Family Trip

Plans for our 2016 Thanksgiving were hatched over a year ago.  With both girls now in New England, we were hosted by my maternal uncle on Cape Cod.  Some cancelled and some were mildly ill, but our travels from Michigan were without issue, and by 2:30 PM on the day before Thanksgiving, my wife and I were reunited with our studious girls.  By 5 PM, we were on the Cape!

With fewer people in attendance and the hosting house less attractive due to illness, we had more time to be together as a nuclear family and extra time to explore.  It turned out to be a wonderfully relaxing long weekend!  The trip back to Michigan wasn't too painful, and I even scored a bonus day free from work, so I got to try for a muskie one more time.

Thanksgiving Day itself was very pleasant.  During the meal, we discussed (among other things) boat names.  I've collected quite a few possibilities for my future boats, but when pressed for the likely name of my next saltwater boat, I proposed Mooncusser.  This meets all my requirements for a proper boat name; it's unique, thought provoking and simply sounds just a little bit naughty.

A "mooncusser" is a land-based pirate.  You have to admire that!  Their efforts were likely thwarted by moonlight, hence the name.  They depended on luring ships within range by establishing false lighthouses.  I suppose in the deepest gloom, enough captains made enough mistakes to make this a viable method for making a living.

The next day, we were walking the beach at Chatham.  I was pleasantly surprised to note the following:

Municipal Mooncussing; the lighthouse at Chatham, Massachusetts is short and quite a ways inland; a perfect recipe for land-based piracy, especially when combined with shoal water and a shifting inlet.

This shack along the beach caught our attention. It referenced an "Occupation" for some cause, and perhaps has served as a legitimate shelter.

To my delight, I found this inside the shack. 

I can't guarantee she'll be Mooncusser, but the odds certainly have improved!

The trip also included my rediscovery of what was once family property:

This property was once in my grandparents' possession.  I have faint memories of the porch, the hill on the side and the interior lay-out.  I have no recollection of it being so close to the ocean!  But I was only 5 or 6 when the house was sold, and that was before I'd found fishing.

We also poked around the Brewster/Orleans area and found Nickerson State Park.  It was beautifully quiet in the off-season and attractive to the sweet-water fisherman in me.  I am sure we will return again, some day.

Flax Pond in Nickerson State Park, Brewster, Massachusetts.  Some trout were rising; I had no gear.  I met a couple of fishermen on their way out, and it looked like Berkley PowerBait on the bottom was their plan.

Captiva 2016

I recently had the pleasure to share a week in Captiva, Florida with my girls and three other families.  It was a planned break from our Michigan Winter in celebration of our pending high school graduates.  The parents had met about a year ago to pick an appropriate location for this trip, and I'd have to say, we decided well.

The kids were safe, the pace was relaxed, and the accommodations were a known commodity.  Of course, I wanted to fish, and fish I did!  The fishing details are available here, but in this post, I just want to acknowledge some of the better developments of the week.  These include:

***We picked a perfect week to be gone.  The weather in Michigan was miserable during our stay in the sunshine state.

This April Fool's snow storm in Michigan was no joke.  That's my buddy's Dog Day in the background.  He launched her for the season into the teeth of this storm.

***We enjoyed easy access to a beautiful beach and a fish-filled bay.  The days were sunny and the water was warm.  Regardless of weather (by which I mean wind intensity and direction), I could productively fish.  Meanwhile, the girls were happy with the condo's pool and beach, and we could all walk to wherever our interests were at the moment.  Captiva is pretty much the end of the road, so while it was busy and crowded, it wasn't overly so.

***I just love being outside, and there was always something to watch!  As a bonus, this was usually in comfort!  I experienced a full week of sunrises and sunsets.  On the water, I was always watching bait, rays, birds, dolphins, manatees, sharks or sea turtles.  The ocean's constant motion and the bay's diurnal replenishment provided unique tides, waves, currents and color lines.  On the beach, every low tide featured a deep trough right along shore, with currents passing by like a river.  Occasionally I could identify a rip or cut in there sandbar, and all of these features let me think about fish and fishing (almost) to my contentment.  

