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Looking at this set of fotos, words beginning with “w” came to mind. Like wind-swept, an apt way to describe this land’s end called Halibut Point in Rockport, here looking toward Maine. That’s “halibut” as in “haul about,” because as you sail round the point, you’ll encounter different winds. The rockpile is quarried chunks never loaded onto to ships, never built into construction sites.
Wind again comes to mind in this assemblage of traditional and new-fangled means of harnessing it. One is up, and two will follow. Schooners are Highlander Sea and Adventure.
Wavemaster is NOT the familiar name for the 47′ MLB like these, but it should be.
Wake . . . follows codzilla…
OK . . this one’s a stretch, but whenever I see a small RIB like this of the Massachusetts Environmental Police, I think sirens . . . not whistles, but then
there’s a Rupert, a 50′ RIB, and if the previous was whistles, then this is whistles and bells. If anyone’s thinking to give tugster a gift for Christmas, this is tops on my wishlist.
Viking Starliner wandered through the sixth boro the other day, possibly in for some work, but then it headed south . . . Florida-bound?
And finally this, a winter-cold sunrise, taken a week ago with a hint that December is not far off, a year winds down, waning hours of light.
And just apropos of absolutely nothing, had we had a few more hurricanes, we’d have gotten to hurricane William this year.