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| Cape Cod, October 2013 |
Right now, the tide was far out, leaving a wide beach of pale-yellow sand. Black rocks were scattered here and there, like sleeping seals, and white gulls hopped about the shallow pools in search of food. The wind swept through the abandoned lighthouse like ghosts playing among old bones, and she took a deep breath, right into the bottom of her lungs. As she exhaled she felt the tension slip away and her shoulders drop. The vision of endless sea and sky lifted the heaviness that weighed upon her chest, and she felt a wonderful sense of relief. She walked over the sand, not caring that her expensive boots were getting wet, and marched on towards the ocean. As she neared the water the roar of the sea grew louder. It was a pleasant sound, nothing like the roar of traffic and she inhaled the salty air hungrily. The wind whipped her hair and the damp curled it so that the ... tendrils bounced down her back and across her face. Without a moment's regret, she pulled her iPhone out of her jeans pocket and threw it as far out to sea as she could. It landed with a plop and disappeared.
The next day dawned sunny and bright. The rain and fog cleared out and we headed back out the point. What a difference a day makes.
Sun ... and parking fees. As non-profit employees, Christine and I suppose we shouldn't begrudge an institution charging their parking fees during the off-season. The museum entrance fee we expected, however, and don't have a problem paying. The museum was actually really pretty comprehensive, touching on the native peoples, the history of the area and the lighthouse, and the local industries. More about it can be found at their website here.
On the sea wall, there's a huge Lost at Sea Memorial. Create by sculptor Malcolm Frazier, the memorial is a cast bronze monument honoring commercial fishermen of eastern Long Island who have been lost at sea. The base is engraved with the names of people lost over the last 200 years or so; the last name from about 10 years ago, and only one woman's name. Sadly, the youngest person listed was only 14 -- a captain's son or a cabin boy.
We about got blown off the bluff by the winds, so we headed inside to prepare ourselves for the climb ahead.
That poor docent at the top of the tower. I suppose we can't have been the strangest set of people she saw -- even that hour. She did humor us in our photography efforts.
Thanks to Christine for letting me post these of her:
l-r: preparing to climb the stairs (check out the stained glass inset of the lighthouse, in the door to the lighthouse); at the top, shooting up into the belly of the lantern house; coming down from peering into the lantern house; waiting for me below while I peered out.
We also took the opportunity to do another drop for the Toy Society (#1099) on our way out of the park, since we saw a playground with picnic tables. I tied this one to the slide and hope that the kids I saw playing down at the other end of the lot discovered the bear before it blew away. Check out the Toy Society to see if it ever got discovered. (I should have taken a picture of Christine on the rocking horse!)
Vintage Postcard of the Montauk Yacht Club that was part of the display at the Montauk Point Lighthouse Museum and Gift Shop
Room with a View
Relaxing before Check-out
According to the brochure: "Duck buildings are highly sculptural forms which represent products or services available within, as opposed to the more common "decorated sheds" which are plain buildings whose functions are revealed by added signage. Designed to mesmerize passing motorist and entice them ultimately to a purchase, ducks are fantastical while retaining their purely practical intentions. The Big Duck has become the most famous example of roadside architecture."
We skipped a few other oddities on the roadtrip, including the Cement Sphinx, and took quite a few round abouts to make sure we saw The Big Duck. Having grown up near The Whale and a couple of Muffler Men, and now a native of a town with gigantic frogs perched on spools of thread, you have to embrace the folkiness. If you don't get off the interstates, you miss things like:
For some reason, neither Christine nor I thought to go to the Cafe to see what the menu was like for dinner. Nor did we stop by this establishment to see what the going weekend rates were for the off-season.
We were just a little scared by the gargoyles and the GIANT tiki.
We also were delighted by this vintage postcard that was on display at the Montauk Lighthouse (more on that later). For some reason you think that writing was so formal in the "olden days," but this could have been written just recently.