***I am often tempted to conclude that saltwater fishing is just plain superior to freshwater fishing.  After all, It's not too much to ask The Salt for 40 fish a day, or for a few drag- screaming runs.  The fish just pull harder in saltwater!  They don't even have to be that big to do so!  Plus, you never know what might swim by and take your bait or what you might witness while out there.

***I had the opportunity to fish hard with some fine new equipment.  I was especially impressed by the new Stradic FK 4000 reel and by various Gulp! baits.  Both Momoi Blue Diamond braid (30-pound) and Spiderwire Stealth braid (10-pound) handled conditions well, and the Tsunami Gotcha plugs became my new, go-to presentation.

***I had travelled to a new area in search of new species, and I executed well!   While I didn't catch anything monstrous, necessarily worth bragging about, or life-changing,  I did catch a couple of new, targeted game fish species (snook and sea trout), and my rod was bent and my drags were slipping all week!  

My first snook

Here's a nice keeper sea trout.  Most were 14 inches or so, this 19-incher got harvested for a group dinner.

***Moreover, I had prepared well.  I used just about everything I had brought, and I had to purchase very little on-site. Each trip prepares me for the next!  

***As a rare bonus, I did not have a knot fail all week.  I did experience one Spanish cutoff, and a surf snook (of course, the fish of the trip!) sliced an undersized leader with its operculum, but otherwise I made the most of my opportunities and suffered no lost gear or fish.


***I may have revised my ultimate plans for a saltwater boat.  I'd love to have a sea-worthy 23-foot center console, but after a couple of days of fishing from a comfy but cumbersome, gas-sucking pontoon, the simplicity and economy of the 18-foot skiff shined through.  There wasn't much to fail; and there wasn't much to pay for at the end of the day, either.

***I made some new friends, or at least positively reinforced my relationship with existing acquaintances.  I really like all the folks we went with, and I'm proud that my daughter has chosen to associate with such a nice group of kids.

***Physically, I felt better than I have in about 8 years.  I partially recognized this at the time, but it has been more obvious as familiar aches, pains and stiffness have crept back upon me since our return.  Warm, salt water might just be my fountain of youth.

***I am proud to be able to do this with and for my family, and I recognize that I am fortunate to have a job from which I can truly take time off.  I hadn't a single professional care while I was gone; I was able to be present and focus on the matters at hand, without distraction or guilt.

***I spent a fine day with A.  

***I am filled with love for my girls.  I am pleased to contribute to, and share their happiness.

***I really am better at dealing with things.  I've been practicing what I've been preaching, and I know that negative emotions and reactions, and not necessarily unexpected developments, are my bane.  I have harnessed much of their former power, and I can occasionally direct that energy towards a productive end.  It's made a difference for me.  I think this has made a difference for those around me, too.

Surf fishing for snook; a fine way to spend your time!

Warm Holidays and Happy New Year

A year ago at Christmas, as we celebrated a quiet day with my mother and kids, we decided to Go Big in 2015 and celebrate the holidays (as well as my mother's 80th birthday) with extended family and in a big way.  Those initial thoughts and conversations transformed themselves into a week in Florida with the kids, immediately followed by a 7-day Western Caribbean Cruise with my kids, mother, brother and his wife.  This accommodated everybody's needs, abilities and schedules, and represented a Grand Celebration of the Holidays and for my mother.  This also represented a Grand Departure from how we usually do things, but in the end it turned out to be a Grand Idea.  Simply put, I'm glad we made this happen for all involved.

This is "Why!" this all happened.

There's too much that I could say; and so I think I'll just make this a picture essay for the most part.

Cocoa Beach; we enjoyed a simple stay in a condo right on the beach, just north of the municipal pier.  I could stumble out of bed to go surf fishing and the weather and water were unseasonably warm.  Perhaps this wasn't the best for the fishing, but it sure was comfortable!  I also took a couple of fishing excursions to Jetty Park at the mouth of Port Canaveral, and I even walked through a Feral Cat Colony; although I do have to ask, are they feral cats if they are being tended to?  I swung and missed on my only strike on Christmas morning, but my catch of a Spanish Mackerel on the afternoon of Christmas Eve made me Canaveral's Hot Stick that day.  Yes, the fishing was that slow!

This Blue Crab was super aggressive!  I let him go; he just didn't want to leave!

