At the Edge of the Sea

Cuttyhunk inner harbor from Lookout Hill

Rhode Island ranks worst among the fifty states for business in a recent CNBC poll. Perhaps the result of over eighty years of one party rule along with a touch of organized crime and more than a whiff of corruption. But in spite of the awful business climate, other surveys rank her relatively high in quality of life.

This disparity explains why residents hang in there and tourists continue to visit. Rhode Island is indeed the Ocean State, and that contributes to way-above-average livability. Her towns and cities, reaches and beaches, have a lot to offer.

Take Bristol, for instance, which we visited recently on an organized cruise of private craft exploring New England waters, which is our summer wont.

Founded in 1680, the town was originally part of the Plymouth colony, hence Massachusetts, until it was transferred by the  British crown to Rhode Island in 1747. Although over 12 miles north of the sea, Bristol was a deep water port and contributed mightily to the commerce of the colonies.

We docked at the Herreshoff Museum, staying several days, and explored the history and bounty of this historic town. The Herreshoffs were a family of remarkable marine designers and engineers, responsible for a series of huge, graceful racing yachts which defended, undefeated, the America’s Cup with five yachts between 1893 and 1920.

These boats, built for capitalists and bankers, may have seemed extravagant and wasteful at the time. But they employed many hundreds of Herreshoff craftsmen and supported their families and the town in which they lived. And brought some great measure of pride to many Americans thrilled to see the Americas Cup won year after year.

Later, the Herreshoffs retooled and built patrol torpedo boats and minesweepers for the U.S. Navy during World War II.  Their nautical engineering abilities were nearly endless, including all the above, sweet daysailers for children, and the hulls of flying boats. The museum is well worth a visit.

After enjoying the tree-lined streets, restaurants, and water views of historic Bristol for several days, we slipped into the top of the Sakonnet River and made our way, amongst angry, swirling tidal currents, into the broader, calmer waters below, headed for Sakonnet Point.

Technically in Little Compton, Sakonnet Point rests on the southeastern point of Rhode Island, where one may look north, reassuringly to land, or south to the open expanse of the North Atlantic. The small harbor there contains a mix of pleasure and working craft. Working boats bring back the bounty of the sea, their success witnessed by rows of seagulls in close ranks on the peaks of nearby buildings. And while the pretty sailing and motor craft of the leisure class adorn the docks, we are awakened by the deep throb of a heavy diesel engine, a working boat headed to sea at three a.m., her crew ready to labor as we drift back to sleep.

That morning, rain threatens, but we batten hatches and don foulies as we head out into the swells, turn east, destination Cuttyhunk, across nearly 20 miles of lumpy, windy, rainy seas.

Cuttyhunk is at the tail of the Elizabeth Islands, separating Buzzard’s Bay from Vineyard Sound. Part of the Massachusetts town of Gosnold, Cuttyhunk was originally occupied in 1602 for the purpose of harvesting sassafras. Today, she is a tourist mecca for boaters desiring a quiet sojourn. No bars. No liquor stores. No fancy restaurants.

One comes to Cuttyhunk to contemplate the views of the distant mainland and Martha’s Vineyard from Lookout Hill. To run on scimitar beaches and swim in friendly surf. To enjoy the fruits of the sea, delivered to moored craft by the “Raw Bar Boat.” To lie in the cockpit of their vessel and see the nighttime grandeur of the Milky Way, undimmed by city lights. The solitude, the beauty that is Cuttyhunk, reverently worshiped by the visiting boats who fill the inner harbor and overflow into the outer.

Grudgingly, the next day, we slip the mooring lines and turn west, sailing on a strong reach as the southerlies build. By midday, we are off the coast of Rhode island again. Past Newport, we turn up into the west passage of Narragansett Bay. Around the Beavertail light, we take shelter in Dutch Harbor. From here, we can hike the island of Jamestown or take the ferry to Newport. No shortage of bars or liquor stores here. And we are only a half day sail from our start, all protected, up the bay to our original departure point. A week well and truly spent.

But still, while glad to be home with all its familiarity and hustle and bustle, we do miss the limitless views of the sea. And that broad-stroke, bold, bright, beautiful Milky Way. Those are views your camera cannot properly capture.

Venture forth.