trishlaplaca BLOCK ISLAND, RHODE ISLAND Original Post October 21, 2022
Jeff and I were loath to count down the last days of this season’s ocean adventure and so were determined to get in as many good trips as we could. We woke up in Point Judith, Rhode Island on a glorious sunny morning and Jeff suggested we cruise out to Block Island. We’d each been to this trendy summer destination plenty of times, mostly via a ferry from the mainland. Why not? I thought. We could walk the charming streets lined with true New England-y victorian homes and enjoy cocktails on the water. What could be nicer?
We broke out of the calm harbor surrounded by the rock jetty, but instantly realized that this ride was going to be choppy. I left Jeff to steer Oyster from above on the flybridge and went down below to the salon. It was an uncomfortable start, but neither of us thought the cruise would be especially terrible. Oh, how wrong we were.
Within minutes major waves were hitting us broadside. They arrived in consistent sets of threes, rocking Oyster so violently from side to side that at times it felt like we could topple over. Every once in a while a massive wave would crash over the bow, slamming its heavy sprays of water against the front windows of the salon hard enough to invoke visions of the movie “The Perfect Storm”. Okay, so maybe there wasn’t any real comparison, but it still felt no less dramatic to me as a cupboard door flung open and two coffee cups flew out to crash and shatter on the floor. I gripped the dining table. I wasn’t so much concerned for my own life but was crazy with worry for Jeff. He was stuck up there, alone and vulnerable battling the worst of it. By the time we arrived to Block Island we were two wiped out little puppies. Only 12 simple miles away from the mainland, this first hellish ride on Oyster jarred us.
Jeff and I were exhausted and emotionally battered. All we wanted was to be tied up to the security of a dock. No anchoring, no mooring ball. Just a comfortable dock we could jump off and on to do a little touring. It had actually been over a week that we’d been on land. The expense of docking was a ridiculous indulgence, though – $270 per night – just to stay on your own boat! They didn’t even provide wi-fi! It was a stupidly exorbitant rip-off, but worth every penny to us at that moment. No way could we spend an uncomfortable night after what we’d just endured. We paid the outrageous fee, did our touring, and went out to a nice lunch and dinner. I felt so unsettled that I didn’t even take one photograph until we were heading out the next morning. We got away as fast as we could. It’s funny – for as much as we each had our own fond memories of the island from our younger days, suffice it to say that we’d probably had enough now to last us a long while!
SNEAK PEEK Join me in my next blogs as I share what ended up to be some of the most special highlights of our journey so far – the sweetest of sweet village of Greenport on Long Island, New York and then finally cruising up the Connecticut River towards Oyster’s winter home. Happier, more positive chapters are promised!
