Port Jefferson, Fall 2008

We sailed all day from Cold Spring Harbor to Port Jefferson and when we were getting in to port it was after dark. Very sketchy and scary trying to navigate into the harbor with the only lights being those from the street lamps on shore. This entry set the tone for the rest of our stay here, as this port was the least accomdating to sailors. We anchored just outside a mooring field in a little more than 10 feet of water.

The first photo features a sculpture in a park along the water that captures the town's shipbuilding history. Just beyond it, was the site where ships were hauled in on the old rails for repair. This and our search for a non-existent iceskating rink was pretty much the extent of our sightseeing, aside from observing the scenery at the local cafes and bars.


Expecting another tropical storm to blow up the coast, we talked about whether to inquire about the cost of a mooring ball amongst the countless empties we saw, and considered just picking one up and casually waiting to see if anyone noticed we didn't belong there. We decided to anchor instead and proceeded to get bullied by the dockmaster and other business owners for the next few days. I was easily threatened but my hubby can really hold his own, insisting that these waterways were not privately owned and we weren't budging until the coast guard confirmed otherwise. Funny thing, the coast guard was never called and the "harbor police" the dockmaster insisted would come out to fine us seemed to be figments of his imagination as there was never a police boat in sight.

We stayed anchored here for about 5 days, waiting out the icky fog and storm which left us with next to no power by the end of the week. There was a chill at night and we had to go without TV before bed for a little while. We made up for this by hanging out in town late night, window shopping on empty streets until we were exhausted or drinking beer until we were warmed and buzzed enough to just make it back to the boat and pass out.

We met some other cruisers who also decided to anchor outside the mooring field like we did to wait out the storm. A very nice couple with two dogs who tried to jump into our dinghy as we passed them on the water. They too, lamented about the unfriendliness towards sailboaters and Stephen and I cracked up like juveniles at the nice man's name, which was Dick Meter.

Cold Spring Harbor was pretty chill, with the minor inconvenience of having to get creative with finding places to tie up the dinghy that wasn't considered the fuel dock or a restricted fishing area. In Port Jeff, we were reminded that we were still in New York where the MO is downright territorial and everyone's an entrepeneur. Hey, fahghetabout it!


Our first trip ashore, we snuck in at night and tied the dinghy up to a commercial dock that was vacant until morning. We started scoping things out in this little town, finding all the good places to eat, shop and even karoake if we needed some cheap entertainment at the expense of the locals. When we came back in the daylight, we were tying up at this finger pier and a guy claiming to own the space said he'd let us park our dinghy all day for $5. How generous. Not too bad, I guess... considering the alternative, beaching it on shore.


We went into town come rain or shine, whether to hoof it a mile to do laundry and shopping or just to bum around, eating breakfast and playing gin. While a very casual place, this was still Long Island and many ladies came out with no jackets, dressed in leggings and heels regardless of the wind and rain. So when Stephen and I entered Billies in full foulie gear, we got a couple of snickers and someone asked us if we had been hunting all day. Billies was the bar where our good friends Brian and Eileen (now married) met for the first time, so it was our mission to make it here at least for a beer in their honor.



This town was actually pretty fun with an interesting mix yet contrast between the upper class with their huge motoryachts and yacht clubs/restaurants/piano bars and the working class that frequented places like "Billies" and "The Village" where I met two Bon Jovi look alikes (see above) who were singing "Living on a Prayer." For a second I thought I was in New Jersey. They were very friendly but made me feel quite old when they asked me what artists I would like them to sing and everything I named they had never heard of. But how could you know of Bon Jovi, who definitely peaked before they were born...and not know about Radiohead or the Red Hot Chili Peppers? "Who else do you know?" they asked. Grasping at straws, I was saying anything that came to mind to not feel ancient when I said the unthinkable..."Stone Temple Pilots?" What the "f!" Where in the hell did STP come from, when that band has never been in my play list? Now I was anything but cool. Stephen laughed at this entire conversation. "STP? Really?" he teased.


During our stay in Port Jefferson, Mom Toman picked us up for a day's visit in back home (Seaford) to visit with everyone and spare us the mile walk to the laundromat. We joined Greg, Michele and friends for dinner in Commack, who brought us back to Port Jeff for a night of pure fun and craziness.


This was to make up for a missed opportunity the night before, when after Greg and Michele had told Stephen over the phone they were going to turn in for the night, got a second wind and drove the whole way out to Port Jeff on a whim to meet us. Only, Stephen had turned off his phone for the night and didn't get their messages that they had changed their mind. Standing at the end of the dock, they could see our boat but couldn't get to us! They finally gave up on calling out to us.


We appreciated such dedication and were determined to show them a good time. After sipping down cosmos at the yacht club's piano bar, it was time to see how the other half lived. I was so excited for this opportunity to turn it up a notch and finally see what "The Village" and its karaoke scene was all about.

At "The Village," home of the Bon Jovi brothers, things quickly got out of hand when Greg accidentally dropped his first beer, and the bartender replaced it no sooner than he dropped it, but didn't seem too concerned about the pile of glass left on the floor. For fun, the boys decided to drop another beer, although this time on purpose to see what would happen and the bartender replaced yet another beer without question!

Now we were standing in an even bigger pile of glass. It didn't even phase us, as we had greater priorities, like singing and even dancing to karaoke....duos, trios, even accepting invitations to join the locals on the dance floor and on stage. Most of us were just shouting into the microphone, but others did a really good job, like Michele and her haunting solo of "Dust in the Wind." Stephen and I performed Bob Marley's "Dont Worry," our wedding song.

At the end of the night, Michele, Greg and Suzanne walked us back to the pier so we could drive our dinghy back home. It seemed like we still had some party left in us and it was sad to say goodbye, not knowing when we would see them again. As we pulled away in the dinghy, we broke the somber mood by singing "If You Like Pina Coladas" tunes at the top of our lungs.