Christmas Morning at Port Canaveral's Jetty Park.

Shore-Based Spanish Mackerel

Cozumel and Playa Del Carma, Mexico; after two Fun Days at Sea we arrived in Cozumel a bit late, but rushed through a fun day that included snorkeling with sea turtles (I'd seen a bunch in Port Canaveral) and snorkeling in the sacred Mayan waters of a cenote.

Close encounter with a sea turtle

Super-clear waters of Cenote Dos Ojos

Belize; after the development in Mexico, I was surprised at how poor Belize seemed to be.  But the land was beautiful, our guides were wonderfully friendly, and the day offered some culture and learning as well as an excellent local rice and beans dish.  In retrospect, I might have gotten more out of our visit to the Altun Ha Mayan Ruins site than from our eco-dash down the Wallace River to the sea.

Altun Ha Mayan Ruins

Separate plazas at Altun Ha

Selfie Opp!

Jungle Cruise, powered by 400 horses!

Big French Key, Roatan, Honduras; conditions were perfect for a quiet day on a secluded beach for all, but also with some barrier reef snorkeling for Kate and me.  While the predator fishes were apparently depleted by local fishing and poaching activities, the reef fish and reef itself appeared to be in good shape; there was a ton of variety in the hard and soft corals that I observed from 5 feet of water to the reef's edge into the blue abyss.  Meanwhile, A and M couldn't have been happier with their time on the beach.

Warm, bright skies and clear, blue waters of Mahogany Bay, Honduras

Blue Doctors around a coral head

Kate provided a colorful target to photograph.

The barrier reef was just offshore.

New Year's Eve; The New Year's Eve Party on board might have been the highlight for many on the ship.  It was a nice opportunity to see my entire family dressed up nicely, but the party didn't really get going until after 11:15 PM.  As we passed the western tip of Cuba, everybody on board collected in The One Spot for The Countdown.  My daughters had fun dancing in this safe environment, and the rest of us variously enjoyed People Watching as things got looser.  By this point of the trip, I might have preferred to be asleep, but how often does one get a chance to share something like this?  

I wish all who might see this a Happy New Year!

Bucket List Event - Part Two

I hit the road at 6:35 PM.  The day's work was done.  M had just crushed her last opportunity to join her last high school State Swim Team; and A seemed to be on the upswing from her fluey cold.  I was packed and ready to go; I even remembered to grab the EZ-Pass reader (so helpful throughout the Northeast), just in case it would work on the Toll Roads to the West; anything to make a drive through Chicago a little bit easier!

West Michigan smelled of woodsmoke the entire way to Indiana; I wondered about Particulate Monitors and Health Effects of Fine Particulate and how much of the benefits from my professional efforts were casually burned up with the leaves and scrub brush.  With 5-plus hours by myself and on a route I'd taken so frequently in what seems like a previous life, I couldn't help but notice how many former job sites I drove past; and revel in how fortunate I currently am.  But mostly, I thought of Brown Trout; their sizes, colorations, varieties of pursuit, Past and Present.

My opportunity to visit Milwaukee coincided with a televised National Debate; that helped explain my lack of choice of hotels.  Upon arrival, I noticed that there were cars from across the nation parked in the lot.  The neighborhood looked like it had seen grander days, but once I got past the lobby, the interior was clean and freshly decorated.  (I don't think I'd have been able to determine this if I were traveling with my girls, but it was going to be good enough for my current purposes, regardless.)  I wasn't there for long, and it offered a comfortable bed, hot water and free breakfast.

It was the day of the New Moon, and a horrendous front (with associated howling winds) was forecast for later in the day.  Captain H and I had decided to start early, at 7 AM in part to beat the weather, and as I approached McKinley Marina, the red morning sun hung low over a fairly calm Lake Michigan.  But the breeze was clearly freshening, and I was itching to get out!  I was there (per my comfort and custom) "Early for Being Early", but not outrageously so.  I poked around the park and generally prepared for my guide's arrival.   I remembered to take in Eminem's "One Shot"***, and visualized success.  And I had some time to do so.   Long story short; there were multiple texts, family illnesses, new logistics and traffic issues; but I still had a good attitude when we finally hit the water at 8 AM.

