6/24, Saturday - On our own to Gloucester

Gary and I decided to drive to Gloucester and look around at Fiesta.  This celebration is about the Italian and Portugese sailors and shipmen (builders and maintainers).  Town is busy with traffic and every so often the drawbridge is pulled up to let boats in the marina have access to the bay.  This causes a big traffic jamb with the extra traffic on the road.  We do not know this until a bit later.

We park by the baseball field and get our good walk in.  The weather is clear and warm.  It is Saturday and people have come from all over to this event.

Despite the flock of people, or because of it, everyone seams to be in a good mood.  We are walking on the nice, groomed sidewalk along Gloucester Bay.  People playing music, selling ices and cold drinks.  Girls dressed in summer finery (some are barely dressed).  We watch a kayaker manuver in to a little side inlet on the draw bridge to get back in to the marina.  Knowing the tides is key to boating here.

The main portion of Gloucester is all old buildings and narrow streets built around the fishing industry that has gone on here since the 1600's.  (Sandy and Ozzie tell us that Birdseye and Gorton's were started here).

There is a competition in this fiesta called the greasy pole.  A large pole is dressed with grease and levered out over the water (it's actually out in the water).  Men try to run to the end of the pole without slipping and falling in (cracking body parts, soft and hard, on the way to the water).  We did not get to see it but heard about it.  Lots of people were gearing up to go watch it in boats on the water and grand stands on shore.

We find our way back to Gloucester House restaurant and buy a gift certificate for dinner for our generous hosts and head back toward the car.

We get stopped by a raised draw bridge allowing boats from the Marina in to the bay.  Out they go, all joyous with wine in hand, fishing poles rigged for the day.  We think they are done when the boats go out and we will be able to get a cross and walk back to our car.  No...other boats have to come in.

This is the fun part.  Motorized boats of all sizes from 10 foot pontoon boats to 30 foot flying bridge fishing boats start heading in tho this narrow opening.

Going out with the tide is easy.  Getting back in, for some, not so so easy.  The sailors who have done this all their lives...piece of cake.  Those not so experienced were the most entertaining.  Losing their engines and getting pushed back by the river current, or pushed in to the sea wall.

A gentleman next to us started giving us a play by play when a large, sleek cigar boat headed in, then lost his engines.  He was pushed back in to the wall before he got his engines going again.  Might do some damage.  The guy says.  The boat starts forward again then looses his engines again and is pushed almost back to into the rocks at the end of the wall.  The engines start again and the captain muscles the boat forward, smacks in to the wooden pilings before clearing the narrow gap in to the marina.  The guy next to us says, by the look of that boat, he can afford the repairs.

The raised drawbridge is what is causing the traffic jamb we experienced earlier but it allowed us a good walk.

I realize this is the East coast in summer.  People flock in to Essex and Glouceter to view, shop, boat, fish, eat.  Crazy but also cool.  Mass accents on every corner.

Gary took me to one more second hand store but no luck finding pulls for Suzie's dresser.  We shopped for dinner and tonight I will make a casserole and salad for dinner.

At Conomo point we meet Ed, Sandy and Ozzie's neighbor who gladly shows Gary where his pace maker is.  The man is very nice but talking stops when we serve dinner.

Photos:  Box of antique door knobs and drawer pulls.  Sunset on Essex Harbor.

6/25, Sunday - A Kayak Paddle in Essex Bay

We plan to take Gilligan Tour today with ERBA (Essex River Basin Adventures).  This is Sandy and Ozzie's business (Sandy's runs this business, Ozzie supplies muscle and kayaking expertise).  The tour will be about 3 hours around Essex Bay greenway and Choate Island.  (very much history in this little spot).

We have a little time so I make scones for breakfast.

Gary takes me kayak accessory shopping.  We come away with UV protective shirts, Croakies (compliments of Sandy), waterproof telephone protectors.  I get a pair of river shoes.

The day is beautiful, sunny, hot.  We pick our boats and get sized in to the foot pedal steering (rudders on these kayaks).  We have 10 kayakers and 4 guides.

