The salt, salt smell of the thick sea air / And the smooth round stones that the ebbtides wear - Geo
Cape Cod Vacation
Day Four
The next day, we did the one singular thing that I absolutely wanted to do on this trip - take a whale watch. When I was in third grade, I took a trip to Boston with my mom's school, where we went on a whale watch and saw a huge pod of dolphins jumping alongside the ship on the way back. That same year, we travelled to Homasassa Springs, Florida, where I saw wild manatees face to face with only a small layer of glass separating us. That year, I decided I was going to be a marine biologist in the summer and a famous writer in the winter. Considering that I now do science communication, I think I've gotten almost as close as I can to that dream, even if I would like to spend more time outside. Not bad for a third grade career option. On this trip, I did get to fulfill some of my love for large aquatic mammals, but I also learned that perhaps it's best that I didn't pursue the marine biology part.
My stomach had been bothering me some the entire trip. Because of this, I made sure to buy Drammamine at the little shop next to the whale watching office. Unfortunately, I don't know how much it helped. As soon as we got into deeper water, past the calm waters surrounding the Cape, I felt sick to my stomach. I never thought I was actually going to throw up, but would have gladly if I thought it would help. (It wouldn't, I'm sure.) It didn't help that we were on a rather small boat - better to see whales with - and had some fierce winds. I hoped that perhaps it was the moving forward that was doing me in - it had to improve once we stopped, right? No. No, it did not. When we finally stopped, the wind rocked the boat back and forth so fiercely that you would slide across the deck as it tipped without something to hold on to. Standing on the sides, where there was the best view, was impossible for me because they both kept rocking up and down like some horrible pirate carnival ride. Ugh. To stay in the middle of the boat, I planted myself on the bow, feet wide, leaning up against the top cabin. That way, I had the best views while minimizing the rocking as much as possible.
However, I had about as great of a time as possible, considering my physical state. Thankfully, the rest of the trip didn't disappoint. There were plenty of whales! And we actually saw much more than spouts and backs, as you often do. Several of them got quite close to the boat. Many of them fluked and some raised their flippers, pounding the water. We had several times when there was more than one whale near the boat, swimming around. When that happened, I ran as best as I could from side to side, just to catch a glimpse. My heart raced as I did it, and it wasn't from exercise. I just find them so fascinating and beautiful. I also had a pretty neat conversation about whale biology and what scientists know (not much) and don't know (a lot) with the on-board biologist. If I had to trade feeling sick for seeing whales, I'd still pick the whales.
Our shadows on the white of the waves.
Whale tail! So glorious.
Everyone's happy. My seasick grimace is hidden behind the camera.
After we got back on land and my stomach stopped spinning, we spent some time in Provincetown. I had been to Providencetown (P-town, as Melissa calls it), a few times as a kid, but don't remember it. The main thing I remember was my parents telling me not to stare if I saw two men or two ladies holding hands or kissing. Long before conversations about same-sex marriage, P-town was a safe harbor. As a result, it's an interesting mix of arty, yuppie, and "alternative" culture. It also has a heavy Portugese influence, as they were some of the first Europeans there. We went to lunch at a colonial-style restaurant, with lots of original wood ceiling supports. We walked around a little afterward, but not nearly enough to fulfill my desire to explore things comprehensively. The toy shop we visited was full of fun games, and we did have some malasadas (Portugese fried dough) from a nearby dessert shop. Greasy and sugary and delicious.
On the way back to the house, we passed by a winery that the Sheas had visited previously. Now, I don't know a lot about wine. I don't even like wine that much. But ever since we took a wine glass in France, my interest in it and respect for the tradition has grown. I still think bottles of wine for thousands of dollars are silly, but I like the regionalism of it, how each bottle of wine is different depending on the grapes, the soil, the climate, the precipitation that year. And even better, that people can actually taste those differences. It appeals to my local foodie side. So when Mama Shea asked if we wanted to do a wine tasting, Chris, Melissa and I all answered yes enthusiastically. The winery was small, but pretty, and I took lots of lovely flower and grape photos. Chris, Mama Shea, Melissa and I sat in a tent behind the main building, with the grape trellises all around it. Chris and I split a tasting so that we could try them all without drinking a lot of wine (I'm just a lightweight) and Melissa and Mama Shea each had a tasting. The wine was pretty good, and I think Mama Shea bought a bottle or two. Unfortunately, the wine you buy at wineries never tastes as good afterwards as it did during the tasting. I think it's like buying a CD at a concert and then realizing it was the concert you enjoyed more than the band.