I've "followed" this guy in a thorough, but not stalking, fashion for quite a while.  I'd never fished here, on this boat, or with him, and yet we slipped into a quick, easy comfort that made the rest of the day enjoyable and realistically productive.  As we idled from the ramp through the marina, he outlined the day's plans and possibilities, and I could picture the spot to which we were headed.

We started with small brown trout egg sacs under small fixed floats.  The long spinning rods were outfitted with 6- or 8-pound braid and long 6-pound fluorocarbon leaders.  Our egg hooks were tiny and the drags were light; this was reportedly going to be finesse fishing.  But on the first cast, the float went down with authority, and I think anybody could have hooked up.  This initial fish fought hard and deep, and in the pretty darn clear water I had plenty of time to see my brown materialize and fight.  After a couple of minutes it was in the bag; and a successful trip was virtually assured.

Milwaukee Harbor; First Cast; and then we moved from the boat to the dock to capture this brown buck's photo in the early morning light.

This fish was neither a Personal Record nor even as big as I'd dreamt; but it was certainly a beautiful specimen caught on fine tackle and a very promising start for the day.  It broke the ice for us as partners, and established some real Fish Cred for each of us. It made the rest of the day easy!  

We stayed here in this spot a bit longer.  I caught another nice brown quickly, followed by a couple of tiny steelheads.  Then I hooked, turned and lost a broad-tailed fish of considerable size.  The commotion of that fish on the surface seemed to have scattered the school, and so then we changed tactics; it was time to cast crank baits!

Second fish from the first spot; and I missed another nice one.

His cranks of choice for casting were simply common bass and walleye baits.  I was equipped with a nice Abu 6-foot, 9-inch (or so) medium light spinner with a beautiful Abu Revo reel and 8- or 10-pound braid.  I could cast my Strike King square-billed crank quite a ways and easily feel it vibrate through the water on a slow to medium (but definitely trending towards slow) retrieve.  Meanwhile, he baitcasted a Strike King flat-sided shad, and collectively we covered water.

It was pretty low-tech fishing, but I'm pretty sure you could make it as complex as one wanted. We were looking to take advantage of some pretty obvious clues (jumping fish, bait balls, diving birds, busting fish or current lines), but in their absence, it took me a while to transition from my structure-fishing tendencies and rely on faith that wind-aided long casts and covering water would out-produce covering specific spots thoroughly.

This fishing proved rather slow; in fact we had no action at all as we moved deeper into the labyrinth of Milwaukee Harbor.  By now the wind was blowing 25+ miles per hour and it was rough and wet in the more exposed areas of the harbor.  We worked our way into another dead-end and parked the boat along a secluded section of seawall.  A few minutes of scouting from shore located a couple of pods of sizable browns that were very worthy of our  fishing efforts.  It was back to eggs and floats for these fish.

Brownie 3 of 4 for the day.  Grand Rapids has fine urban fishing; but so does Milwaukee!

Again, the first fish came rather quickly.  After that, they were not easy!  But by moving stealthily and giving them their time and space, by not attracting the attention of others, each pod in time seemed to cough up the occasional biter.  You never knew how big it might be either, because I saw more high-teen-and-up browns in a few hours than I have in the previous 30 years of living elsewhere within the Great Lakes' watershed.

The rest of the fishing day alternated between stalking these finesse fish and casting cranks for more active fish.  I got hit once on my crank but didn't connect, while Captain H caught a smallish brown and a late, red coho.

The fish of the day might have been our last brown on eggs.  It provided a cool visual strike that barely moved the float.  I can still see the gaping, white mouth appearing below the descending egg sac and then closing over it.  This might have been the biggest, too (but none of the fish were measured or weighed, so it's not certain that it was bigger than the first), and it certainly provided the most hotly contested fight of the day.    Captain H's enthusiasm was counter-balanced by my calm execution, but I sure was excited inside. 

A fish worth traveling for; repeatedly!

I'd chosen casting for browns over trolling and perhaps more opportunities for multiple species.  I'd gotten what I asked for, but that didn't stop me from asking, talking and learning about other options. Trolling is always possible here, and spoons, sticks and shads are all in the mix.  Divers and up to 3 colors of lead can provide some depth coverage, but otherwise it all sounded very familiar to me.  And where-as our realistic Brown Season in West Michigan's portion of Lake Michigan is (at most) two months long (and usually much more hit-and-miss than that statement suggests),  one can target browns here (by adjusting one's tactics) just about all year!