We get on the water when I get a call from Edith.  Uncle Butch has passed away from complications of pneumonia or renal failure.  We are not sure.  I am broken, here in a beautiful place, on the east coast in the water.  He was (is) such a strong thread in the weaving of my life.  Tears spring up.  Then I realize he is right with me, in all of this beauty, better than just yesterday because his pain is gone and his spirit is free.  So I carry on with this trip we have planned, with Uncle B wholly in my heart.

The guides try to guess where we are all from and they are sure my accent is from New York.  I think it so funny that mom's east coast brogue has followed me to California and now back to Essex.

We stop for a break on Choate Island.  While the guides walk the group to the top of the hill I make  7 stone prayer on the beach.  Because it is so, for Uncle B, for me.  Be aware, be free, be focused, be here, be loved, be strong, be healed.  In Hawaiian: Ike, kala, makia, manawa, aloha, mana, pono.

Once back in the water, Gary and I find ourselves lagging behind the others.  That may be because we are the oldest (He is) or because we are sad.

The weather starts to change and the guides decide to get us in to the landing at Essex Marina.  It is decidedly blacker than just a few hours ago.  As we near the Essex river outlet, we realize that many big fishing boats are coming in to get out of the potential storm.  They're coming in against the outgoing tide creates some hella-deep waves that cross over each other.

It is a tough paddle.  The guides tell us to keep our paddles moving to keep our center of gravity stable.  Serious waves that look like they will flip you over if you screw up.

Our lead guide Jackie gets us lined up like colorful ducklings and points us to paddle toward a blue portapotty on shore.  This if we paddle toward this point against the current will wind up in a good place on the water to put in on Conomo Point beach.  I am paddling like mad and the guide closest to me says "It's OK, relax, you have made it to the calm water for an easy put in".  That was more than my skill level on a kayak.  Oh well, my skill level is a little higher now.

6/26, Monday - Carrie's 40th Birthday

Carrie is a constant joy to me.  That is how my day started.  Even though we are mourning for Uncle Butch.

Today we abandon the Osborn's to their work and head north.  Gary suggests we are so close to Maine and New Hampshire we should drive up to those states.

We drive through little rural coastal towns, farm land, antique stores on the way to New Hampshire.  All the while looking at very old buildings and some new buildings.

We stop stop to park in the expen$ive parking find some public facilities.

I have gotten car sick and find a little convenience store that has packets of Dramamine.  The young Russian sounding fellows don't know what Dramamine is.  I explain and they search and find three different packagings of it.

We take another long walk on this free public beach "The Hampton Beach" and lots of people, all ages shapes size and colors on this beach this sunny Monday.

We stop and talk to real East coast lifeguard Nick, who will chat but he still has to watch the beach.  He says they train daily for this job, he is as trim a young man as I have seen on this trip.  He says many of the other life guards have their EMT certification, he has not gotten his yet.

While walking back to our car we discover that there has been a sand sculpture competition and these statues are interesting.  I have taken many photos of them.

We leave expen$ive parking and drive up to Maine for a brief coast line tour.  Million dollar homes on the coastal road way.

Time tells us to head back to Essex.  Ozzie has planned a Monday night potluck with steamed clams.  He has a group of friends that meet most Wednesday nights.  These fellows bring their wives.  Heather comes with Bouy, Triston is in and out.  We don't do justice to all of the clams Ozzie has steamed but we try until there is almost no room for the additional, delicious pot luck.   Sandy is as generous a hostess as I have ever met.

After dinner Ozzie lays a fire and the story telling starts.  Oh my goodness, what stories...about sailing to Canada, skiing, barns burning down.  Gary's tumble playing full contact golf.  Lots of laughs I can tell you.

6/27, Tuesday - Crane's Beach and the Castle at Crane's Beach

We are almost done with vacation.  The day starts with high overcast and light coats are the mode of dress.

Today Sandy lends us her car and we drive to Crane's Beach and Castle Hill in Ipswich, MA.  This acreage is part of the green-way.  The property was owned by industrialist Richard Crane (the bathroom company).   The refuge was established in 1974 by Mine Crane in memory of her husband Cornelius Crane.  Both are buried at the summit of Choate island.

