night swimming
So we lose power yesterday and schedule a morning appointment to have it fixed. This means we are looking at no AC for the bedroom, which is a serious bummer since it’s been hot and humid all week. With the prospect of an uncomfortable and loud (traffic from the road with all the windows open) bedtime, our survival instincts kick in. It’s every man for himself to get through the night with a minimum of misery. Reen opts for the pharmaceutical approach, taking a Sudafed at 8pm and quickly conks out on the deck reading. Clever girl. I choose to head out fishing, with plans to make it a late night so I can collapse into my humid and deafening bedroom when I get home. So it’s rod onto roof, wading shoes on and off we go.

I drive by the lighthouse, wanting to fish the rocks there but there are people already fishing here and I’m not into crowds. Onward into Woods Hole, but it’s teeming with folks there for dinner etc, so there’s nowhere to park near where I’d like to fish. It’s looking like the old standby of Quissett. The quick trip up the road provides a few beautiful sunset views over the bay. Really spectacular, nuclear glowing sky type stuff.

Once on the scene, my plans to wade around the edge of the harbor out towards the open water are foiled by the extra high tide which has covered the entire beach face. The water is up into the bushes, which I’ve never seen before. So fishing off the dock it is. As I’m fishing, the folks who were out at the Knob watching the sunset slowly filter back to their cars and leave. It’s a lovely calm night, warm summer air, quiet and getting a bit dark as the full moon hasn’t risen yet. About an hour into my session, I realize that I didn’t hear my lure splash as it hit the water and then notice that my line is tight. It is stuck fast and this not good. With the little ambient light, I can see that as I tug on the lure, the mooring line from one of the many Herreshoff 12 ½’s is moving too. My lure is stuck there and will remain so until purposefully removed.

At this point I stand there on the dock for probably 5 minutes, slowly noodling over what I should do. I could cut the line and head home, but that would mean losing a $10 lure plus leaving about 40’ of line out in the water, so that’s out. There are a number of dinghies tied up at the dock that folks use to get out to their boats, but none seem to have oars in them and I’m really not keen on seeing if this is the one instant where some guy heads to the harbor for some reason and sees me paddling around in his boat. So as I’m untying my wading shoes I’m thinking of what options I have left. I dip a foot in the water (which is a mere 2-3” below the top of the dock) and it feels like a bath. As I take off my shirt and glasses, I wonder to myself how many people are left out on the Knob and just when the security guard for the yacht club gets on duty. Staring now at my shorts folded neatly next to my shirt and shoes, somehow I remain unsure of how exactly I’m going to solve this problem. But when you’re standing on a dock at night in just your boxers, there’s really only one question left. Do I dive in or use the ladder off the side? I choose the latter approach and let me tell you that the water is fine. Swimming on a summer night is always a thrill.

As I dust off my backstroke, I can clearly see the fishing line just above my nose, frozen in place like the light from a tiny beacon pointing me in the right direction. Upon my arrival at the boat I am able to use the mooring ball as a float and use both hands to extract my lure from the line. Another 4 minute swim, being careful not to tangle my legs in the now slack fishing line, and I’m back on the dock. A guy walking his dog about 30 yards away sees me get out of the water and stops to make sure I’m not up to any funny business. I don’t think it’s apparent from his vantage point that I’m in my underwear and he slowly moves along. After air drying for a few minutes I see the security guard pull in for the evening and so I put on my t-shirt and shorts. I’m pretty wet still, but kept my head dry and am warm nonetheless. The full moon is rising now, a deep orange Hyde of a moon, peering through the trees on the far side of the harbor. It’s so bright that it’s lighting up the bottoms of the few clouds overhead. I keep fishing for another 30 minutes or so, until the moon has finished its slow diminishment back into harmless Henry Jekyll. I’m dry enough that I don’t get the seat wet on the drive home. Reen’s fast asleep in bed and I slip in along side her. Just as I had planned, I’m exhausted and am asleep moments later.  1 comments

