We took our winter trip in the spring in order to attend
Jean’s granddaughter’s wedding. We are taking our summer trip in the fall,
because Gene’s son preferred that we visit in September this year. So it has
been a year of traveling on the shoulder of the season. We may decide we like
it that way; it should be easier to get spots in campgrounds.
The reproduction Viking ship, Draken, was scheduled to be in Norfolk on September 13-15, so we
decided to start our trip by seeing her. Then Hurricane Florence showed up. So
we had to postpone that plan. We seem to keep running into hurricanes.
A week later, things seem clear enough, so we were off
again. We stopped at our usual breakfast place, and had a nice meal. When we
came out after breakfast, the van wouldn’t start. It would crank but not start.
There was also a strong smell of fuel. Someone passing by said they saw diesel
on the ground. Jean called AAA but said the word “motorhome” and they refused to
send someone. So Gene called his FMCA roadside assistance number who were
helpful and professional. Except they called a tow company in Roanoke, fifty
miles away. It was a hot day, and when they didn’t show up very soon, Jean
called her brother and he came and picked her up. When they finally did show
up, five hours later, they had the wrong kind of truck (I always request a
flat-bed) so the driver had to disconnect the drive shaft after he picked up
the front end.
I suspected that the problem was that the fuel hose had
become disconnected from the filter, which had happened to us once before, in
New Mexico. I had called ahead to the truck repair place I regularly use so they
were ready for me when I finally got there, just before 6:00. Jean and her
brother came by and picked me up, along with some things we had to take out of
the rig, and we spent the night at home.
It turned out that my guess was right. The appropriate
hose clamp was gone. They had the rig ready by 11:00 the next morning. The bill
included $1.34 for a new hose clamp, and $200 labor (they also had to reattach
the drive shaft). Another day at home getting the van ready for the trip, and
we were ready to try again next day. Perhaps the third time would be the charm.
So off again the next morning. We aren’t superstitious,
but we stopped at a different place for breakfast. It was a good trip to
Williamsburg. We stopped briefly at the ships to find out how they did in the
storm, then on to the Watermen’s Museum in Yorktown, which was hosting a folk
festival. Some friends that live in the area joined us and we spent some time
at the festival, and a little more time having drinks and conversation in the
motorhome.
Next day, Sunday, there was on-and-off rain. After
breakfast, we walked down the Riverfront to the end. We went out on the pier,
where we spotted a pod of about ten dolphins swimming by. In the afternoon the
clogging group that had performed the previous day had another show. We knew
they were going to do some audience participation, so we wore our dancing
shoes. We found out just how out of practice we were when trying to clog (it
couldn’t have been because we had gotten older) but we made it through.
Monday, we drove across the river to check out some of
the housing there. We also had a talk with one of Gene’s son’s old high school
chums who gave us much useful information. After getting lost trying to find a
West Marine that Gene used to patronize, we finally found it and bought some
whipping twine. Then into the rain and traffic to Norfolk. Our plan was to
drive up the Eastern Shore, around New York, and on to Mystic, CT to meet
another old friend, who was there working on the restoration of Mayflower II in time for the 400th
anniversary of the founding of Plymouth.
The trip up the Eastern Shore was uneventful. Weather was
good, so we took the ferry to Cape May.
Thence up the full length of the Garden State Parkway
(not bad except around New York City), across the new Tappan Zee bridge, and
into Connecticut. Too much freeway driving, but we weren’t interested in much
of anything in between, so we just pressed on.
The exception was Branford, CT. Gene had lived there for
three years when working at Yale. He lived in an interesting area, right on the
Sound, called Summer Island. Jean wanted to see it, so we tried to see if we
could find it. Obviously, the area had changed a lot since 1963, and Gene
couldn’t remember the road in, except that one of the ways involved a railroad
bridge with a very low clearance. We found that, and had to detour around it,
which took us into unfamiliar territory. After driving around for a while, the
geography began to look more familiar, though most of the old landmarks were
long gone. Eventually, he got on familiar ground and managed to find Summer
Island (it is only an island during very high tides). Some of the houses had
been replaced, and some expanded, but it was pretty much the way he remembered
it. Jean thought it was beautiful and interesting, and even made note of a house
that was for sale.
We pressed on for
Mystic, and the third night after leaving Yorktown, we were set up in a nice
campground in Old Mystic. Next morning (by now it was Thursday) we slept in and
took a leisurely drive into Mystic. Downtown was tight and crowded, standard
for New England. We managed to find a parking lot, run by the art museum.
Walked around a little, and had lunch at Mystic Pizza, which Amanda insisted on
before we left. We waited until the work day was almost over to contact Gene’s
friend, Whitt. He guided us to a parking place near where the work was being
done at one end of the Seaport Museum. We got a guided tour of the ship at this
stage of the restoration.
The ship is larger than the Susan Constant, and when out of the water looks huge.
At this stage, her bottom is replanked up to the
waterline.
Those planks are straight-grain, knot-free white oak, 40
feet long and three inches thick (the garboard is four inches). They were each
steamed, then carried to the ship and forced into place, and finally attached
with very large, galvanized spikes, countersunk and pegged. The Mayflower project managed to get two
containers of perfect lumber from the Danish Royal Forest. These are trees
grown in ideal conditions for the Danish navy, and very few other places have
access to them.
We climbed three or four flights of stairs to get to the
main deck. There we saw more large pieces of perfect wood (of different kinds
and from different places) being worked to replace whatever had gone bad in the
years since the voyage from England so many years ago.
Not that the whole ship is new. Whitt pointed out much of
the ship that still had its original parts. But there is a great deal to be
replaced before she is ready for the 2020 celebrations. Ships like this cost a
great deal to make in the first place. What people apparently don’t realize is
that it also costs a great deal to maintain them. That is where too many
historic reproductions run into trouble.
After the tour of the ship and the facilities, we went to
Whitt’s house and met his wife, Ann. We had some wine and talked a bit; then
went out to dinner to celebrate Gene’s birthday. All told, a very pleasant day.
From here on we are playing tourist (and adding two more states to our little
map). On to New England!
