Sometimes it takes a visitor to make you realize how lucky
you are. We live our busy lives so much on automatic pilot that the special
things are not fully appreciated.
A visit from my sister, who had not been in New England for many years, gave us the opportunity to play tour guide and gain a fresh appreciation for what we have.
Hot dogs at Tex Barry's, dinner at the Heritage Tap in Pawtucket, picking up milk at Briggs Corner Store, breakfast at the Little Falls Bakery in Pawtuxet Village RI, dropping off the dry cleaning at Hank's, a quick haircut at Barberettes on Central Avenue, caused her to exclaim "You live in a virtual village!" Indeed. After many years, these folks have all become our friends, not just nameless faces. They have become an important part of the fabric of our lives, sharing a smile, appreciating our stories, and enquiring after our stalwart sailing companion Yogi. Just like a real village, these folks consist a network of friends who care about us, and in return for whom we care. Indeed.
Another benefit of playing tour guide is doing things we have never done before. For twenty years we sailed past and around Prudence Island in Narragansett Bay, but had never set foot ashore. It turns out that there is a clunky little ferry that serves Prudence, departing from Bristol harbor several times each day. On a perfect summer day we drive down through Rehoboth and make our way into Rhode Island and eventually, Bristol. The next ferry is at 3pm, so we have plenty of time to lunch at a waterside restaurant and observe the busy harbor. At the appointed time, we board the ferry and find a bench seat. A surprising, no, shocking number of vehicles are slotted aboard. We have seen the ferry from the water before, passing by, but did not realize that it could carry a dozen cars and trucks and a hundred passengers. Perspective is all, and once aboard we appreciate the bulk of a multi-tonned vessel.
The crossing to Prudence is fairly short, perhaps 30 minutes, with a lovely view of the receding Bristol shoreline and the ascendant Prudence hills. Upon landing, we find a small, multipurpose building housing the Post Office and a general store. The store provides islanders with groceries, hardware, snacks, dry goods, and fuel. For tourists, there are T-shirts, soda pop, and coffee. Yearning the latter, we ask for some and the charming 80-something clerk brews us a fresh pot. She is obviously a beloved fixture on the island. We witness regulars asking after her well-being as they purchase their Shredded Wheat and pick up rental DVDs.
Although situated proximately between North Kingstown and Portsmouth, Prudence has a feeling of seclusion. For the few year-round residents, students must take the ferry to attend school ashore. There is no access to the island but by boat, either ferry or private craft or water taxi. The isolation is palpable, and makes one view the distant mainland shoreline with a certain detachment. It is understandable that Prudence is popular for summer residents seeking respite from their mainland burdens.
Setting out south on the east shore road, we encounter a lighthouse which, in the days before LORAN and GPS, was a crucial fixture for commercial shipping plying the bay. But today it is abandoned, surrounded by salt grass and sea roses, a reminder of the rugged seafarers who supplied our growing cities and exported the fruits of our mills.
A visit from my sister, who had not been in New England for many years, gave us the opportunity to play tour guide and gain a fresh appreciation for what we have.
Hot dogs at Tex Barry's, dinner at the Heritage Tap in Pawtucket, picking up milk at Briggs Corner Store, breakfast at the Little Falls Bakery in Pawtuxet Village RI, dropping off the dry cleaning at Hank's, a quick haircut at Barberettes on Central Avenue, caused her to exclaim "You live in a virtual village!" Indeed. After many years, these folks have all become our friends, not just nameless faces. They have become an important part of the fabric of our lives, sharing a smile, appreciating our stories, and enquiring after our stalwart sailing companion Yogi. Just like a real village, these folks consist a network of friends who care about us, and in return for whom we care. Indeed.
Another benefit of playing tour guide is doing things we have never done before. For twenty years we sailed past and around Prudence Island in Narragansett Bay, but had never set foot ashore. It turns out that there is a clunky little ferry that serves Prudence, departing from Bristol harbor several times each day. On a perfect summer day we drive down through Rehoboth and make our way into Rhode Island and eventually, Bristol. The next ferry is at 3pm, so we have plenty of time to lunch at a waterside restaurant and observe the busy harbor. At the appointed time, we board the ferry and find a bench seat. A surprising, no, shocking number of vehicles are slotted aboard. We have seen the ferry from the water before, passing by, but did not realize that it could carry a dozen cars and trucks and a hundred passengers. Perspective is all, and once aboard we appreciate the bulk of a multi-tonned vessel.
The crossing to Prudence is fairly short, perhaps 30 minutes, with a lovely view of the receding Bristol shoreline and the ascendant Prudence hills. Upon landing, we find a small, multipurpose building housing the Post Office and a general store. The store provides islanders with groceries, hardware, snacks, dry goods, and fuel. For tourists, there are T-shirts, soda pop, and coffee. Yearning the latter, we ask for some and the charming 80-something clerk brews us a fresh pot. She is obviously a beloved fixture on the island. We witness regulars asking after her well-being as they purchase their Shredded Wheat and pick up rental DVDs.
Although situated proximately between North Kingstown and Portsmouth, Prudence has a feeling of seclusion. For the few year-round residents, students must take the ferry to attend school ashore. There is no access to the island but by boat, either ferry or private craft or water taxi. The isolation is palpable, and makes one view the distant mainland shoreline with a certain detachment. It is understandable that Prudence is popular for summer residents seeking respite from their mainland burdens.
Setting out south on the east shore road, we encounter a lighthouse which, in the days before LORAN and GPS, was a crucial fixture for commercial shipping plying the bay. But today it is abandoned, surrounded by salt grass and sea roses, a reminder of the rugged seafarers who supplied our growing cities and exported the fruits of our mills.
After several hours of hiking and enjoying both wild and
cultivated floral displays, we return to the ferry and make our way back to
Bristol. The ferry is nearly empty as,
on this summer Friday evening, most folks were headed out to the island, not
back to shore. The landing in Bristol is
uneventful, and a short 45 minutes later we are home and preparing a wholesome
spaghetti dinner.
This day has been full of adventure and sights and experiences,
a seemingly exotic journey only a relative few miles to the south. But for our visitor,
we should not have undertaken it for perhaps another twenty years.
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