We also stopped at one of the many town beaches along Cape Cod. We weren't alone, but there were only a few people there. It was far too cold to go in the water, but walking along the beach in bare feet was incredibly soothing. I was mesmorized watching the waves - just breaking and retreating, breaking and retreating. We wandered, walking for the sake of walking, feeling the wet and dry sand under our toes. It was quiet in a way that the city never is.
That night, we went to dinner at a nice seafood place. It was one of those places where they give you way too much food but it's so tasty that you keep eating it after you really should stop. I had a fantastic halibut, which I never get because it's so expensive. You have to fly it in from Alaska, which is where I had it originally, and it was the first time I had non-fried fish that I enjoyed.
Day Five
We had a relaxed morning, and then headed out to another beach. We originally planned on just walking around as we did the day before, but we had a couple of surprises. As we walked, we spotted a couple of seals, popping their heads out of the water randomly. Even from a distance, their cheery goofiness brought smiles to our faces. As I had just considered turning around, I saw Chris coming toward me, waving. I started walking towards him, confused. When I finally reached him, he said, "You have to come see this!" "What?" But he wouldn't tell me. So when we rounded the sand bar, my face burst into a smile. Seals. Probably over a hundred of them. Just hanging out on a sandbar a little further out than just, lounging, sleeping in piles, and playing. Wow. Unfortunately, my camera had burnt out by that point, and we hadn't brought the binoculars. Thankfully for us, a kind man next to us had binoculars and was willing to let us borrow them. They were high-powered too, so we could see the seals quite clearly, their little black heads popping in and out of the water. It was one of the most joyful things I had ever seen, and we just happened upon it. The other surprise was from Papa Shea. He found a huge chunk of....something. It was obviously a body part of an animal, although it wasn't bone. We figured out it was cartilege, obviously from a large creature. It was weird and freaky and probably the coolest thing I've ever seen on a beach. We ended up convincing him to leave it there though - it would just be a waste to bring it home. It belonged on the beach.
We went back to the house for lunch and took a nap, before Melissa drove back to Boston. She had to be to work the next day. After she left, we went back out, to another Shea haunt, the Mud Flats. Now, I'd imagine the Mud Flats are not very crowded, even at the height of tourist season. They are muddy and messy and lack any of the pretty white sand that attracts people to other beaches. They are the area where the area is so flat that when the tides wash in, they are extremely shallow and leave large tidal pools everywhere But I thought they were fantastic. I felt like a ten year old, exploring this alien landscape, looking for lifeforms. We picked our way across the brown muck, trying not to step in the deepest puddles but unavoidably getting incredibly dirty. Chris and I went around looking in pools for snails and lifting up rocks for hermit crabs. We found quite a few, and picked many of them up to look. We always made sure to put them back where they came from. Papa Shea was on his own apart from us, but having just as much of a good time. Mama Shea stayed around for a little while, but then retreated to the much warmer car. But I'm so glad that they brought us there. I look forward to bringing our kids to this place if it's still around then. I was surprised to find out it's only a town beach, not part of the National Seashore, so it's fate is rather uncertain.
Returning to the house, I remembered that I had brought the kite and we decided to head down to the beach within walking distance to fly it. It was only a short walk to a tiny public beach bordered on both sides by large private beaches. It was a very blustery day, so getting the kite up in the air was far easier than it was in Ocean City. Keeping it in the air was a different issue. We would get it up very, very high and then it would dive into the ground. It seemed so unpredictable and took a lot of strength to control. Papa Shea, Chris and I traded off the handle of the kite, as we all wanted to try it out. It was frustrating, but gloriously fun.
