Fireworks Overnight

2 July 2017

This year, we took out the sailboat to watch the Marion town fireworks display from the water, while at anchor.  This was a novelty for me, although the Port Admiral used to do this in her youth.  Such a simple thing, but oh so complicated.  There were a number of different websites that offered information about various fireworks displays through Massachusetts.  You just can't believe everything you read on the interwebs.

The Fourth of July weekend brought some hot, humid days.  On Sunday, July 2, the Admiral and I were eager to get out of the house for some fresh air, so we went down to the boat at around 4:00pm.  Kalliopi was coming down to visit a Wellesley friend whose family owns a waterfront house on Marion's Piney Point, so we motored by and waved hello.  At 5:30, we dropped the hook in Sedge Cove, just off the private Piney Point Beach, sheltered from the southeast winds in the lee of Butler Point.  We spent a couple of relaxing hours there, reading and dozing.  Towards early evening, a powerboat filled with boisterous merry-makers pulled in and anchored a short distance away, shattering our quiet solace.  With all the ocean to choose from, why did they have to anchor right on top of us?

Intruder Alert: A raucous family disturbs the peace.... 

Enduring their loud, brash behavior for about an hour, we decided to weigh anchor and head over to Planting Island, from where we planned to watch the fireworks display at Silvershell Beach, across Outer Sippican Harbor.  It took about an hour to get there, motoring around Bird Island, through the chop.  Along the way, I tried to mark the location of all the lobster pot buoys we sighted, in order to watch for them on the return trip after dark.

Bird Island Light, from the west

By the time we arrived, around 8:30pm, Kalliopi and her friend were at the Planting Island Causeway Beach, and watched us come in and drop the anchor a few dozen yards from the shore.  What did not work, however, was the anchor light atop the mast.  I don't know whether I connected the wiring incorrectly or there is a problem with the LED light itself.  All I do know is that Kalliopi confirmed from shore that there was no all-around white light shining atop the mast to indicate we were at anchor.

Instagram Greeting from my daughter, taking from the shore.

That's me on the bow, setting the anchor.  At least I know my steaming light on the mast works.

I grabbed a small plastic lantern from inside the cabin, clipped it to a spare halyard, and ran it up the mast.  "Now I see it!" she texted me.  In the wind and pitching waves, that halyard got tangled around the mast and I could not lower the lantern later -- but that is another story.

Marion fireworks from the boat...

After the display ended, around 10:00pm, the Port Admiral suggested that perhaps we might spend the night on the boat.  I was astounded, having never anticipated she would be interested in doing such a thing.  I was also a little unprepared.  I did have some sheets, and a couple of small boat pillows -- but no blankets, sleeping bag, change of clothes, or my C-PAP machine.  All the same, I saw this as a great opportunity: if only she could enjoy this first overnight aboard Piao, then maybe we could start making overnights together to Quisset, Cuttyhunk, or the Vineyard.

Thinking it would be more comfortable for her, I suggested we shift our anchorage to Wings Cove, which would be more protected from wind and waves than where we were anchored at Planting Island.  So we headed out into the dark, the Admiral scanning the dark waters ahead of us with a hand-held spotlight, searching for dreaded lobster pot buoys.  Lots of people do not like being on the water at night, but I enjoy it.  I was much more concerned about the condition of the V-berth, where she would sleep.  I sail alone a lot, and all my overnight trips thus far have been alone.  I sleep in the quarter-berth, at the companionway, where I can quickly hop up on deck if the need arises.  The V-berth is where I usually stow a lot of extra gear, food, water, and equipment.  I had to shift stuff around a bit to make some space for her in there, and it got a little crowded and messy in the (tiny) "main cabin."  We pulled into Wings Cove and anchored in the darkness at 11:00pm, settling down to a well-earned nightcap.  I set an anchor alarm on the GPS chartplotter, and we turned in for the night.  I fell asleep immediately, as usual.

The Port Admiral ferreting around in the cabin at night.

"All this shit you bring along," she chides me.  "This is BLOATING, no boating!"

About an hour or two later, I was buffeted awake to the realization of a real "rookie" mistake: I had anchored on the more exposed side of Wings Cove, across from the more sheltered mooring field.  The waves were not very big, but all through the night they came at a frequency of less than 1.5 seconds.  Poor little Piao rolled from side to side, in a thirty-degree arch.  All. Night. Long.  I few times the rocking was so violent that it nearly threw me out of the quarter-berth.  The Admiral did not sleep, either.

Our poorly-selected overnight anchorage

Around 4:30am, as the sky began to lighten, we just gave up trying to sleep.  "So where is this coffee you say you can make me?" demanded the Admiral.  I pulled out the JetBoil (I had yet to fuel the alcohol stove) and filled a stainless steel camping pot with freshwater.  There is something really special about sipping G7 Trung Nguyen Gu Manh X2 Double Strength Vietnamese Instant 3-in-1 Coffee in the pre-dawn twilight.

"Red in Morning...."

I offered to fix us some breakfast, but since the only victuals I had aboard were soups, canned sardines, and instant oatmeal, the Admiral ordered me to shape a course for home.

Mommigrand, my friend Ric's Pearson 34, on its mooring in Wings Cove

We motored back to Dexter's Cove and picked up the ball by 6:15am.  We left everything on the boat, and left it in chaos -- "we will come back later and clean it all up," we (falsely) promised ourselves.  Coming home, we showered, climbed into bed, and promptly slept until 10:30.

Homeward bound in the early morning light....

Despite the sleepless night rolling in Wings Cove, the Admiral expressed an interest in perhaps doing another overnight sometime -- as long as we did it in the shelter of a protected harbor.

Aye aye....

Total Distance: 13.5nm

Total Time Aboard: 14h15m