Whether by chance or by accident, our most memorable family vacations have been those weeks spent in Wellfleet, Cape Cod, and August of 1991 was no exception. You may recall my story of Wellfleet 2006 and my broken ankle from my last blog. Well, it’s been 29 years since that equally interesting summer vacation in Wellfleet - August 19, 1991 - the day Hurricane Bob struck New England including Cape Cod, and I remember it like it was yesterday.
We had arrived on Saturday, August 17th, at our usual cozy 2-bed summer bay cottage - the four of us - David, me, 8-year-old Kristin and 4-year-old Jennifer. Amanda was there, too, a bun in my oven, due to arrive in late October. We unpacked, settled in as usual and headed across the street to the beach for a swim and to soak up some sun.
We had been listening to reports of the storm as it came up the coast, but for now it was far enough away, and we still had plenty of time to decide to go or stay. The water at Mayo Beach was unusually warm and choppy as the tide came in, and the feel was tropical. There was definitely something brewing in the air.
The next morning, August 18th, when it was apparent that Hurricane Bob was making a direct beeline for us, we decided to head to my sister’s place located further inland on the Cape and hunkered down for the night. After all, I was a 7-month pregnant balloon, we had the girls’ safety in mind, and didn’t want to take any chances.
We planned on coming back, come hell or high water, so we secured everything in the cottage, taking just an overnight bag. Bob arrived the next morning, August 19th, as a Category 2 hurricane and lasted most of the day. From the safety of my sister’s house far from shore, the weather didn’t really seem all that bad at the time - mostly a lot of wind, but little rain.
We didn’t want to overstay our welcome, so after the worst of the storm was over, we headed back to Wellfleet, and as we drove we quickly realized we made a wise decision to seek shelter, even though because the Mass. governor declared a state of emergency, we would have had to leave anyway. Trees were down, homes were damaged, poles were toppled, and power was out just about everywhere. Fortunately, our little cottage and most of the ones nearby faired pretty well, only losing a few shingles. The cottage across the street, however, that sits right at the water’s edge was not as lucky. The front portion of the roof that hung over the porch blew clear off, landing in the backyard of a neighboring house.
Just like my “Broken Ankle” story, we decided that a little thing like lack of electricity would not stand in the way of our enjoyment of a Cape Cod vacation. So, for better or worse, we stuck it out for the week at the cottage, only escaping for one night at a local motel to shower. Otherwise, we spent the rest of the week in the dark, eating by candlelight, cooking on the grill and sending the girls back and forth from the beach with buckets of water to flush the toilet. Kristin, being the older of the two, carried most of the burden, a task she endured like a real trooper. We’re not campers, but I can imagine this week at the Cape was is as close as we’ve come to it.
On the last full morning of our week, we came out to the beach and noticed people standing on the shore with fishing poles hoping to catch some of the hundreds of bluefish having a ferocious feast out there in the bay. Whether it was a consequence of the storm or some other environmental event, hundreds of bait fish lay dead on the beach, apparently chased into shore by the larger bluefish, a rare sight I have not seen again since.
By the next morning, all the dead fish had disappeared, like they were never there, completely polished off by hungry seagulls.
I’m getting too old for this kind of excitement. I am at this very moment in Wellfleet for another week of vacation fun. Except this year, because Rhode Island is on the Massachusetts naughty list for Covid-19, the trip began with a swab up the nose to learn if we tested negative for the virus, which is about as much excitement as I can tolerate.