That night, Chris made the classic New England dish of stuffed lobster. He made his own coleslaw and stuffed it in the lobster, and also prepared fresh corn-on-the-cob. It was fresh, perfectly regional, and delicious.
Day Six
We had a lot of ideas for our final day, but could only fit a couple in. Besides the whale watch, the other thing I wanted to do in Cape Cod was go mini-golfing. I love the innocent cheesiness of mini-golfing, but land is worth too much around here to justify putting up mini-golf courses, so we can never go. We picked a place that we had a coupon for, but it was a little disappointing. The course was missing the best obstacles, like the windmills and giant bears in the one in Clifton Park. The holes were also really easy, which didn't stop us from being terrible, but they were almost a little too simple. Nonetheless, playing mini-golf was a lovely flashback to our summer days in Lake George.
Our last stop in Cape Cod was Chatham, one of Mama Shea's favorite places in the world. We ate lunch at the Imprudent Oyster, where Chris's family has lunched many, many times before. I had a crab quiche - just had to have that last bit of seafood. The place was very old-fashioned feeling; stained glass decorated the walls and the bar was huge and made of dark wood. It felt like old Cape Cod wealth, even though it wasn't that expensive. We explored a few of the shops in Chatham, which is the epitome of small, pretty Cape Cod tourist town, afterwards. A couple of quirky art/gift shops, in which I saw lots of pretty things I loved and none that I would buy. The Sheas then drove us to Providence, where we hopped on a plane back to Baltimore.
Overall, it was a short vacation, but very relaxing. I normally enjoy vacations that are really packed with doing things - that's how my family always did them. But now that I'm working full-time and doing volunteer work and everything else, I better understand why people like vacations at a slower pace. I would still be bored silly spending the whole week on a beach, but having some down time is nice. Plus, going with Chris's family was fun. We had gone to Disney with them, but we were largely on our own, much less togetherness than Cape Cod. I was glad we had the opportunity this time.
Day Four
The next day, we did the one singular thing that I absolutely wanted to do on this trip - take a whale watch. When I was in third grade, I took a trip to Boston with my mom's school, where we went on a whale watch and saw a huge pod of dolphins jumping alongside the ship on the way back. That same year, we travelled to Homasassa Springs, Florida, where I saw wild manatees face to face with only a small layer of glass separating us. That year, I decided I was going to be a marine biologist in the summer and a famous writer in the winter. Considering that I now do science communication, I think I've gotten almost as close as I can to that dream, even if I would like to spend more time outside. Not bad for a third grade career option. On this trip, I did get to fulfill some of my love for large aquatic mammals, but I also learned that perhaps it's best that I didn't pursue the marine biology part.
My stomach had been bothering me some the entire trip. Because of this, I made sure to buy Drammamine at the little shop next to the whale watching office. Unfortunately, I don't know how much it helped. As soon as we got into deeper water, past the calm waters surrounding the Cape, I felt sick to my stomach. I never thought I was actually going to throw up, but would have gladly if I thought it would help. (It wouldn't, I'm sure.) It didn't help that we were on a rather small boat - better to see whales with - and had some fierce winds. I hoped that perhaps it was the moving forward that was doing me in - it had to improve once we stopped, right? No. No, it did not. When we finally stopped, the wind rocked the boat back and forth so fiercely that you would slide across the deck as it tipped without something to hold on to. Standing on the sides, where there was the best view, was impossible for me because they both kept rocking up and down like some horrible pirate carnival ride. Ugh. To stay in the middle of the boat, I planted myself on the bow, feet wide, leaning up against the top cabin. That way, I had the best views while minimizing the rocking as much as possible.
