(pictures later)
We had a good night's rest. The sound of the Port Jefferson power plant droned on, but the Ferries shut down for the night, leaving the anchorage calm. The town does have its downside as well as its upside.
We take our time getting up, and just before a late breakfast, switch on the weather report which we believe we understand from yesterday. To our surprise, there is a small craft advisory, mostly for high winds which are expected early to mid afternoon as a strong front sweeps through. We thought it would be much less dramatic.
Moonshadow
swings by to say farewell. As we leave, we pass the power plant which now sports
a crudely made sign announcing its new ownership under this latest round of
utility deregulation. We wonder if this new model makes sense, but know that
our wondering makes little difference.
We debate
the merits of Branford vs. Milford; both nice small towns, both snug
harbors, neither a bad place to be stuck if the weather closes in. Neither of
these towns sports stacks. Someday, we'll do a detailed survey of the
utility stacks of the Sound. We've noticed that they come in different groupings
and color schemes It is possible that they are all unique. If we were told that
they were navigational aids (like lighthouses), we'd probably admire them, but
as it is, we class them as eyesores with an occasional useful trait.
We choose Milford as being both closer, and a place Marion wanted to go to, but missed, on the vacation cruise. It looks like we'll get to see Kirsten here as well, as Milford is practically spitting distance from her school.
We have enough breeze to sail for awhile, but it isn't exactly roaring. We wage war with what feels like hundreds of flies, all of which want to nibble at my ankles. Marion gets her Brewer's Flyswatter, and kills dozens. Still, it doesn't seem to make a dent.
We approach Milford, and it seems just a bit cooler and clearer after a few dark clouds pass us by. They are still calling for some nasty weather as the front passes, and the feel of the early fall afterwards. Now, of course, most of the talk of the bad weather is north of us. They have rolled back the timeframes a little. They still have a small craft advisory out, though. We'll see.
Milford is still as cute and compact as ever. The channel down to the Milford Boatworks where we've tied up is lined with boats at bow-and-stern moorings. We'll walk into town a little later. As I recall, the town is a delightful and typical Connecticut town, built along a long village green.