When we finally wound out to the actual coast, we were shocked. There were waves.
Now, for all your east-coasters, don't get your panties ruffled. We had yet on this trip (with the brief exception of Maine) to see anything resembling a surfable wave compared to what we were used to in Cali. But here, as hurricane season approaches, the east coast was out to prove differently. We basically rounded a bend in the road at Narragansett and there were the waves.
Point Judith.
A bit further down the coast towards Point Judith, we found a spot called Bon Vue for windsurfing. There were some wave sailors there, and though the spot was too sketchy for me at my current level, Brant got out there and kite boarded. The whole area became his playground, with the waves rolling in, and the deck of the nearby restaurant was packed with people playing spectator to his back loops and floating airs. Folks flocked down to the little ocean stone beach to see what was happening when they saw the bright purple kite soaring from the highway. He was the bright spot in an otherwise grey day.
Carving with the kite.
We met a few others who had just gotten into kite boarding, and they told us of a cool spot that was mellow, and we agreed to check it out and maybe hook up over the next two days. Meanwhile they recommended a great nearby campground where we got a waterfront, pull-through site with full hook-ups for $16. We were living large.
That night, the grey day turned into the classic "dark and stormy night." And the next morning the storm raged on. Nevertheless, we got a call from Paul, one of the kiters we met the day before, at around 9am. He was calling from Bon Vue, had been sailing since shortly after dawn, and he wanted us to come down to meet another kiter that might be interested in carrying kites in his surf shop.
We cruised down to the beach, windshield wipers at full blast. We pulled on slickers and walked down to the beach, getting soaked. Paul was out ripping it up in the waves, and Bart, the kiter of mention, was pulling on his wetsuit as we walked up. All we kept thinking was: 'these are hard core windsurfers.'
Bart and his boat.
Bart was anxious to get on the water, but we talked for a bit until our faces were dripping with rain, and set up a date to kite at Ninigret the next morning at 10am. We wished him good luck on the waves, then headed out to check the surf at the Lighthouse a couple blocks away.
Flying off the backside.
After a taste of the wrapping Rhode Island surf, we drove out to Ninigret to check out the kiting situation. It was still raining. And there were still plenty of windsurfers gliding across the Salt Pond. We waited out the rain a bit, then hit the water. The wind was very up and down, and we ended up with four kites inflated on the beach, switching off as the wind dictated. But the spot was great...flat and safe and shallow nearly all the way across. We ran into a couple of kite kooks who were out to destroy the sport for the rest of us by having no regard for safety. If you are a kiter and see one of these type of guys, let them know it's not O.K. before they ruin it for all of the responsible kiters out there.
Our marina campground.
We spent the next day there as well, this time with Bart. The wind was great in the morning, and then took a nap into gentle breezes in the afternoon. We took Bart up on an offer of dinner on his boat at the marina, and he and his fiancé cheffed up some good Italian eats. Meanwhile, the rain and the grey kept it up.
We left around noon on Tuesday, heading for the eventual Washington D.C. We've holed up in Stamford for a day and a half, hoping to get in touch with our old buddy, a Cali-turned-Connecticut surfer, Jeff Nagy. Jeff, if you're out there, call us! We're right around the corner!
