I anchored inside Charles Island outside of Milford after a 71 nm day of motoring on what a LIS resident friend and sailor later reported to be the clearest day he has ever seen on the sound.
I phoned the beautiful Dreameagle (her Mohawk name) to figure out when we might get together again. She asked where I was and I said I was in a small town in Connecticut called Milford. “Milford!”, she said, “That’s where my brother lives.” This is the way things seem to go with her.
I moved into the town landing, one of the friendliest municipal marinas on the coast, the next morning. Eric, who did the return trip from Chesapeake City to Milford (non-stop except for a four hour nap in Cape May) with me last year arrived for lunch. He was shortly followed by delivery captain and mariner extraordinaire and my very dear friend Bernie Weiss. Bernie is also my writing mentor. Could we have a round of cyber applause for him? You certainly would not be reading this if it were not for his encouragement over the years.
We had a great lunch after which I went back to the marina to re-organize and re-stow clothes and change the oil. During the afternoon, a woman on the dock asked if I was Roger. That happens quite a bit because of this forum but it turned out to be Dreameagle’s sister in law who had come down to see if I was here. We had a nice chat although I was covered with oil and diesel fuel from my engine maintenance.
Eric returned, as the sun went over the yardarm, with Brian who did the previous NJ return leg with me, and we went out for dinner in which the adult beverage fueled boat talk was somewhat relieved by discussion of various beautiful and wonderful women.
Dreameagle arrives later today for a sail and dinner with her brother and his wife. This will be the first meet the family event on my side.
I don’t expect to write much about the next couple of days so look for this log to be picked up in Stamford, my next planned stop.
I phoned the beautiful Dreameagle (her Mohawk name) to figure out when we might get together again. She asked where I was and I said I was in a small town in Connecticut called Milford. “Milford!”, she said, “That’s where my brother lives.” This is the way things seem to go with her.
I moved into the town landing, one of the friendliest municipal marinas on the coast, the next morning. Eric, who did the return trip from Chesapeake City to Milford (non-stop except for a four hour nap in Cape May) with me last year arrived for lunch. He was shortly followed by delivery captain and mariner extraordinaire and my very dear friend Bernie Weiss. Bernie is also my writing mentor. Could we have a round of cyber applause for him? You certainly would not be reading this if it were not for his encouragement over the years.
We had a great lunch after which I went back to the marina to re-organize and re-stow clothes and change the oil. During the afternoon, a woman on the dock asked if I was Roger. That happens quite a bit because of this forum but it turned out to be Dreameagle’s sister in law who had come down to see if I was here. We had a nice chat although I was covered with oil and diesel fuel from my engine maintenance.
Eric returned, as the sun went over the yardarm, with Brian who did the previous NJ return leg with me, and we went out for dinner in which the adult beverage fueled boat talk was somewhat relieved by discussion of various beautiful and wonderful women.
Dreameagle arrives later today for a sail and dinner with her brother and his wife. This will be the first meet the family event on my side.
I don’t expect to write much about the next couple of days so look for this log to be picked up in Stamford, my next planned stop.