I went off-Island a few days ago. In three weeks our ferry rates will go up by about a third, so it was a good time to go “Away” to stock up on necessities. After one hundred and thirty seven miles of driving and tending to a long list of items, most of the shopping was done. Home beckoned. I came down to Woods Hole about 2:15PM, could not get on the 2:30 ferry, but there was room on the 2:45 freight boat.
The day had been classic changeable New England weather. Rain had ended in the morning. Then fog suddenly came during the mid-morning. Then clearing started. By the time the ferry left the slip, a strong southwest wind was blowing.
The boat was full. At least half the vehicles were coming home from shopping trips. Back seats were piled high with boxes and bags. In the backs of tradesmen’s trucks were new tools. In the middle of the vehicle deck, on a big trailer, was someones “new” (used) sport boat. There was a landscaper’s van stuffed full of plants and trees.
The wind was strong.
Waves were active.
The sun was strong, too.
Red reflected from plant-filled van onto the ferry sidewall.
When two waves meet, water and spray shoot up, and around.
The southwest wind was driving the last of the clouds away.
The steel hull shoved its way through the water.
Wake patterns are mesmerizing.
Propeller-stirred water and forward motion equal wonderful waves.
The freight boat itself has some interesting shapes.
There’s home, in the distance.
We will land in about a half an hour.