The Captain's favorite technique might be casting and slowly swimming 4- and 5-inch plastic swimbaits/jerkbaits on 3/8 ounce darter heads.  The same factors go into selecting the locations; breakwall gaps, current, bait, birds and obvious fish.

"Strolling" with jerk baits can help locate fish.  Should one choose, hair jigs or tubes, crawled along the bottom or suspended under floats can produce fish.  Carolina rigging spawn or minnows, or perhaps suspending crawlers, red worms or jig-n-wigs under floats will get bites.


I'd absorbed a lot in a short time.  Of course I'd have liked more and bigger fish, or perhaps to have not lost any opportunities, but in 6 short hours I was exposed to enough to know that I can do this.  I'd love to share it with some friends or family.

Boat or shore; hard water or soft; your choice; let's go!

***OK, so maybe the real title is "Lose Yourself"; it resonates as "One Shot" for me.

Bucket List Event - Part One

A recent harmless posting on Facebook about open dates from a guide I have followed via various social media outlets for quite a long time led to me sending him an email about his possible availability for Wednesday, November 11.  I get Veterans' Day off at work and I always try to get a good fishing session in, because my boating season could close with the next cold front that roars through.  When he hadn't responded after a couple of days, I figured he was already booked and started to make plans for another local muskie event.  I was therefore doubly surprised when I then received his reply on an otherwise forgettable Tuesday work morning indicating that he was available.  Three minutes later, I was booked! 

I was going to spend Veterans' Day in Milwaukee fishing for Brown Trout!  Milwaukee might currently be the epicenter of World Class Brown Trout opportunities right now.  This is truly a Bucket List Event for me.  I've been wanting to get there for this for more than several years, and this particular guide is why.

I've had a thing about brown trout for quite some time.  My first came from a forgotten tributary of New Hampshire's Saco River when I was 12 or so.  While my Dad stretched, smoked and gave his butt a break from our aluminum canoe seats, I ventured up the small stream with my ultralight spinner and a few worms.  I pitched my unweighted offering upstream into an undercut bank and the local boss came out to eat.  My first brownie wasn't that big (10 inches?), but it sure was beautiful.  At that time I'd caught my share of hatchery rainbows and brookies, but this might have been my first wild trout.  I wanted to show my Dad, but instead chose to release my catch.  So I went back fishless, but that was OK, because Dad soon caught a beautiful brookie, which he, too, chose to release.

Trout are a huge deal here in Michigan, and one of my first here was an early November Lake Michigan tank of a brown.  It slammed a blue and silver Little Cleo that I was casting off a local pier, and was my only strike of the day.  It was monstrous, easily over 20 pounds, and I was very tempted to keep this fish and get it mounted.  But I had virtually no money at the time, and I stupidly expected to easily catch more, similar fish in my future.  I like to tell myself that I was probably leaning towards releasing her when I accidentally dropped her back into the lake.  Oh well, it was an exhilarating experience, and surely there would be others!

Except there hasn't been another.  I briefly connected with a similar giant that skyrocketed out of the water as it ate my spoon off a very shallow rigger in about 10 feet of water.  My boat-mates and I saw her too clearly silhouetted before she threw the hook.  We were speechless, and even the brace of 9-pounders we landed that evening are not as memorable as the one we lost.

In the early 2000's I had a pretty good day trolling for browns on Lake Michigan on April 12.  I remember the date, because I shared my success with a buddy, who chose to try my stretch of shoreline and general tactics the next day.  It was a beautiful day, but I did not join him.  I'd caught mine, and April 13 is my daughter's birthday.  My buddy scored a 24-pounder that day; truly a memorable fish for all involved!

I have caught about a half dozen Browns in the low teens from Lake Michigan and the Grand River, and I saw a couple that were probably in the high teens while on a trip to Arkansas' White River.  These are all World Class fish, but they still are not in the same class as that first Lake Michigan Brown from so long ago.  

