The Vanishing Point: Partridge Island Excursion on a Perfect Sunday

So many people plan and talk about hiking to Partridge Island some day but most never get around to it. Joe and I finally made the trek on the first warm Sunday in several weeks.

In spite of several posted warnings, we decided to just give it a whirl and see how far we could get. If the conditions were too treacherous, we could stop and turn back at any time.

A week previously, I'd tried and failed to find access to the breakwater. From what I could see in the distance, waves were crashing against it and erupting through the rocks in the center. You would definitely want to tackle the trip at low tide.

What I hadn't realized then was that the water had been stirred up by the approach of Fiona, the "tropical" storm that brought summer to a grinding halt. Not that you shouldn't be aware of conditions before venturing out.

Low tide was early in the morning so that's when I headed out to find Joe's new house.

There it is! The real house is much bigger.

Strong cups of gourmet coffee and we were ready to go.

I followed Joe due south to the shoreline and we made our way from there.

There it is. 1 km of giant boulders. From a distance, it might look like a road but these are the conditions. We took our time and planned every step. Once you get moving and gather some momentum, there is an urge to just skip along but don't. You can break a leg or get smashed up pretty bad. There are crevices between those rocks just wide enough for one leg to fall down thigh high. This breakwater is a leg breaker, knee breaker and spine breaker.

A cruise ship disappears into the fog.

We had a couple of break times. There was no hurry. The bay was so calm.

So far, so good. We made it to the island. Joe banged up his leg on a misstep enough to draw some blood but he carried on like a trooper.

Now all we had to do was scale that wall.

You'd better believe I was hanging on to that rope for dear life.

No problem getting through the fence.

My first sight of the lighthouse.

Holy smokes! We're on Partridge Island!

Applying first aid.

I wasn't as bold as Joe about entering some of the dirty ruined buildings. They were certainly interesting but nasty places. I found them scary. The video below is of our building and tunnel tour.

Graffiti is a big thing on the island. People want to leave their mark to prove they were there, I guess.

The tide had risen by the time we turned back but look how calm that water was.

On our way back, we were surprised to see a couple following behind over the breakwater boulders. We hadn't seen or heard a soul the entire time on the island and they must have been there at least some of the time because they hadn't been below the rock wall when we'd climbed down. They didn't return our wave, just disappeared behind some rocks and were never seen again. Maybe they'd been steathily stalking us the whole time. Or just Partridge Island ghosts trying to escape the boredom of the grave.

Safe landing. We made it back, mostly unharmed.

A young Ukranian family of three were curious about the island. The father, in his best English, asked if it was possible to get to the island. We assured him it was but when they started off, I realized the son wasn't very tall for climbing those rocks and they weren't carrying any water. Fortunately, we saw them turning back. More than a week later, I bumped into them

outside of Walmart. They had returned another day better prepared and finished the trip.

Joe provided homemade beef stew! Such a great Maritime dish!

Finally friends came over to Joe's for a fun jam in the basement.

I never expected to hear Liam Lynch's "United States of Whatever" accompanied by a flutist. Gloria just jumped and it really worked. Listen on the video above.

Gloria and I were in grade 8 together and it wasn't until she reminded me of that fact that it struck me. This was the first time in many years that I wasn't necessarily the oldest person in the room by a decade or more. I've become accustomed to telling stories to younger people, assuming they don't have the same frame of reference as I do.