We moved in in September and figured out within weeks that the perfection came with a major flaw….it was not fully winterized. With no fireplace, an aging, oil guzzling furnace and poor insulation, we learned to dress warmly. The view became a frigid landscape as ice soon covered the dock and frost dusted the marsh as the tides rose and fell daily. It was a long winter.
Finally it was spring and a reprieve from the ice chest. As the weather warmed, we ventured out more and more and soon it was time to put our sagging pier to use. We cleaned off the tiny boat that had spent the winter upside down on the dock, bought a two (yes, two!) horsepower motor, life jackets and oars…our maritime careers now ready to begin. We explored the shoreline of Greenwich and its environs, ogling the mansions that lined the shore and the sailing and motor yachts that graced the docks. Envy was our middle name.
Our forays into the sound took on greater significance when fishing was added to the mix. Captain Bill (at this point, admittedly only the captain of a eight foot, fiberglass skiff) acquired tackle, lures and local knowledge. Bluefish and stripers were seriously pursued and often caught creating good news/bad news situations. The good news, of course, is that you’ve caught a fish. The bad news, unfortunately, is that he’s a strong swimmer. We discovered that a healthy striped bass, weighing, say 15 pounds, could, without much effort, pull our little boat behind it wherever it chose to swim! This was amusing at first, but could become problematic if we were in an area with moorings, other boats, or docks. Ultimately, the only thing to do was fight to bring them onboard or let them go. Most lived to swim another day.
One day, Bill decided that the thing to do was to use live eels as bait. Where he got this idea I do not know, but a pair of eels were bought, brought home in a cooler and the games began. Just so you know, a live eel being used as bait is a very unhappy critter who is not easily coerced onto a hook. They have tiny, razor like teeth and are as slippery as…. you guessed it. Bill finally wrangled the two guys onto hooks with steel leaders and stuffed them back into the cooler for the short trip out into the sound. I would not get into the little boat until the eels were properly controlled and there was no danger of their escape into the open cockpit. I honestly don’t remember if the eels produced a better result than any other sort of bait, but we still laugh about being in the cramped skiff with such vile and slimy creatures.
And so, memories of Old Greenwich savored, we continued our journey down Long Island Sound towards New York. Leftover rain and winds from “Lee” and the potential threat from” Katia” made entering a marina a prudent idea. Our first three choices for dockage were in Greenwich, Mamaroneck and Larchmont. They were all full. So, we opted for the North Minneford “Yacht” Club on City Island, NY from a guide full of possibilities and prepared to hunker down and wait out the storms. We would have the luxury of unlimited fresh water, shore power to give our generator a rest and an easy walk to a market for provisions. Perfect!
We dock and settle in. The next morning we don our rain gear to check out the town and discover that we have landed in the Bronx! Who knew? City Island is a small, narrow bit of rock just north of the Throg’s Neck Bridge, Hell Gate and the entry to the East River. We are well positioned for the next leg of the trip. The weather, however, has not cooperated and one of our lines has snapped from the strain of the wind during the early morning hours. Tom, from a neighboring sailboat, comes to help and brings two extra lines to make us more secure. Let’s Dance is now bound to the wave-washed dock by no less than 8 lines! We are snug and secure for another soggy day.
Two more days on City Island and we are practically natives. Only our accents betray us as southerners. Tomorrow we head out, but for tonight we are feted by the locals --
Let’s Dance……Carol and Bill
