After a three year hiatus from the outer extremities of Massachusetts's, my plane touched down tenderly at Logan International airport slightly ahead of schedule. Imagine that! Just a few minutes later I found myself nervously awaiting on my large backpack that happened to be meticulously packed with a weeks worth of provisions. After a few anxious minutes, I grabbed my pack and hopped aboard a small water taxi in search of the high speed ferry.
The sixty mile ride across Cape Cod Bay aboard The Provincetown III would prove itself to be more of a gay cruise than a means of transportation for the overwhelming majority of the people on the boat. Public displays of affection were indiscreet and in no short supply, not that I'm complaining. In fact, beyond seeing a whale breach, it was one of the more amusing happenings on the ninety minute ride.
The ferry gingerly pulled in to the Provincetown pier around 1:30 pm. A close friend of my parents was kind enough to volunteer to pick me up.
Thanks to brother Rick my entire tent was already set up. This was already looking to be a great vacation.
The next day was even better. The weather was perfect and we went down to Head of the Meadow beach for our first beach day. Had I known that this would be one of our only beach days, I would have stayed longer. In any case, it was great to see my brother Tim in the ocean for the first time in 17 years. He was the first one in the ocean and the last out, none of my nieces or nephews had the stamina to stay in longer.
After a couple of days of rain in the campground, our spirits were becoming slightly frazzled. Tim and I took the liberty to buy about five pounds of Mussels and two dozen clams. Since my stomach was slightly queasy from all the Miller Lite swilled the night before, Tim was on his own. About an hour later, an empty twelve pack of Budweiser and a full garbage can of what was just previously five pounds of mussels stood before Tim.
During the nights we managed to commandeer someone else's beach fire almost every night. Rick, Tim, Jim and I sat by the ocean drinking beer, smoking cigars and taking it all in.
The following day I bought some sand eels at the bait store and threw in a line to see what was biting. Apparently crabs have a fondness for sand eels because I was constantly re-baiting my hook. I also tried to do some snorkeling and ended up entangled in some guys fishing line. I didn't see a damn thing. I'm convinced Cape Cod is now devoid of sea life (except crabs).
The following day Kevin dropped me off in P-town and I hopped on board the ferry back to Boston. On the way back I noticed many of the same people from the ride over. However, instead of a loud festive atmosphere, most people were passed out, sprawled across seats or drinking bottled water. I laughed to myself. "It must be hard being gay".
Oh and on a final note, while sitting in the Boston airport waiting for my plane to come in from Washington I heard someone say "Thanks John", I looked up and who else would it have been? None other than John Kerry!