personal news

Not too far from where I took the pictures of the train, I got a photo op on the seaward side. This is where the Cape Cod Canal lets out into Massachusetts Bay. The tidal current was running strong. Boats traveling north were moving appreciably faster than those inbound into the current.

I found myself wanting to attach stories to the boats I was seeing. For example, this red-edged Coast Guard patrol boat kept station near this white boat for a few minutes, then pulled closer, and finally turned and headed out to sea. Was its crew rendering assistance, or writing a traffic ticket?

What is this big red barge carrying, I wonder? It’s low in the water, heavily laden. What’s in its hold: Fuel oil? Flat-screen TVs? Frozen fish sticks? WD-40? I didn’t see any Flammable warning signs on it, so I’m guessing not oil. But I don’t know. After it left the canal, it turned westward, probably heading toward Boston. Bringing the good people of Boston a great load of… what?

This tug was following close behind it, and when the barge was out of the canal, the tug did a 180 and headed back south. It must have been following to lend assistance if needed, in the strong currents. If I were to own a tugboat, this is the one I would want! But…the fuel bill!

And then came along the Canal Patrol boat, all steely and black. If I were to have a fast-moving, seaworthy roundabout, would I want this one or that red Coast Guard boat? Hard choice. They both look tough as nails. But when that USCG boat opened up its twin Honda (I think) outboards, it took off over the waves! I think I pick that one.

And finally, this one. How can anyone afford a boat like this? And why would you? It doesn’t even any open deck space, to speak of. And what’s the point of going out into the ocean if you’re not going to have the sea wind in your hair? To this one, I say no. Sometimes you just have to draw the line.

And sometimes you’ve gotta just look at the sea and the coastline, and marvel at its God-given beauty.

I was away for a while at a Sherrick reunion—that is to say, a gathering of many of my cousins on my mother’s side of the family, the Sherricks. It was great. I love my cousins, and I hadn’t seen a lot of them for many years, not since the then-patriarch of the family, their dad and my Uncle John, passed away ten years ago. There were a couple of spouses I had never met.

We all gathered in a beach house on the coast of North Carolina, close to where some of them are living now. Julia and I represented the Carver family, while Allysen stayed with the still-recovering-from-bike-crash Lexi. We got a lot of sun, surf, and good company. What a family of over-achievers. One, an agricultural economist, sits on Obama’s agriculture board and rebuilds houses in his spare time. One manages field development of products for a very large agricultural supply company. Several are teachers. One is recently retired after a career as head ranger at multiple national parks. That’s just a sampling, and that’s just in my own generation. The kids are scary smart.

So we talked and laughed, and lost sunglasses in the ocean, and played Cranium, and drank beer and margaritas. The leader types organized dinner teams, and each team planned in secret and created amazing dinner experiences. I didn’t cook, but I did my bit by making frozen margaritas.

Here I am, caught in a moment of scintillating conversation.

And here’s some of the crew trying to take an inflatable raft to sea. Yes, there are people on that raft. And probably one or two under it, at any given moment.