Logbook: Core Memories

When I first learned I was going to be a father, I made a mental list of firsts that I was looking forward to: First time fishing together, first boat trip and first time visiting Block Island—a place that is home to many of my treasured memories. I was able to cross that last one off my list this past summer.

I had such high hopes and expectations for the trip, I was planning it for weeks—if not years. I even sketched my ambitious plans on how to most efficiently maximize our island time. My notes involved a rental car, lighthouse tours, meals out, shopping, a zoo, hikes and other sundry outings.

After tying up at the New Harbor Boat Basin, Connor found solitude in the forward berth where he watched cartoons. Surely his indoctrination could wait 20 minutes while Karen picked up a couple frozen cocktails from The Oar. Our ambitions for the day cooled off faster than you can say, “I’ll have a second mudslide please.”

But no matter, we have four more long days here, I thought. Our second day brought cold, cloudy weather and drizzle that further dampened our desire to tick off the many touristy items from my list. The highlight was meeting up with my parents who also joined by boat for a nice dinner. Coincidentally my colleague and friend Bill Sisson was hosting a book reading for Seasons of the Striper right next door. His reading was a fun way to end the evening, even if it wasn’t on my list.

About the time I was really raring to get up early and knock out my must-visit list it was Wednesday morning and the forecast shifted on us. Our original departure date needed to move up a day to avoid a blow-out. It felt as if our trip was nearing an end before it even got started.

After a leisurely pancake breakfast, which is becoming one of my favorite boat traditions, I grabbed some tokens and took Connor up to the New Harbor bathrooms for a “quick” shower. Now, I was really kidding myself. He chatted and babbled away as I did my best to shield him from rampant old-man nudity. Getting a toddler clean in a three-by-three shower stall was not as relaxing as it sounds. Around this time Karen took our dog Salty for a run around the island so Connor and I made our way to the rocky beach right behind the marina. I sat on a waterlogged piling and watched as he happily threw shell after shell into the water and made all kinds of sound effects. I wondered what was going on in his imaginary world. I took a 4-minute video of him playing with those shells and just being silly, knowing I would want to revisit the memory in the years to come.

I threw some shells with Connor for a bit and also threw away my to-do list. Making happy memories was always the main goal. In the afternoon, the clouds cleared and we finally felt the warm sun on our skin. We took the dinghy over to a sandy beach. Karen got to relax a bit and have a drink with my mom while Connor tried his best to tire out his grandpa while making sandcastle birthday cakes and running around with me as we pretended to fight off invading pirates.

Much too soon our trip had ended, and we were back home. I laughed when I saw my original list of Block Island to dos on my kitchen table. We did almost none of it, yet I still felt like I just got back from a Transatlantic crossing. I had been thinking a lot about how much I wanted Karen and Connor to have great early memories of cruising together. I wondered if the trip had left any impression on Connor at all as he was still a few weeks shy of his third birthday.

I got my answer later that evening. Connor, with ever the wild imagination, laid a blanket on the floor of our living room and said, “This is my dinghy, and we’re leaving the dinghy dock to go to the beach and make sandcastles, come on, Momma.”

Karen and I looked at each other and smiled. Mission accomplished.

This article originally appeared in the December 2023 issue of Power & Motoryacht magazine.

View the original article to see embedded media.

Source: https://www.powerandmotoryacht.com/column/logbook-core-memories