NAKED NEPTUNE ON THE PATIO

The Epic February Break Extravaganza continues!

Today's adventure begins with my gal pal driving us the scenic route toward Newburyport.  My scenic way is through the city of Haverhill, and the towns of Groveland and Newbury, winding along following the Merrimack River until it spills into the Atlantic Ocean.  My friend prefers the Boxford-Rowley-Newbury leg of the triangle, which brings us to Plum Island.

I haven't been to Plum Island in a very long time, probably thirty-plus years, and it is surprisingly unchanged except for the addition of about a gazillion houses in the sand dunes.  I doubt there is room anywhere on Plum Island for one more inch of physical structure without taking over the nature reserve.  We find a small alcove of parking spaces halfway between the nature reserve (where I have always gone to the beach) and the public town beach (which I didn't even know existed).  We have to wait for a space (there are only about seven spaces here for non-residents), then head out to the beach.

The first thing I notice is how gritty the sand is, grainy and weathered.  It's also rather deep.  It has been so long since I have been to a beach requiring a trek so far over the sand from spot to shore that I am instantly glad I am wearing hiking boots to prevent spillover into my shoes.  We walk down to the waves, moving briskly when a few get too close, snap some pictures, then head back to the car where we are stopped by a girl wearing way too much hiking gear.  She looks like she is ready to climb Mount Washington rather than walk in the sand.

"Excuse me," she says, "but can you tell me where the Bay Circuit trail is?"  She goes on to explain that the trail connects with the airport, which is a considerable distance down the street, and that it winds through a business district.

My friend and I stare at the girl, glance at each other, stare at the girl some more, glance at each other, and shrug.  We passed the airport on our way.  It is surrounded on two sides by salt marsh, and the "business district" the girl is referring to cannot possibly be semi-abandoned wintertime Plum Island. She must mean Newburyport up the road a bit.  Not only that, but the if the girl is hiking along the road to the airport and through the center of the village, why does she need hiking poles, a full backpack, and toothy-soled boots?  We suggest that she walk the beach, instead, as it is a gorgeous day and the island beaches are right under her feet.  She shakes her head and tells us she is here to do the Bay Circuit Trail.  Unable to help direct the hiker, we part ways, wishing her well.

Back in the car, we head to the end of the island and to the public beach - the one I never knew existed - only getting stuck twice when we accidentally turn into unmarked no-outlet lanes, and getting an eye-full of statuesque, naked Neptune on someone's front patio.

The public beach has an area for the shuttle from Newburyport and it also has lots of parking spaces.  There's a boardwalk at this beach and strict signs to stay on the walkway or on the marked trails.  Clearly, few people adhere to this as there are rampant footprints all over the restricted and protected dunes.  We snap some photos but do not make the sandy trek to the shoreline.

This beach is more of an inlet.  It looks a little less wave-active than the beaches at the nature reserve, but it's an illusion.  This part of the island is dangerously close to the mouth of the Merrimack River just beyond the nearby breakwall.  The undertow at the river's spillage into the ocean is one of the most dangerous tidal areas on the New England coast and has claimed a few boats and several lives, including people sitting on or fishing from the breakwall. I have been in a decent-sized boat with seasoned crew and still had a harrowing trip out into the open water via the channel.  The inlet, though, protects this area more than its sister beach, Salisbury, across the way. 

Time to move on, so we head back to the car.  We have more on our dance card for today, but right now to get off the island we must head back in the direction from which we came.  As we drive down the narrow streets and off the island, we pass Hiker Girl, who is walking in the breakdown lane, sucking in carbon monoxide from passing vehicles.  We briefly consider offering her a ride, at least to the airport, but we decide against it.  She clearly has prepped for a three-day journey.  Besides, it might be embarrassing to pass by naked Neptune with a stranger in the car.