So instead of million dollar houses and private beach it is open to the public with fees.  Because Sandy and Ozzie contribute, their car has a sticker and we get in to both the beach and the estate for free.

For more information on Castle Hill google search Castle Hill, Ipswich, Mass.

Because of weather we have the beach pretty much to ourselves.  It is a nice, long walk.  Gary has been making sure I get my steps in.  It is mid-tide so we do not get to see many shells though I do find one tiny sand dollar and a hermit crab that has not survived in a very nice snail shell.  We bury the hermit crab at sea and bring that shell home plus the quarter sized sand dollar.

We have missed the castle tour so tour around our selves and let me tell you, it is as nice as the Hearst estate on the McCloud river.  It started as an Italian style villa but was torn down and re-created as an English castle.  You could spend a whole day viewing the rooms down stairs and walking the manicured grounds.

After our tour, we head back to Essex for an afternoon of antiquing.  I realize I am beat.  The last store we go in I ask for ukulele.  The guy laughs and says his favorite instrument is the bela lika (sp) and he puts on a cd of that music.

Gary promises this is the last store but I can not pry him away from the Bela Lika guy so I go to the car to nap and wait.

While we are waiting to meet Osborn's for dinner it starts to rain in earnest and hail (big hail).  We do not tarry outside when we get to the restaurant "The Village"  I experience haddock. a light white fish of the east coast.  It's pretty tasty.

Lightening and thunder join with the rain in earnest when we get home.  Lots of different weather on the East coast.

6/28, Wednesday. Last Day in Essex

We are up to Coffee and left overs at the residence at the Barn.

I pull all the sheets and towels for laundry.  We get packed.  Ozzie comes for coffee as we get organized to leave.

Heather comes for a goodbye visit (with Bouy) before Sandy arrives.   Ozzie is going with us to the airport.

We return the rental car.  Traffic on the freeway is thick.  We stop for lunch at Kelly's Roast Beef and Gary has the $21.99 lobster roll sandwich for lunch.  After driving by all the restaurants all week this is where he get's his Mass. Lobster.

Ozzie takes us to Logan Airport via many short cuts.  We get Ozzie and Sandy in to and out of the airport congestion as soon as possible.  They will have a hectic drive back to Essex.

We are in the airport early and begin reading and waiting.

Our plane boards on time but two instances of fouled bathrooms put us back in dock for extra maintenance and delay our flight for about an hour.  We are going to miss our connection to Reno.  Once determining that, I call United and make a new reservation for the the following day.

The flight to California is an 8 hour flight (an all nighter).  Gary has brought the paddle pads but his butt starts hurting about half way through the flight.  I sleep (dramamine is my friend).  We both get up and move around about hour 5.  They turn the cabin lights of encouraging us to be quiet.

The fellow in the seat in front of me has a nice tablet and is watching House of Cards so I am caught up on that vile show.

We arrive in San Francisco at mid-night and are directed to Customer Service (between Gates 80 and 82) to find accomplished customer service rep Sherry D dealing with about 100 people who have missed their connection to Reno.  She takes good care of us with a room voucher at Holiday Inn and meal vouchers for the morning and a cute little pre-pack of goodies like tooth brush and paste.  Ours are still in our luggage at the air port.

Our room is nice but there is external noise.  I am sure I will not sleep but I sleep hard and am gratetful for it the next day.

6/29, Thursday - Early Morning In San Francisco to Reno

We woke up in San Francisco to fog.  We slept well despite the traumatic flight yesterday.

You must layer in San Francisco.

The van to the airport was full and the driver was funny, trying to engage us all and there were many races, ages and amounts of wakefullness on our van.

We arrived early to our Gate to find that our plane was already delayed!

We had breakfast on United Airlines.  Good sit down bacon and eggs breakfast.  Then let our food settle while we waited, and waited for our plane.

Once in the air our flight to Reno was only 33 minutes long.  Reno was HOT!!!

John picked us up at the airport and drove us to Carrie's where we picked up our car.

We went to Mortensen's for a glass of reviving cold water and to change in to our shorts and flip-flops.

A quick dinner in Susanville and then home to Mt. Shasta around sunset.

There is no place like home!!