However, I had about as great of a time as possible, considering my physical state. Thankfully, the rest of the trip didn't disappoint. There were plenty of whales! And we actually saw much more than spouts and backs, as you often do. Several of them got quite close to the boat. Many of them fluked and some raised their flippers, pounding the water. We had several times when there was more than one whale near the boat, swimming around. When that happened, I ran as best as I could from side to side, just to catch a glimpse. My heart raced as I did it, and it wasn't from exercise. I just find them so fascinating and beautiful. I also had a pretty neat conversation about whale biology and what scientists know (not much) and don't know (a lot) with the on-board biologist. If I had to trade feeling sick for seeing whales, I'd still pick the whales.
Our shadows on the white of the waves.
Whale tail! So glorious.
Everyone's happy. My seasick grimace is hidden behind the camera.
After we got back on land and my stomach stopped spinning, we spent some time in Provincetown. I had been to Providencetown (P-town, as Melissa calls it), a few times as a kid, but don't remember it. The main thing I remember was my parents telling me not to stare if I saw two men or two ladies holding hands or kissing. Long before conversations about same-sex marriage, P-town was a safe harbor. As a result, it's an interesting mix of arty, yuppie, and "alternative" culture. It also has a heavy Portugese influence, as they were some of the first Europeans there. We went to lunch at a colonial-style restaurant, with lots of original wood ceiling supports. We walked around a little afterward, but not nearly enough to fulfill my desire to explore things comprehensively. The toy shop we visited was full of fun games, and we did have some malasadas (Portugese fried dough) from a nearby dessert shop. Greasy and sugary and delicious.
On the way back to the house, we passed by a winery that the Sheas had visited previously. Now, I don't know a lot about wine. I don't even like wine that much. But ever since we took a wine glass in France, my interest in it and respect for the tradition has grown. I still think bottles of wine for thousands of dollars are silly, but I like the regionalism of it, how each bottle of wine is different depending on the grapes, the soil, the climate, the precipitation that year. And even better, that people can actually taste those differences. It appeals to my local foodie side. So when Mama Shea asked if we wanted to do a wine tasting, Chris, Melissa and I all answered yes enthusiastically. The winery was small, but pretty, and I took lots of lovely flower and grape photos. Chris, Mama Shea, Melissa and I sat in a tent behind the main building, with the grape trellises all around it. Chris and I split a tasting so that we could try them all without drinking a lot of wine (I'm just a lightweight) and Melissa and Mama Shea each had a tasting. The wine was pretty good, and I think Mama Shea bought a bottle or two. Unfortunately, the wine you buy at wineries never tastes as good afterwards as it did during the tasting. I think it's like buying a CD at a concert and then realizing it was the concert you enjoyed more than the band.
We also stopped at one of the many town beaches along Cape Cod. We weren't alone, but there were only a few people there. It was far too cold to go in the water, but walking along the beach in bare feet was incredibly soothing. I was mesmorized watching the waves - just breaking and retreating, breaking and retreating. We wandered, walking for the sake of walking, feeling the wet and dry sand under our toes. It was quiet in a way that the city never is.
That night, we went to dinner at a nice seafood place. It was one of those places where they give you way too much food but it's so tasty that you keep eating it after you really should stop. I had a fantastic halibut, which I never get because it's so expensive. You have to fly it in from Alaska, which is where I had it originally, and it was the first time I had non-fried fish that I enjoyed.
Day Five
We had a relaxed morning, and then headed out to another beach. We originally planned on just walking around as we did the day before, but we had a couple of surprises. As we walked, we spotted a couple of seals, popping their heads out of the water randomly. Even from a distance, their cheery goofiness brought smiles to our faces. As I had just considered turning around, I saw Chris coming toward me, waving. I started walking towards him, confused. When I finally reached him, he said, "You have to come see this!" "What?" But he wouldn't tell me. So when we rounded the sand bar, my face burst into a smile. Seals. Probably over a hundred of them. Just hanging out on a sandbar a little further out than just, lounging, sleeping in piles, and playing. Wow. Unfortunately, my camera had burnt out by that point, and we hadn't brought the binoculars. Thankfully for us, a kind man next to us had binoculars and was willing to let us borrow them. They were high-powered too, so we could see the seals quite clearly, their little black heads popping in and out of the water. It was one of the most joyful things I had ever seen, and we just happened upon it. The other surprise was from Papa Shea. He found a huge chunk of....something. It was obviously a body part of an animal, although it wasn't bone. We figured out it was cartilege, obviously from a large creature. It was weird and freaky and probably the coolest thing I've ever seen on a beach. We ended up convincing him to leave it there though - it would just be a waste to bring it home. It belonged on the beach.
