August 10-11                              Wickford, Rhode Island

The weather was sunny with a gentle breeze as we began preparations to leave Mystic.  One of our fenders had a short line submerged in the water for the month we had been docked and it had become covered with young barnacles.  I was in a hurry so I scraped them off with my hands—a slimy, messy job that I am not eager to do again.  Andrew came out to help us untie the lines and remove the ladder.  Maribel, in her lovely flowered housecoat, waved goodbye as we pulled out of the slip.  We look forward to seeing them again when we return to Mystic in a month to leave the boat until October

As we exited through the enormous railroad bridge, we were once again awed by the beauty of the large harbor that stretches from Mystic to the Sound.  With hundreds of boats moored offshore, we carefully made our way through them and followed a serpentine channel to Noack, where we docked for fuel.  Noack, much smaller than Mystic, is an impressive sight with many large older homes on small hills overlooking the water.  Everything is pristine with lush landscaping and flowers.  Several restaurants here are noted for exceptional seafood in casual outdoor settings.  Reportedly, much of it comes directly from the fishermen.
Across from Noack is the western tip of Fisher Island.  Owned privately by one family for more than two hundred years and used primarily for cattle grazing, Fisher Island is now an enclave of the rich and famous who fiercely guard their privacy.  A small town exists on the western part of the island but most of the eastern part is a gated community with a private club, airport, and dock that will accommodate 100’ yachts.  The magnificent homes were visible from the water as we cruised through Block Island Sound.
We were pleased we had decided not to cross the Sound to Block Island for we would have been moving against the wind and the waves would have been more than 5’and choppy.  Cruising along the coastline was more pleasant and much faster.  Leaving the Sound, we turned into Narragansett Bay, which extends to Providence and is the locale of many of New England’s loveliest and most popular boating destinations.  (Note:  The word Narragansett evokes childhood memories as I first learned it as a third grader when we studied about Thanksgiving and the Narragansett Indians who attended that first Pilgrim feast.  Narragansett was one of the first “long” words that I learned to read and spell.). The Bay holds several large islands which separate the western and eastern shores of Rhode Island.  Two huge bridges span the waterway to Conanicut Island and link the separate shores.  We cruised beneath one and will cruise beneath the other when we leave Wickford and head to Newport.

The portal to Wickford is through a long stone breakwater leading into several beautiful coves lined with small marinas.  The village is small but active and very quaint.  Situated right on the water, its Main Street is lined with eighteenth century “salt box” style homes, two storied, no front porches, with Georgian-style doorways opening onto a small stoop, and impressive buildings and churches that have been well maintained.  Newer homes tend to follow the same historic architectural style. Our marina was located about a quarter of a mile from the downtown area.  We quickly unloaded the bikes and rode to the downtown to see again this lovely place.  In December 2009, we cut short our trip to Manhattan, rented a car, and came to Wickford to look at a Hatteras we were interested in buying.  The day was miserably cold and we almost froze as we toured the boat.  (It was beautiful, we made an offer, the owner refused to negotiate, and we later made a better and wiser choice.)  Before leaving Wickford, we had driven through downtown and eaten lunch at a small seafood restaurant.  It was fun to see everything again in weather that was much more pleasant.

Returning to the boat, I procrastinated until it was too dark to wash the salt from the boat.  That would be an early morning chore.  We enjoyed a light dinner on the bridge watching the lingering sunset turn the cove into a soft mauve landscape and then seeing it change to a brightly lighted scene as the full moon illuminated the area.  It was difficult to leave such a tranquil scene and we did so reluctantly.

Thursday was cool, sunny, and breezy.  I quickly washed the boat to remove the accumulated salt and spent extra time cleaning the yellow electrical cords that had become dirty from lying on the dock for a month at Mystic.  After a shower, I joined David on the aft deck to read and write as he constantly talked on the phone to staff and clients of SGA.  He could not have been happier.  He was doing what he loved to do, in perfect weather, in a beautiful place, barefoot, and on his boat!  (We were ignoring the debacle this week of the stock market.  We could do nothing about it.  Life must go on and we choose to do so with confidence that it will get better.)

We took the bikes to the village for a late lunch at the Tavern by the Sea, a quaint place on the waterfront serving great seafood.  David, despite his resolve to abstain from fried foods, surrendered to order fish and chips and declared it to be very, very good.  I was equally pleased with my lobster salad. 

While perusing the local shops, we received a call that our boat would have to be moved forward on the dock face to make room for an incoming 120’ yacht.  We returned and supervised the move which was expertly executed by the dockhands.  The adjacent dock was 100’ in length and our new neighbor would extend 20’ behind us.  The Bayou, a monstrous blue-hulled boat (flying the flag of the Marshall Islands) was an impressive and intimidating sight as it pulled alongside us.  The crew and dock hands expertly brought it into the slip while everyone in the marina watched admiringly.

We had a light dinner onboard and began preparations for our early departure to Newport, Rhode Island.  The weather reports were favorable for our brief voyage.  We had been contacted earlier that several of our Fort Worth friends were vacationing there and would like to join us tomorrow evening for happy hour.