Cohasset Cool

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It’s early morning in Gloucester Massachusetts. We are following a couple of working boats as they head out the South Channel past Rocky Neck, Ten Pound Island, and Niles Pond. We joke about sounding the air-horn and throwing the lighthouse keepers kid a wave, like George Clooney in The Perfect Storm. To bad there’s nobody to wave to.
Even though the weather hasn’t quite sorted itself out yet, it’s sure looking like “wicked nice.” Todays seas are predicted to be one foot or less, which is awesome, and almost never happens. I was able to chart a straight line course right through Massachusetts Bay. For the next four hours we will be following one long heading from Gloucester’s Dog Bar Channel to our destination: Cohasset, Massachusetts.

Course

Course

All day yesterday I tried to reach Cohasset Harbor Marina, the only option listed for that small harbor, but it was like nobody was home. The phone kept ringing and ringing. I was planning on calling them this morning while underway, but we’re so far from shore that I can’t get a reliable signal.

There is not another boat in sight, no birds, no buoys, no anything. Not even clouds. We toy with the idea of bringing games with us for entertainment on long straight voyages like this one. Pop-o-matic Trouble would certainly work. I think we could play Yahtzee if we rolled the dice into the box top. Maybe next time. The ride is so smooth I’m able to whip up a cheesy 4 egg omelet with mushrooms, onions, peppers, mozzarella, and pepperoni. It tastes like pizza.

We're all alone in Massachusetts Bay.

We’re all alone in Massachusetts Bay.

Finally the lighthouse on Minots Ledge comes into view. We’re very close to Cohasset but still nobody answers the phone at the marina. I guess we’ll have to anchor in the outer harbor, which is not so bad, but I really wanted to stay in the well protected Cohasset Cove. There is one more thing we can try: the radio.
“Cohasset Harbormaster, Cohasset Harbormaster. Motor vessel Ginger Lee, over.”
“This is Cohasset. Go ahead Ginger Lee, over.”
“Good Morning. We were hoping you have a mooring for us overnight, over.”
“I probably do! What’s your length?”
“Thirty-two.”
“Head straight in. Call when you get to the breakwater. I’ll have someone meet you.”
“Solid copy Cohasset. Call you at the breakwater. Ginger Lee out.”
Yee haw! We’re in.

Cohasset approach.

Cohasset approach.

It’s very shallow here at low tide. Our depth gauge is bouncing between 3 and 4 feet. There’s a gaggle of young student sailors heading right for us. I know they have the right-of-way, but I have zero room to maneuver in this narrow channel. So we come to a dead stop. They’ll just have to go around us.

Sailing school.

Sailing school.

Cohasset mansion.

Cohasset mansion.

As promised, two young Harbormasters in a skiff meet us and show us to our mooring. They actually handed the XO the pennants. What service!

The XO.

Following the young Harbormasters. Whenever we dock or moor, the XO and I are always in direct contact with each other with our two-way headsets.

View forward.

View forward from our mooring.

View aft.

View aft.

After ten minutes we’re so taken by this gorgeous place that I call the Harbormaster and ask if it’s possible to stay longer than one night.
“Stay as long as you like,” was the answer. Cool.dscn9002

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