North, At Last
12 June 2018 | Portsmouth New Hampshire
We haven't wasted any time since leaving Newport. We went right past Cuttyhunk, missing Lisa and Greg on Privateer, and then we kept on past Mattapoisett, home of Chuck and Karen on Max. We went all the way to Provincetown. Ptown may be a very nice place, but we wouldn't know because we didn't go ashore. It's not welcoming to a quick overnight for transient yachts. The moorings are $2.50 per foot, which seemed a lot to pay for an 8 hour layover and all the anchorage area is taken up by private moorings. We ended up anchoring on the far side of the breakwater but it was not a comfortable night, very rolly and noisy. This along with many other experiences has made us realize how much we enjoyed cruising the European Atlantic coast. The costs of moorings and marinas this side of the ocean are outrageous comparatively. And, when you get ashore here you are usually in some remote spot with no services -- surely not in the heart of a harbor town with daily markets. We left Provincetown at daybreak for Portsmouth NH and got in here around 17:30, well before sunset. Once we left Cape Cod we knew we were definitely back in the north Atlantic. The skies were cloudy and grey. The water was black. And it was cold! I even dug out my wool socks and boots. Later in the day the sun came out, the water color changed to that northern greenblack, and we saw a whale. Such happiness. Portsmouth Yacht Club is very welcoming and small--just a yacht club, no pool, no restaurant, nice building with clean showers, moorings with a launch service, our kind of place. Jerry, the steward, gave us a ride to BG'S Boathouse, the local lobster shack, where we feasted on steamers and lobster. We had planned to Uber back to the yacht club before the launch operator went home at 8pm but I was having some trouble with my phone apps so Jack talked some people leaving the bar into driving us. A very kind woman took us here and said to pay it forward. We may stay a couple of days and rest and soak up the northern atmosphere before continuing on to Portland. Today we walked into Strawberry Banke, that's right with an e which is sort of Portsmouth or at least the outskirts part. There is a municipal campus, a high school some shops, including a seafood and small gourmet grocery, as well as an itialian deli. The houses are old, from the 1700s. The island where we are was settled in 1623 and incorporated some 70 years later. Both places are a contrast in liberal and conservative, wealthy and working class. Last night the woman and realtor who drove us back to the marina pointed out a house she sold for 3+ million dollars. There were signs on lawns supporting planned parenthood. As we walked back some guy on a motorcycle passed us going both ways (not a state-of-the-art his orientation). His motorcycle was adorned with two full size flags, one was the stars and stripes and the other a trump flag stating the need to make America great again. I have compassion for both he and the yard sign guy who feel so threatened that they need to town crier their feelings. I would have liked to be able to talk to the biker to understand what specifically it is he wants, and if that need is being filled by trump. Last night at dinner we overheard this guy stating how proud he was that his sons were taking over his business, it made Jack feel as though he had let my father down. But we also overheard the mother next to us describe how her daughter was having a Harry Potter birthday party, which was to be her last themed birthday party. It made us appreciate what a service JK Rowling did for our kids. If we were to have book themed birthday parties I wonder what author we might choose. The wind is howling, the current in the river is swift, and hopefully the mooring is secure as night falls.
