Much of early October was spent anticipating, preparing for and enduring Nor'Easters. The first was a 3-day, windy rain event, but not much more. Perhaps that made us just a bit complacent when the second rolled in with winds between 70 to 100 mph, causing major power outages. Even with an automatic generator, 3 days of watching the needle drop on the propane supply did nothing to improve our moods. We encouraged both our scheduled weekend guests to cancel their reservations and also turned away a handful of people who lost their reservations due to power outages as well. As luck would have it, our only damage was a lawn chair that took the brunt of a falling branch that covered the length of the Cottage patio. The many small limbs pruned by the storms are easy enough to deal with, as well as all the leaves which got a rude shove from the winds before they were ready. And, now we end the month with another bout of rain and wind, which cancelled most of the ferries to the islands and only ripped a door off the garden shed. It's been an angry, wet month.
Thanks to some wonderful historians, and the local papers who publish their findings, I'm always getting surprises about the adopted area I now call home. Growing up in Virginia, no child left elementary school without an introduction to Captain John Smith, who commanded the first voyage to Jamestown, Virginia in 1607. What our history books neglected to mention was that he was feared by many of the natives because he was known to enter villages and put guns to the heads of chiefs demanding food and supplies. Enter the lovely Pocahontas, daughter of Chief Powhatan [and future Disney star], who saved him from execution by famously placing her head over his neck after her father had captured him. Smith went on to became one of the Jamestown Colony's leaders and was instrumental in exploring and mapping the Chesapeake Bay. After being injured in a gunpowder explosion, he returned to England for treatment, never to set foot in Virginia again. THE END. Well, at least in Virginia schools.
We now fast forward seven years to 1614. Cap'n Smith had become a strong advocate for English colonization of America and he was now well enough to make a second voyage, funded by a group of London merchants to explore the northeastern coast of America from Maine to as far south as what is known now as Cape Cod. To this date, his map and description of the area is the most accurate that has been produced. On board was a Patuxet tribesman named Squanto, who was best known as a friendly, English speaking liaison between the natives of Southern New England and the English explorers. Previously kidnapped by one of Captain Smith's associates named Thomas Hunt, he was brought to Spain and sold to local monks, but found his way to London where he was later able to join Smith's party to return to his home on Cape Cod Bay. Sadly, his whole tribe had been wiped out by then. While Captain Smith's choice of the name Cape James didn't make the cut, he was at least the first to call the region New England and to name the area where the Pilgrims later settled 'Plimouth'. Ironically, when the Mayflower voyage was being organized, the Pilgrim Separatists felt that despite Smith's credentials for the job, his personality was too dominant for their low-key approach, and he was passed over for Myles Standish, using the books and map they'd purchased from Smith. He later wrote that "the Pilgrim's pride and contempt of authority would not allow them to be guided by a commanding person." [With thanks to Ron Peterson and the Cape Codder Weekly.]
 |
| Sagamore Bridge over the Cape Cod Canal |
Cape Cod Chronicles #13 – October, 2010
 |
| Autumn paints Fort Hill |
Surprisingly, as much as I looked forward to fewer people in the Fall and a slower pace, there is a trade-off. Summer brings interesting guests, more income, and our musician friends play more gigs. But, I’m also looking forward to less traffic, my favorite cool seasons and time to work on creative projects I’ve set aside. Also, yet to be discovered is what our new B&B can look forward to for off-season business. After some research, I determined that though our booking agents did a great job for the summer, they were possibly a little out of touch with their suggested off-season rates. We decided to make them more competitive and within the week received the first booking we’d had since Labor Day. It felt great, and Martine and Serge, on a weekend getaway from Boston, vowed to be back again, despite the plumbing emergency that prevented them from staying in their chosen room the first night. We were challenged with an innkeeper’s nightmare of how to quell water flowing uncontrollably from the water heater in their room, and the terror that comes with knowing that their arrival was imminent. Luckily, our Studio was also available, though it was promised to our friends’ son and his girlfriend from Hawaii for the following evening. Martine and Serge were good sports about switching rooms for the night until the plumber could come the next morning. But first, we had to remove all the food and flowers that our friends had left in the Studio for their son, and switch the food I’d stocked in the Cottage for our guests. It’s one of those times you know will be fodder for humorous stories in the future, but at the time, makes you feel like an octopus with an abnormal supply of adrenaline.
Though Martine and Serge were unaware of the significance of the weekend they chose to come, they were excited to learn that they’d arrived on the eve of the annual Wellfleet Oysterfest. Wellfleet, the next town north of us is known far and wide for the quality of its oysters. The little town fills up with locals and visitors to celebrate and sample this natural resource. Local craftsmen display their wares under tents flapping in the stiff sea breezes, bands play, there are oyster shucking contests, cooking classes and of course, long lines to sample seafood of all kinds. Rickshaws peddled by strong, young thighs and school buses shuttle the crowds from point to point, but it was a perfect Fall day for strolling, too. For my money, I enjoyed seeing the 38 pound, 200 year old lobster, now stuffed and under plexiglass. At our kitchen window Sunday night, I noted the steady stream of Oysterfest-ers’ tail lights driving off-Cape in the pitch black, but no headlights approaching, another reminder of the shrinking winter population.
