On our last day in Boston we took a ride on I-95 to highway 128 to Gloucester, MA. It is a charming town skirting the ocean shoreline. Bakeries, pizza shops and the every present Dunkin Donuts were easily found along the city streets.
We stopped by the well-known Fisherman’s Monument to sailors lost at sea. One of the plaques recognized over 5,000 people.
There was a man in his sixties and two women placing decorations on the memorial. He asked if I would take their photo. I asked if they had lost someone at sea. He said that his son Mark, age 30, was captain of a ship in Alaska that was lost while towing a vessel into shore. Mark was caught in a storm that came up from nowhere. His son was a good captain and loved living in Alaska. Mark had died in that storm two years ago on 10/11/2004. The father, mother and aunt live in the white mountains of New Hampshire and come to this place every year to remember Mark.
The man was so happy that someone was interested to talk about his son Mark. He said that two weeks before the accident happened, he had a feeling that he should take a visit to Alaska. He followed his instincts and had the most wonderful visit with his son. After the accident he went back up to Alaska and flew over the city of Seward and the ocean where they thought Mark had gone down. They never found a trace of him, his ship or the ship he was towing.
The man had returned to Alaska and was having a beer in a local bar. As the waitress was about his son’s age he asked if she happened to know him. Mark was such the life of the party and she knew him well.
There are such pretty views around Gloucester. The New England homes and changing leaves just add to the beauty. We drove around the coast with large mansion sized cottages lining the road. Both sides of the road offered sights; from interesting homes with wrap around porches to the ocean waves crashing against the rocks on the other side.
We stopped in the middle of town and took a walk down to the dock. They were building a ship by trimming out red oak planks two inches by eight inches thick for the hull of the ship.
The ride back to Boston was just delightful. The sun was out and the trees on either side of the road were sparkling with colors. Those deep red-oranges and bright reds will be missed.
Joyce