Shelter Island, Long Island Sound

The sun was shining this morning, the wind was down and the air was warmer.  After breakfast, the last of our muffins from the Mystic Seaport Bakery, we took the dinghy to the northeast shore of the Great Salt Pond on Block Island. Rolling up our jeans, we pulled it up on the sand and cobbles among kayaks and sailing dinghies beached there.

Picturesque scene on Great Salt Pond (so I took a picture!)

We had hoped to spot some wildlife along the shore, but we could only hear the birds, not see them. Mostly, it was pleasantly peaceful.  We walked along Andy's Way to Corn Neck Road and then walked in the grass beside it, heading north.  The rolling land was divided by stone walls.  There were more trees than on the southern part of the island, although mostly there were open fields and thickets of berries growing among the shrubs.  We passed lovely homes, some with weathered shingles and some in lucent colors bordered with white gingerbread--coconut, butter and strawberry.

House in shades of coconut

Butter colored house with wavy shingles under the gable

The Red House

One of Peter's knees has been bothering him since we were in Baltimore in August, so we turned back to the beach after a mile or so.  Back on Mantra, we put the dinghy engine on its mount on the aft railing, hauled the dinghy up on the foredeck, took off the instrument covers, turned the instruments on, got out life jackets and sailing gloves in the pilot house and opened the logbook.  The engine was on, and in less than 10 minutes, Peter had used the windlass to pull up over 100 feet of chain as I steered into wind, and we set off.  There is a sense of freedom and adventure every time the anchor is free, and we steer for a new destination.  Our destination today was to the west, to Shelter Island on Long Island Sound.  We sailed close-hauled for a few hours with a good wind from the southwest until late in the afternoon when the wind decreased and we had to use the "iron genoa," the engine.

We normally try to anchor before sunset, and we often anchor just as the sun is setting, but we miscalculated today.  (I think Peter forgot that the hours of daylight are getting shorter.)  We watched the sun set over Shelter Island and then made it to the narrow and shallow channel into Coecles Harbor on the east side of the island.  Luckily, the cans and nuns are lighted, and we had just enough light at dusk to see the flow of the current run through the two shoals jutting out into the channel at the entrance.

Sunset over Shelter Island

It is calm in this anchorage; we are well protected from the southwest wind.  We are far enough from the intense night lighting of intensely populated areas, so I am going up above now to enjoy the stars with Peter.