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  • Carly and I put in a mooring in The Outer Pool today at low tide.

    I had 6 links of inch chain set in concrete in a cut-off 6-gallon gas can.

    We found the chain along the shore a few years ago in an old tin boat that washed up. I used an old gas can as a form. Tied some rebar onto the chain with wire so it wouldn't work loose. Used the last bags of mortar I had for the fireplace I got going out front.

    When we got down to the shore we checked the other moorings on the southern side of The Outer Pool.

    Saw how they lay.

    Kept an eye on the ledges. Allowed room for big boats to come into the float at high water. Checked for the channel where the barge comes through when someone brings on a load of lumber.

    Paced out the distance of the mooring line, the length of our rowing skiff, and some besides.

    On the mainland, placing a mooring involves the harbormaster, a waiting list, quotas for commercial and pleasure craft. All the ins and out of waterfront politics. It is a lot less formal out on the island.

    Still, I expected the village elders to show up with a round or three of advice

    "Maybe a dite this way Ben."
    "What do you think Bobbie?"
    "Jeez, I don't know as I'd put a mooring there Benjy."
    The age-old two-step between observation and judgement with nary a beat between.

    It was a Saturday in July. There should have been a crowd.

    Billie did have an eye on us from his deck chair working on his tan and another cold one.

    Otherwise it was just the two of us and the dog. Digging holes in the clam flats.

    We dug the hole. Set the mooring in. Tied on a line and one of my old buoys. Shifted the punt off whose ever mooring I had her on before and onto the new one. Good enough for this year. Packed up our stuff and headed on up the hill.

    I guess we done alright, I told Carly.
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