My personal Bucket List is ill formed, fuzzy and incomplete.  I'm not looking for a Personal Record, but I do hope to learn a lot on this trip (I will no doubt have the confidence to try this by myself or with buddies once I get my bearings.)  Mostly, I hope I don't learn that my list bucket is full of slop.

Little Rhody Road Trip

An arranged long weekend; my girls in Providence and Boston; and a full tank of gas; it was clearly time for a quick road trip to my home, Rhode Island.  I've barely been back for the last 20 years.  I spent a good chunk of my youth planning to escape; and now I can foresee a future where I end up back there (or closely nearby.)

We arrived in Providence at about 11:30 AM, having taken a final highway named for a Woonsocket-born actor of the 30s (really; is that all they could come up with?), but since M had plans until 6:30 or so, and K's train didn't come until that time, either, A and I had some time to poke around.  We could have chosen to go south to the beaches, or east to the Cape; but we'd had enough driving.  We chose to go a few miles north, to my home town, Cumberland.

The remembered route home, along the Blackstone River, was closed to traffic (since 2004?) and so we could not enjoy the winding trip past the old textile and nut and bolt mills.  I couldn't race over the railroad hummocks and throw our stomaches into our throats.  We were instead shunted into Central Falls.  The roads here are old; narrow and tortuously winding; many of the bridges and underpasses are single lanes.  Honk as you approach, cross your fingers, and go through if it appears to be clear.  It usually works, but when a truck, clearly too tall to go under a railroad bridge attempted to anyway, we had to back-track.  We went past Macumber Stadium, where I played American Legion Baseball.  The field looked the same, but a foul ball to either side would now deposit the ball on Prison Land (the barbed wire was impressive), and a homer to right would land on the roof of a closed mill.  Forget parking one to left or center; 360 feet down the line to left (I did hit the wall once for a triple), and well over 500 feet to dead center.

We did find a pleasant (new-to-me) access to the Blackstone River, so we took a short walk here.

We quickly found an unexpected campground in Central Falls!  It was pretty well deserted, this entry provided free samples of native poison ivy, and the Blackstone River smelled somewhat familiar; but what a beautiful day!

I've got The Granite of New Hampshire in my muscles and my brains, but I suspect that it's dissolved in Blackstone River water.

The Blackstone was running low and clear; clearer than I'd ever seen.

From here we went to see the old homestead; but first we stopped at what was once my maternal grandparents' home.  This neighborhood was remarkably familiar; many houses were still the same color they were in the 70s!  My grandparents are buried across the street, and we quickly found their tombstone.  I can't exactly say I paid my respects, but it is a good thing to at least know where these things are.

My maternal grandparents' house looks pretty much exactly the same as when they sold it in the early 1970s.  (It's white instead of gray.)  This is where I famously ate a whole chicken at the age of 3 or so, and learned how to ride my bike.  Since a baseball friend's family bought this house from my grandfather, I spent a lot of my time here in my early teens, too.

From here it was off to the house of my childhood.  We took the back way there, and we encountered a fair amount of "new" development.  My favorite house (the one with the porch roof built around a fully grown tree) was gone, but the nearby "Piggery" was still there, unlike The Pond.  Both were important portals to my fishing life.  Many bass (and some impressive 'gills) were caught from each.

They've added a wing to the house I grew up in and paved the driveway.  A little fancier paint job and extremely well-kept, but otherwise totally familiar.  My pond, fields and woods are mostly gone to development now, but it looks like a nice place to live.

At this point it was time to look for lunch; both A and I wanted an authentic R.I. grinder.  We took a tour through the various burrows of Cumberland and turned around at the high school.  We found a sub shop from my high school times and sat down for lunch.  It was about here when I realized that I didn't really want to encounter somebody I actually knew.  But the demographics of the place seem to have changed, and it was the middle of a work day; so I never actually realized this concern.

My parent's sporting goods store is apparently still owned by the original buyer.  He moved it kitty-corner across the parking lot.  The neighborhood had a new tattoo parlor, but was otherwise familiar.

The original Sportstown was across Mendon Road from a Rhode Island Icon; Del's Lemonade.  This was probably The Original Gatorade, and many Little Leaguers were motivated to great performance heights by the prospect of a post-game Del's.  These were sold in different sizes; the 5-center was small, the dimer was adequate, and the 25-center was a giant reward.  I'd usually pick up a pack of Topp's Baseball Cards, too; awesome gum and 10 cards or so for a dime.

