Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Friends...Old & New


 So there I was...getting ready to pull anchor and make my way out of the Mystic River and onto Block Island.  While I was in Mystic I managed to catch up with old friends that stopped by my boat one evening and have breakfast with some other old friends at Carson's, my favorite breakfast place, in Noank, CT.  Went through a wicked squall early one morning that killed a guy on shore when a tree limb dropped on his car.  This happened the day after I avoided the very disturbed ex-Hartford cop that was loudly ranting as he motored his sailboat by me after being arrested for the third time a couple days before.  I read he was arrested again once he got to New London harbor.  Spent a couple hours on a Paceship 26, the same sailboat make and size I used to own, moored near where I was anchored.  The owner, Jim, was a canvas guy and had taken this boat down the intra-coastal waterway to Florida.  Finally, I stopped and spent some time with another couple I know that own the most beautiful deep green tugboat docked in Mystic.  After a tour of the boat and a few stories exchanged it was time to leave for Block Island.  Dropped anchor in Great Salt Pond (Block Island) only to realize that I was right next to another old friend of mine. Rob used to service the elevators in the library I worked at.  He and his wife were gracious enough to invite me on their sailboat for dinner(s), coffee and a bit of storytelling.  Coming back from my early morning dingy run to shore for coffee, I came across another couple I'd gotten to know from two of my previous cruises.  I'd met them before out on Long Island and as always enjoyed catching up on our adventures.  She has been kiteboarding for years and every time I talk to her I get excited about trying it.  Two days ago I stopped to talk to a couple that had a 34' Mainship trawler, just like mine, and got caught up in a trawler tour with other owners of like boats where we dingied from one to the other, including mine, to see how each had customized.  It was late and dark before the last dingy made his way back to his own trawler.

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