Before the end of the week we received another request for a room via airbnb.com, our newest online booking aid. Nola & Bill, an Australian couple on their 3rd week of travel, were making us their last stop after San Francisco, Washington D.C., Vermont, Maine and Boston, before a week in New York City and then home to Perth. Upon seeing the Cape for their first time, they decided to extend their 3-night reservation to 6. This involved returning their rental car to Boston after 3 days and taking a bus back, but Bill said the tree swing looked very inviting and they loved the prospect of having walking trails nearby and the availability of bikes, so we volunteered to pick them up in Hyannis from the bus station and help them get around as necessary. The first evening, we invited them to join us at a local Orleans Café called The Lost Dog, where Chandler’s Philharmonic Band was playing that night. Over Shrimp Scampi Pizza, Chandler won over 2 new fans. The following evening, we showed them our favorite store in Chatham and they treated us to dinner at the Squire, where we indulged in our favorite, Mussels Marinara. Perhaps there is a fine line between being an accommodating innkeeper and going on vacation with your guests, but they were such a fun couple, we made that exception. We’ve since received a booking for Thanksgiving from a CT family, and one for New Year’s from a couple from a tiny island in the West Indies. It’s good to be back on track.
Knowing that Fall colors might not be as prevalent near salt water, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the growing splashes of oranges, reds and golds along my drives. Cape Codders are serious gardeners and whether they are native, or cultivated, there are plenty of maples and other colorful varieties to provide a respectable and satisfying amount of leaf-peeping. I’m also very happy that little cans of pumpkin are reappearing on the grocery shelves after last years disastrous flooding of the crop. I’ve missed my pumpkin muffins all summer, but Autumn without pumpkin pie would be just too sad to consider.
Sometimes when our friend, Ray, pulls in his lobster pots, he's also caught stone crabs, which he can’t sell. We became the beneficiaries of some of his last catch recently and I learned the fine and tedious art of crab picking. I did get better enough after some practice to consider doing it again, but most of all, I learned to never again complain about the high cost of crabmeat.
Sometimes when our friend, Ray, pulls in his lobster pots, he's also caught stone crabs, which he can’t sell. We became the beneficiaries of some of his last catch recently and I learned the fine and tedious art of crab picking. I did get better enough after some practice to consider doing it again, but most of all, I learned to never again complain about the high cost of crabmeat.
On October 23rd we turned the furnace on to take the chill off the morning for the first time this season, but I quickly found out that there are just as many false starts here as there are in VA. I’ve learned to put summer clothing away in phases, so as not to be caught short for something to wear when the next warm spell hits. Blankets are pulled out of trunks and piled on the bed only to be stuffed away again. Freeze warnings yield to Spring-like conditions and the feeling of déjà vu.
The Critter Report has been on hold for most of the summer, as there seemed to be a respite from them. However, a very muscular stud of a squirrel discovered our feeders last week and when he invited a friend, it was time to put the traps back in action. I’ve yet to trap him, but I’ve now added 2 possums (Marty Marsupial, Jr. & Sr.), 6 furry, brown, nameless mice, and a couple of very indignant sparrows to the list. With the exception of the birds, who receive heartfelt apologies along with their freedom, the others are taken across the street to the edge of the salt marshes and given a stern warning.
On my last walk through Fort Hill, I was surprised to find that the fields of nose-high wildflowers had been given their annual Fall haircut. They’ve been replaced by the designs of the mowers on rolling, green hills, now devoid of their cover for the wildlife that call it their summer home. There are still plenty of woods for sheltering critters from the hawks and coyotes, and the hills are now ready for sleds and toboggans.
Post-Oysterfest, the local entertainment turns to more family oriented activities such as, haunted houses, rummage sales, pot luck dinners, wine and book club nights, art exhibitions, 5K races for charities, senior dance classes, and new plays to attend at the theatres. But, stay tuned for November’s annual Eastham Turnip Festival which in the past has included turnip bowling, Mr. Turnip Head contests and of course, turnip recipe cook-offs.
Our first Eastham Halloween came with the realization that there are no trick-or-treaters in the neighborhood, so it was a quiet night after a day of surprises. Our morning began with a rare trip across the bridge to Wareham to snap up a good deal on a bed liner for Ron’s truck. While we were so far from our end of the Cape, we decided to take advantage of the beautiful day and stop in the town of Sandwich, where we had scones and crumpets at Dunbar’s Tea House and then visited the Sandwich Glass Museum, where we saw a demonstration of glass blowing. Both are sites we can now recommend to our B&B guests from experience, rather than just a brochure. With that lovely day, the winds shifting back from the North and the return of the silk camisole under my sweater, our October came to a close.
No comments:
Post a Comment