There's no reason to suffer from scurvy in Rhode Island.

We had to stop!  We shared this drink.

We couldn't resist the commemorative cup.  I'm enjoying an 800-center!

On our way to the local State Park (Lincoln Woods), we stopped at Ann and Hope.  It's no longer open as a department store, but the building seemed to be in good repair (for a former mill of such age.)

The original department store?  Now it seems to host flea markets.

The Dividing Line on a foot-bridge over the Blackstone River.  Access to the river was much easier!

The inviting Blackstone.  But if you look carefully, there's a sheen and an absorbent boom by the factory downstream.  There's also a property of seemingly deserted semi-trailers to the right.  So things are better; but they could be better, yet.

As our designated meeting time approached, we wandered down to Providence.  This city seems to have cleaned up pretty well and was more vibrant and accessible than I remember.  Plus, there are now fish in Narragansett Bay, and there seems to be so much more to do!

Upper Narragansett Bay, from Providence's India Point.  The windmills are new-to-me!

The Providence Waterfront at the head of Narragansett Bay from India Point; this area now has easy access.  The Hurricane Barrier is kind of behind the bridge.  This area hosts seasonally excellent striper and blue-fishing.  The current was ripping, but there didn't seem to be much going on, here, fishing-wise.

There is some concern that the greeting "What Cheer, Netop?" will become common practice within the family.

Who can argue with a heritage that includes participation in "a lively experiment"?

I've always loved the understated beauty of the Rhode Island flag and motto.

Rhode Island's Capitol; The Minuteman (ready in a minute to defend his state and religious freedom) stands watch atop.

My maternal grandfather has his own government building in Providence.

Entrance to the Powers Building.

By 7 PM we were all together and in the truck, bound for our hotel in Middletown.  After a nice informal meal of local pizza, we were well poised to "do" Newport the next morning.  Katie and I made a quick trip to the Goat Island Causeway, where some folks were squidding.  But we were all tired, so we were soon in bed, awakening to our first (and only?) Rhode Island Dunk Do' of the trip.

It was a beautiful morning, and we spent the day wandering around Newport, doing the Cliff Walk, checking out beaches, shopping and eating.  

My girls, on the rocks.

A little time in downtown Newport made me all artistic-like, so I took this picture of the green bike against the green wall.  There's no other purpose to this pic other than I like the colors.

What's a trip to Rhode Island without going to Newport Creamery!  Drinking three "Awful Awfuls" used to get you a 4th one for free, but a single "Junior" is enough for me now.  Make mine Coffee, please!  And I love their trademarked slogan.  It is, after all, a drink.

The evening had been planned around the rising of the Super Full Moon.  We picked our spot and enjoyed each other's company as we waited, freshened by a comfortable sea breeze.

We set up for a view of the Super Full Moonrise.  We were positioned perfectly, but  a fog bank at sea muted our experience.

The moon got a little more impressive as it rose, but for A, it's all about the horizon.

The next morning it was another good Middletown meal; but then off to Boston to drop K off at her summer digs. I was pleased to see her accommodations seemed nicer than expected.  At 11:28 AM we said goodbye, got on I-90 West, and headed home.  With a pleasant stop near Buffalo for the night, and two easy border crossings, we were home by 2 PM the next day.  That gave us enough time to clean up, rest a bit, reflect on this weekend, and prepare for the week ahead!

Just a small example of the artwork that adorned the entirety of our most excellent hotel near Buffalo, NY.

All this was made somehow better and more enjoyable for all, because there were no fishing plans.  It was all relaxation, with no anticipation or trepidation.  Of course, how could I not day-dream of some Block Island squid-hounds, the local hot fluking, or a trip to the Cape Cod Canal, an iconic tackle store, or (dare I even say it)  for Cape Cod/Massachusetts Bay bluefin tuna?  I can go back for those when the timing is more appropriate.  I suspect there will be many more opportunities to do so.

***The trip was also made better by my new ability to text-message and share pictures with my brother.  He finally got a 21st Century phone!