We were just gonna motor around Bird Island and back; a short cruise so we’d have some hot water for a night on our Wareham mooring. But once we were out there in the brilliant sunshine and sparkling seas we were hooked. So we made a new plan:
“Want to go to Sippican?” I toss it out there. The XO fields the question like Dustin Pedroia and quickly whips it back to me.
“Can we anchor?” she asks.
I scoop it up on one bounce like Mike Napoli on first base.
“I’ll check the Cruising Guide.”
Grabbing the well-worn book, I flip to the correct page.
“There is no anchoring allowed in the harbor proper,” I read aloud.
“But I’m up for a mooring,” I continue undeterred, and call the phone number for Barden’s Boat Yard, the first of three listings. I get a recording saying they are closed until Monday morning.
All three marinas: Barden’s, Burr Brothers, and Beverly Yacht club, have launch service in busy Sippican Harbor, and they all use channel 68, so as soon as we round Bird Island Light, I tune the radio to channel 68, key the mic, and in my clearest, manliest voice, say:
“Sippican launch, Sippican launch. Motor vessel Ginger Lee, over.”
“BYC launch. Go Ginger Lee.”
“Got a mooring overnight? Over.”
“Affirmative Ginger Lee. Length, draft, and current position?”
“Thirty-two, two-and-a-half, just passing Bird Island, over.”
“Solid copy. When you get inside call me and I’ll meet you at green nine.”
“Good copy launch. Ginger Lee standing by six eight.”
We marvel at the phrase: “solid copy” which we never heard before. “I’m definitely going to use that one,” I announce.
Sippican Harbor, Marion, is the closest port to us. So close in fact, that we hardly ever go here. On this amazing picture perfect day, vowing to visit more often is easy as pie.
This is one of those rare open harbors where sailboaters can easily maneuver to and from their moorings completely on wind power.
Apparently there is a sailboat race! We watch as dozens of Herreshoff 12-1/2s zoom all around amidst a backdrop of gorgeous waterfront homes.
Morning brings us gusty winds and cloudy skies. The water is active, busy and white-capped. I get the percolator going and watch a small boat with three fishermen in drab rain coats leave the inner harbor. Coffees in hand, smiles all around, ready for a fun day of fishing, they gesture and talk excitedly as they disappear from view behind Ram Island. Ten minutes later they return behooded, huddled, and defeated. “Must be rough out there,” I say to myself.
I lay out a dozen pieces of bacon in the big frying pan and set the burner on low. I’m cooking my favorite boat breakfast: bacon and eggs where you scoop the hot bacon fat over the eggs to cook the top. I learned it from my mom.
“Smells sooo good,” the XO says from under the covers.
“I know. It’s almost ready. You up?” I ask. Silly question. Warm arms around my waist and a kiss on the back of neck confirms that she is most definitely up.
The trip home is lumpy. Three foot seas give Ginger Lee her first salt water bath of the season. I’m not surprised there are no other boats out here, but like I said, it’s a short trip, and once we get on the other side of Bird Island, in protected waters, it’s smooth sailing.
I would have liked to hang around Sippican Harbor longer. What’s not to like?