8-21-2010 Odarkhundred Nashawena Beach Well, the spectacle of night at anchor continues. First of all, the sound and motion. Water slapping the hull of the Susie P, of the Diaper Rash dinghy. Waves on the beach just a few feet downwind. Some clanging of halyards against aluminum mast. Some cricket noises from the meadows and copses of Nashawena. Occasional sleep sounds of boats passing further out, airplanes passing overhead. Then the movement. A kind of gyrating mixing movement, compounded out for the waves hitting a little off center and the tubby Susie P reacting with a little lift, a swerve, and a roll. Once set off, it continues for several cycles, a few seconds each, and then damps out until re-excited by the next wave train. Not enough to throw me out of the bunk, and neither Fuji nor I seem to be sick, but still movement. We are sleeping out in the cockpit, on a one seat that folds out to be a table or a bunk, and the foam cushion from the fo'csl. A little too stuffy down below. And besides, there is the movement of the air, and the smells of eel grass fron the beach, filled with the dying and the living eating them, all contributing to the smell. And the night sky, first with an early almost full moon rise, and then, much later, moonset and the amazing intensity of Orion's belt far to the East, and the Big Dipper, pointing the way North overhead. I wake frequently, hanging on to the furled sail and boom to comfortably pee over the side, downwind. And drink some water, pat Fuji where she has burrowed into the sleeping bag, and go back for another cycle through dreams. All boats and water, and not much theme that I can remember. A lot of my dreams are focussed on arranging things, or getting things in order. Hmmm. Only occasionally sex. Not always hetero. Hmmm Not really well remembered in conscious daytime life.
And then its getting light in the East, behind the island, and the color is coming back to the waters reflections, a little wind out of the North, and, as we get into the Diaper Rash to row the few feet to shore, the first light striking the highest points on Cuttyhunk. Another walk along the beach, you never see all the good stuff with just one pass. A tapestry of fishnet and barnacles. Very smelly. A staff worthy of Moses..got several of those already. 4 left shoes...whats the odds of that? And of course, the usual riprap of lobster bouys, long line bouys, beer cans and plastic Bic lighters, mixing with the eel grass and bits of styrofoam.
Wet by the waves, the pebbles brought by the glaciers are amazing.Granites of all colors, from white/yellow to blue/black, with a lot of red. Basalts. Quartz of all colors. Some puddingstones, aggregates, but most of them are soft enough to be sand already. I pick up some for future necklaces.
Fuji wants to go inland, and we found a cowpath marked liberally with cowpats in various stages of dehydration. No poison oak on this well worn path. No cows in evidence. Highland cattle are generally friendly, or at least uninterested,but they look dangerous and engaged, hair in their eyes or standing on end. We zig and zag around some patches of catbriar and bayberry, seeing no poison ivy at all. The shore growth gives way to mostly knee high dry grass, with the patches of stuff harboring all sorts of wonderful smelling things that Fuji would like to have a close encounter with. Her tail waves behind her as she burrows into a particular tempting patch. I watch a rabbit exiting from the other side. Hmm, no word for that in our shared vocabulary. She did kill a whole nest full of young rabbits next door, dutifully bring home bunny after dead bunny in gentle jaws...and we didnt punish this natural behavior. There ARE too many rabbits. And punishing anything so natural wouldnt be a clear message. On the other hand, cats are strictly off limits. Probably could stop an impetuous kitten grab...except by avoiding the circumstance.
The sun is up. There are boats out in the Bay. Time to get off this forbidden land and sail to Penikese and then, who knows?
No comments:
Post a Comment