We went back to the house for lunch and took a nap, before Melissa drove back to Boston. She had to be to work the next day. After she left, we went back out, to another Shea haunt, the Mud Flats. Now, I'd imagine the Mud Flats are not very crowded, even at the height of tourist season. They are muddy and messy and lack any of the pretty white sand that attracts people to other beaches. They are the area where the area is so flat that when the tides wash in, they are extremely shallow and leave large tidal pools everywhere But I thought they were fantastic. I felt like a ten year old, exploring this alien landscape, looking for lifeforms. We picked our way across the brown muck, trying not to step in the deepest puddles but unavoidably getting incredibly dirty. Chris and I went around looking in pools for snails and lifting up rocks for hermit crabs. We found quite a few, and picked many of them up to look. We always made sure to put them back where they came from. Papa Shea was on his own apart from us, but having just as much of a good time. Mama Shea stayed around for a little while, but then retreated to the much warmer car. But I'm so glad that they brought us there. I look forward to bringing our kids to this place if it's still around then. I was surprised to find out it's only a town beach, not part of the National Seashore, so it's fate is rather uncertain.
Returning to the house, I remembered that I had brought the kite and we decided to head down to the beach within walking distance to fly it. It was only a short walk to a tiny public beach bordered on both sides by large private beaches. It was a very blustery day, so getting the kite up in the air was far easier than it was in Ocean City. Keeping it in the air was a different issue. We would get it up very, very high and then it would dive into the ground. It seemed so unpredictable and took a lot of strength to control. Papa Shea, Chris and I traded off the handle of the kite, as we all wanted to try it out. It was frustrating, but gloriously fun.
That night, Chris made the classic New England dish of stuffed lobster. He made his own coleslaw and stuffed it in the lobster, and also prepared fresh corn-on-the-cob. It was fresh, perfectly regional, and delicious.
Day Six
We had a lot of ideas for our final day, but could only fit a couple in. Besides the whale watch, the other thing I wanted to do in Cape Cod was go mini-golfing. I love the innocent cheesiness of mini-golfing, but land is worth too much around here to justify putting up mini-golf courses, so we can never go. We picked a place that we had a coupon for, but it was a little disappointing. The course was missing the best obstacles, like the windmills and giant bears in the one in Clifton Park. The holes were also really easy, which didn't stop us from being terrible, but they were almost a little too simple. Nonetheless, playing mini-golf was a lovely flashback to our summer days in Lake George.
Our last stop in Cape Cod was Chatham, one of Mama Shea's favorite places in the world. We ate lunch at the Imprudent Oyster, where Chris's family has lunched many, many times before. I had a crab quiche - just had to have that last bit of seafood. The place was very old-fashioned feeling; stained glass decorated the walls and the bar was huge and made of dark wood. It felt like old Cape Cod wealth, even though it wasn't that expensive. We explored a few of the shops in Chatham, which is the epitome of small, pretty Cape Cod tourist town, afterwards. A couple of quirky art/gift shops, in which I saw lots of pretty things I loved and none that I would buy. The Sheas then drove us to Providence, where we hopped on a plane back to Baltimore.
Overall, it was a short vacation, but very relaxing. I normally enjoy vacations that are really packed with doing things - that's how my family always did them. But now that I'm working full-time and doing volunteer work and everything else, I better understand why people like vacations at a slower pace. I would still be bored silly spending the whole week on a beach, but having some down time is nice. Plus, going with Chris's family was fun. We had gone to Disney with them, but we were largely on our own, much less togetherness than Cape Cod. I was glad we had the opportunity this time.