Sept. 10 — Cruise 2, Day 4 — Niantic Bay To The Anchorage In The Mouth Of The Pawcatuck River, 17 NM

 Underway for 3.1 hours this morning and 3.1 engine hours tells the story. No wind. The Niantic anchorage was roly with gentle swells on otherwise dead calm water. Lene’s wise comment: “Let’s not come here again.” Later, underway,  the wind came up from astern but at our boat speed so no apparent wind. The only interesting thing about the short passage was that I took the northern route — inside large rocky shoals off the coast of Connecticut. Analogous to the passage between Stepping Stones and Kings Point at home, but longer, the northern passage is well marked and easy under engine with a chart plotter.

We have visited Watch Hill RI several times: passing through the breakwaters south of Stonington, and avoiding Academy Rock, one follows a long narrow channel SE through Little Narragansett Bay and then turn right, at its end to Watch Hill’s large open anchorage. But this time we turned left, into the mouth of the Pawtucket River. My objective was to add a port that we missed at the end of our grand tour of RI in 2019. I had planned then, to anchor here and visit the town of Westerly RI by dink. That was after calling every marina and yacht club along the River that might offer dockage or moorings for a boat ILENE’s size, with no luck. One of them told me that a restaurant had a dinghy dock and we made reservations for lunch. But that was for the day after we had survived  hurricane Dorian on Block Island and it was at the end of our 2019 cruise and Lene told we that we had “had enough!”

So this day was devoted to making ILENE’s 2019 tour of RI more complete. We anchored where the chart said there were eight feet of water with 40 feet of chain and lots of swing room between us and groups of moored boats north and south of us, on the Connecticut side of the river. The blue dot.

 But I failed to consider the fullness of the moon, which causes higher high tides and lower lows. We came in near high, and at low we had only six inches of water below our keel.  After lowering, pumping up and cleaning bird mess from the dinghy, and folding the chart in quarters so it fit into a one gallon zip lock bag, we motored up the river to The Bridge, a decent restaurant overlooking the river just below the low bridge where Main St., aka Route one, crosses the Pawcatuck. At that point the river has narrowed to perhaps only 40 feet wide and it is the end of navigable water. The Bridge offers a mossy dinghy dock and they let us stay after lunch to tour downtown Westerly. Westerly is the southwesternmost town in RI and across the narrow river via Main Street is the town of Pawcatuck, Connecticut. Westerly has a huge elegant Public Library,

for a town of only about 20,000 folks with a lovely public park and war memorial behind it. Across the street is the Courthouse in the City Hall, with the theater a few doors away. Altogether, it is an elegant and imposing civic center for what is a small town  of only about 20,00 folks. And it is surrounded by shops and galleries. The dinghy ride was 4.2 NM each way, about a 45 minute ride, and the longest workout that the dink’s outboard has had in years, perhaps in its life.

The only shop we visited was Mcquades, a supermarket. 

 And it brought back a memory of my first Club cruise, with my ex, on the 28 foot Pearson “Just Cause” back in maybe 1991. The Club  had “Theme Nights” — on its cruises, shared potluck dinners. Somehow it was “German Night” and we were anchored in Watch Hill and needed veal for weiner schnitzel. But Watch Hill has no food markets, we learned. What to do? “There is a market just a short ways up the road” we were told. “A short ways” is a very subjective and slippery term. After a lovely six mile hike through old elegant homes we scored our veal in Mcquades, and took a cab back to Watch Hill. In those days we rowed our dink. This trip was much easier by sea than that one by land. The next pictures show the long distance to RI,  our closeness to CT and the beginning of the dinghy ride to Westerly.