"Hmm, the Uncatena, oh boy. Why did I have to take this one?" He thought to himself as he drove up the transfer bridge at the Woods Hole terminal. She was a solid ferry, her two squat funnels beginning to belch out the telltale smoke that meant they were about to get underway. He got out of the jeep and walked up the flight of stairs that was in a central "house" on the freight deck; immediately he went for the stern. The large freight door at the stern was beginning to close. Almost without pause, he felt the deck begin to vibrate and below him, he saw the work of the propellers; kicking up a mass of foam and whirlpools, but just as soon as it had started, it stopped. Now the deck was beginning to vibrate as the ferry backed down out of the slip. Lucky for him, this crossing was straight through to Nantucket. He didn't like the bullcrap of Oak Bluffs, which was 45 minutes time.
Soon, Nobska Point came into view and ahead of them, lie the open sea. Today was a great day for a crossing, even though it was late December. His reveling was interrupted by the shouting of two children, a boy and a girl of about eleven years of age ran up next to him and sat down on the red plastic seats. "Gee mister, isn't kind of cold to be out here watchin' the birds?" The boy said to him. "No, I like watching boat wakes." Then, the boys eyes lit up "You're, you're General Creedon aren't you?" The man nodded yes. "Hold on, we'll be back!" the boy shouted. "Oh s**t, I thought this would be a quiet crossing." He thought to himself. Suddenly he heard "Pa, there he is!" The man who had a noticeable limp saluted. "It is an honor to be traveling with you general." He said. "Where were you injured?" Creedon asked in reply. "'twas the Battle of Deadhorse Valley. We put up one hell of a fight. I must say, your strategy worked." The man, after talking to Creedon for a few minutes went back inside.
Two hours had passed and he began to wonder how the house would look when he returned. On the horizon, was the unmistakable black standpipe of the Wannacomet Water Company, the two microwave towers, were in sight as well. Creedon, never one to miss an opportunity to carry his field glasses looked through them at the north shore of the island. "Hmm, looks like someone's going to build a new 'palace' on the north shore, oh boy. It's probably a New Haven family. They won't screw us up like they did to Block Island." After passing the Cross Rip Lightship, the west jetty was in view. The rocks were covered in seals. He could also see some scallop boats just off the east jetty. Now, the vessel began to enter the shallows and the wake, which ahd been relatively low to the water heaved into tall, large swells with massive breakers; "Low tide." he thought. As they steamed down the channel towards Brant Point, they slowed down. The captain came on the loudspeaker instructing everyone who drove aboard to go down to their vehicles. He stayed behind.
Soon, they moving at a crawl and had swung around to begin the backing process. He went down to the freight deck and got in the jeep. Bump! the ferry hit the two pilings at the transfer bridge, and was soon locked into place by the ramp cables. He was here. Next he heard one of his favorite sounds: the sound of cars starting up on the freight deck. The crew motioned for him to go and he did. He drove down the ramp and onto the wharf. His next stop was home by way of Susan Goldsmith's house. He drove over to her place. He had a belated Christmas gift to give to her, what it was, I cannot disclose. He pulled up New Mill Street, and got out. She was there waiting for him...
19 Oct 2010, 12:42 pm
