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Chasing the Atlas Comet and Heading Back to America

 

The last few days we were at the cottage on Martha’s Vineyard were sunny and clear, so we headed to Aquinnah one evening and Menemsha another evening to see the sunset, then stayed till it got dark looking for that Atlas comet. It was a no show, or else we were looking in the wrong place or at the wrong time. Ah well, the sunsets were nice and so were the stars. We went down to Lucy Vincent Beach to admire the beautiful full moon, too. So we didn't even mind so much that we never saw the comet.

The very last full day we were there, we spent the morning packing and cleaning and so forth, but then headed to the beach at Katama—a kind of wild part of the island on the far east side that connects to Chappaquiddick (usually) with a thin strand of beach. The Atlantic was wild, the beach was windy, and we had a nice walk down the sand (though not all the way to Chappy). Then we wandered up to nearby Edgartown and walked around the quaint streets there for a bit. We saw the Whaling Church, which I had not seen before. It was built in 1843 by retired whaling ship captains, supposedly from wood from their own boats, who were grateful they had been able to return to their Island homes. Mike’s four times great grandfather, Franklin Hammett, was a whaler. He left the island when he was 15 and sailed halfway around the world, making ports of call in Chile and Hawaii in pursuit of whale oil. He didn’t come home for five years, and in later life he wrote a long letter to the New Bedford newspaper about his whaling adventures—and we still have a copy of the letter among all the family papers.

The Whaling Church in Edgartown

Saturday morning, October 19, we finished packing and headed to the ferry for the trip back to America, and on to Minnesota to pick up our camping trailer. But first we stopped in West Springfield, Massachusetts, where we met up with two of Mike’s cousins and their spouses and went out to dinner. The next morning we met for breakfast and then we all went to the New England Air Museum at Bradley Field, in Windsor Locks, Connecticut. The Cousin Fest was a great time, and the airplanes, both civilian and military, were fascinating to see. I even got to climb in the cockpit of a Huey helicopter.

Mike and his cousins at the New England Air Museum

Windsor Locks is most famous for being the home of Mike’s grandfather, known as Cyrus the Great. We drove by the house he and his wife Mary lived in (and raised five kids in) at 66 North Main Street. The house was looking good.

66 N. Main, Windsor Locks, Connecticut

 On Sunday afternoon we were back on the road, and our next stop is Backus, Minnesota, at the Scamp trailer factory. (Okay, in reality we are stopping a few times on the way, and in fact I am writing this from a semi-abandoned Holidome hotel which is giving me a great idea for a Haunted Holidome. More on that next time!)

One last thing to mention before I sign off: they aren’t kidding about the fall colors in New England being something else entirely. The reds, golds, oranges, maroons, and even the browns and greens through Connecticut and Massachusetts, and even upstate New York, were about the most amazing I’ve ever seen! The photo does not do them justice . . .



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