this and next
I’ve recently been reminded of a learning disability that I seem to have. Picture, if you will, a lovely Wednesday afternoon and a friend asks what you’re up to next weekend. Would you mention your plans for 3 and 4 days from now, or 10 and 11 days from now? What I’ve found is that for me, “this” weekend and “next” weekend are quite often one and the same. If it’s Monday through Wednesday, they are the same to me. If I’m asked on a Friday, Saturday or Sunday, then we are currently enjoying “this” weekend and “next weekend” is clearly about 7 days away. If it’s a Thursday, I may have the presence of mind to ask for clarification.  1 comments

dog days
A bit belated but the 4th was fun. Jay came down Sunday and joined Reen and I at a friend's house for a party. We got to see the fireworks (disappointing) and generally had a nice time. Up to Erin and Dan’s on the 4th itself, for a celebration of Duncan and Dad’s birthdays.

As part of dinner at E&D&D’s I made some sausage. My first 100% original recipe. It came out quite well and was well received, so that made me happy.

Reen is officially a local celebrity now that she works at the Hospital. All sorts of folks say hi to her around town. And although she’s too modest to tell you herself, her fine work has certainly been noticed within the hospital itself. The most recent evidence of this being the extra serving of stuffing she was given by the cafeteria staff at lunch last week. I am happy just to bask in the glow of her fame.

A little bit of fishing lately, but no real excitement. I’ve been trying out some rubber baits for the first time, namely fin-s and sluggos. Apparently they work great for stripers and I look forward to confirming that very fact. I did make a visit down to Quissett Harbor one night last week and fished off the dock there a bit. It was a virtual striper nursery down there. I had some fun playing with different lures and retrieves, but most of my stuff was too big for these little guys. I did manage to catch and release 4 of the braver souls, all about a foot long. There was also a small dogfish swimming around for a while which was cool.

The Revs lost their 2nd game of the season on Saturday. They’re missing a few of the top guys who are off with the US National team and the folks that were left just couldn’t get the job done. Not to worry however. The full Revs team is still the best 11 in the league and they will not miss the playoffs, so getting some quality minutes for the younger guys is good in the long run. Much worse than the loss is that I fear I’ve slipped from first place in my Revs prediction league for the first time all season. If I’m going to be a nerd, then I want to be the best nerd, and second place just isn’t good enough.

It took me 3 games to hit a home run. I also drilled the little pitcher guy once which was fun too.  0 comments

america the beautiful
Reen and I just got back from church. To close the service we sang Hymn number 440 entitled "O beautiful for spacious skies", which we know better as America the Beautiful. It just so happens that the church we were in used to be overseen by a Pastor Bates who had 5 children, the youngest of which was named Katherine. This girl Katherine, who may have one day sat in the very pew that Reen and I occupied this morning, would leave Falmouth and go on to Wellesley College. In 1893 Miss Bates, who was lecturing a summer session at Colorado College, joined an expedition to the summit of Pikes Peak in a prairie wagon. She wrote in her notebook, "It was then and there, as I was looking out over the sea-like expanse..." that she scribbled down into her notebook the 4 stanzas that would become adopted as our country's second national anthem, which we were now singing. It was kind of neat to be standing in that church, singing that song on the weekend when we are celebrating our nation's independence. Happy 4th of July everybody!  1 comments

a night on the water
I got out fishing last night. A really beautiful night on the water. Very calm, with just enough breeze to keep the bugs away. Tons of large sand eels in the water, flipping about making a ruckus. It’s so interesting to be out there at night, it’s amazing how alien everything sounds when you can’t see very well. The small waves gurgling on the beach, the throaty coughs from waves passing within the big rocks on the jetty, a goose honking from the other end of the harbor, I really felt like a visitor.

Looking back from the water towards the small drumlin where I left the jeep, the low bushes and marsh were alight with fireflies. It looked like an aerial shot of the kickoff to the superbowl or the opening ceremonies at the Olympics, where 60,000 camera flashes are going off all at once. I’ve never seen anything like it, not at Pogue, not and Hancock Point, nowhere.

I was happy to be able to safely navigate the 1/4 mile or so off the sand flats, through the marsh and grass back to the car, without flipping on my flashlight.  0 comments