night anchored outside the Manchester by the Sea harbor. On Misery we circumnavigated the island, investigated the ruins on the island left behind after a resort there failed 100 years ago. After the resort, the property was home to about 45 summer residences that were destroyed in a brush fire. Now it is conservation land owned by a trust and open to the public. I tried going for a run on the trails Friday morning but called it quits after about a mile and a half because I didn’t want to break my ankle and get eaten by the herd of deer on the island before anyone noticed I hadn’t returned to the boat.

In addition to being a picture of lovely Ellen, this one is a treat because it lets you read the word crenellations in a sentence today.

We are really lichen this adventure so far.

Looks like a New England cousin of Stonehenge, but it’s actually the base of the old water tower on the island.

Sunday morning we dropped the mooring and headed to Boston. It was a short run of about 21 miles. What we learned is that Cyclops has a lot of bottles that clink and rattle in a bouncy sea state. It was a bouncy sea state. Just ask Friday…she barfed and then dozed unhappily the rest of the trip. Once we got inside the harbor islands things settled a bit and we could concentrate on all the commercial vessels, law enforcement vessels, pleasure vessels, and exciting views.

Waste treatment plant looks like giant eggs and acorns.

It was entertaining to watch Matthew try to identify the buildings in his city. He’s lived and worked in Boston since the 1980s but was all turned around approaching by water.

The Bunker Hill Memorial Bridge reminds us of the Penobscot Narrows Bridge in Maine. That illustrates what country mice we are.

We are at the Constitution Marina, you can see the masts of the USS Constitution behind the building in the background. This place is slathered with history. This morning Ellen and I went on our run along the waterfront past the Constitution to the Naval Yard, then we finished up at the Bunker Hill Monument. And on the way home we played chess at a park near the site of the first English settlement here in 1629. The tables had boards built in, and there were tupperware boxes with chessmen. Fantastic!

This Boston is a hopping, colorful town.

The biggest fright of the day is that when we called the Constitution Marina to ask for our slip assignment, they gave us the chilling news that they wanted us to back into our slip. BACK INTO OUR SLIP! That’s something I’ve been saying we should learn to do since 2022, but I’ve been putting it off. Because it is really really hard. The boat walks to starboard in reverse. That feature, coupled with the bow thruster, makes docking forward pretty easy. But in reverse? Yikes.

Well, I had a crackerjack crew aboard and went at it slowly and carefully. Slow like a pro, as the kids say. The fairway leading to the slip was narrow, the boats had their anchors and bowsprits pointing at us, ready to gouge the hull. Cyclops does not like a crosswind, (who does?) and I didn’t know how to keep the stern parallel to the narrow slip as I approached. Then I learned I can get the girl to pivot with the bow thruster. It’s counter-intuitive to push the bow to starboard in an effort to pivot the stern to port, but after three tries I figured it out and got the job done without incident. In fact, the dock master told us we looked pretty salty.

There are locks and drawbridges galore around here. Drawbridges to get the trains to North Station, locks to get boats in and out of the Mystic River. And pedestrian paths along the water – everyone in Charlestown is young and out jogging. We don’t know when they go to work! The place is also crawling with preschools and preschoolers. So much energy! We know what everyone is doing when they are not out jogging.

Boats. Water. Machinery. Yowza, this place is great.

This is for the stick and ball people. The Bruins are a local sport team. TD Garden used to be called Boston Garden and it is where sporting competitions are frequently held. More importantly, it’s where we saw the Grateful Dead at the end of last century.

Because we are tourists and life-long learners, we walked a bit of the Freedom Trail. The Copp’s Hill Burying Ground has been a final resting place for nearly 400 years. And is beautiful. And is chock-full of stories.

When I was in law school I realized that the library wasn’t full of dull legal text (ok, of course it was) but that every one of the hundreds of cases in those thousands of books told the story of some kind of human interaction. A cemetery is the same thing – every grave marks an entire universe of a person’s life.

There’s a Star Market not far from the marina, so we picked up some provisions. This display selling pinecones also made us feel like country mice. Who buys pine cones? People who don’t live near pine trees, I suppose. (To be fair, these are vanilla or possibly cinnamon scented pine cones, not the run of the mill pine scented pine cones with which we are most familiar.)