The Harbormaster

I'm in Newport. I didn't mean to be here now. Circumstances dictated it. This is perhaps the center of the yachting universe, and I end up here in high season. Me and my boat don't belong here. We belong in some deserted gunkhole enjoying the sunset with throngs of mosquitoes. Not in Newport with throngs of million dollar yachts and people who look like they stepped out of J crew catalogues.

I thought of blogging about a few things the past week or two, but decided it best to keep my mouth shut. I don't know who reads the blog, but I know some people up here are keeping an eye on my broken down boat.

I was in a harbor in Martha's Vineyard when the harbormaster from another harbor on the island tracked me down and told me I wasn't allowed to anchor in his harbor (which I had done a couple nights earlier).

I feel like a guest here in New England during yachting season. I don't want to wear out my welcome. Last night I anchored in a tiny harbor full of moorings. All of the harbors here seem to be tiny and full of moorings. A few minutes after anchoring, the harbormaster dingied out to my boat and suggested that it would be best if instead of anchoring, I took one of the moorings. He did take pity on me and my boat, charging less than full price, because he "could see I was on a budget".

New England is in sharp contrast to the ICW and my trip through the southern states. Down there, I was mostly able to anchor in places which were deserted. And even in the crowded harbors like St. Augustine or Charleston, I'm not sure I ever met a harbormaster. Also in the South, any harbor of any size is full of abandoned junk boats. Perhaps that's the South's water analogue to the junk car in the yard.

I do want to give a shout out to Falmouth and its Harbormaster. Amy decided we should meet up there to offload her stuff from the boat. The guidebook mentioned a restaurant where we could tie up for lunch. When we got there, the restaurant option appeared unavailable, but I radioed the harbormaster and he gave me permission to tie up at the town dock to unload.

Amy says she wants to be a harbormaster when she grows up. I want to be a tugboat captain when I grow up. I think we'll be a good match if that ever happens.

Pic is of my new crocs. I bought them after my teva sandals broke. They were on sale at West Marine. I thought about blogging about how in addition to being stupid looking, they aren't that comfortable. But I decided no one could possibly be interested in hearing about that.