The rest of our 4th of July celebrations took on a decidedly nautical theme. Sophie went to drop Anika off so she could participate in the neighborhood's 4th of July parade float delegation, and she got impressed into service as a can (yes here she is as can #7 – check out the sneakers).
Renee got to wear the nun outfit, though I'm sure it wasn’t what her husband imagined when he heard about it. Sophie's first comment after the parade: "I liked it better in the can."
Anika got a free ride in one of the road-modified dyer dhow sailing dinghies.
Meanwhile, I hung out on Norwood road with my feet up enjoying my coffee and muffin and snapped the occasional photograph.
Later in the day, we set off on a leisurely sail from Manchester over to Peddock’s Island at the Southeast entrance (Nantasket Roads) to Boston Harbor. We joined up with the Creighton family who had sailed out on their boat, cooked some ribs on the grill, and sat back to take in the fireworks.
None of the fireworks were overhead, but from our vantage point we could watch fireworks from Marblehead, to Revere to Lynn, Boston, Dorchester, Quincy, Hingham and Hull. At one point Lucas counted over twenty-five different sets of fireworks on the Horizon.
The next morning we rowed ashore to Peddock’s and tramped through the poison ivy to check out the ruins of Fort Andrews and the surrounding barracks and cottages. It looks more like the set of a Stephen King novel than a tiny island within a few miles of downtown Boston.
Even in the full light of day it’s a little creepy and had me thinking about the Isle’s of Shoals axe wielding murder Louis Wagner from Anita Shreve’s book The Weight of Water.
The inner part of the island is like the Brazilian rainforest – we followed more than one path that dead-ended in impenetrable brush. We figured they were works in progress – not that this did us any good as we had to backtrack to the beach to get to our rowboats before the were swept away with the tide.
On the way back to Manchester we stopped over at civil-war era Fort Warren on George’s Island – a much more civilized and well-cared-for spot than Peddock’s. We clambered all over the gun emplacements, took in the views of Boston and the outer islands, and explored the ammunitions bunkers built into the foundation of the fort. Very cool – and a good thing we had flashlights for the dark, dank bunkers. The sail back from George’s to Manchester was perfect – all the way to the mooring on a single tack.
Sophie drove expertly.
We woke the next morning to a pretty thick fog
but later in the day that gave way to clearer skies and we sailed around the north shore with cousin Chris and Aunt Lisa and Uncle Dick.
We even got the asym out of the bag for the last downwind leg.
Now if we can just find out way back to that can # 7 …… it seems to have gone missing.
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