Mystic

Trip Start Aug 04, 2012
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Trip End Aug 26, 2012


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Where I stayed
Stonington Motel

Flag of United States  , Connecticut
Friday, August 24, 2012

A three hour ride took us to Mystic. A motel, Econolodge, described as not very good but affordable had raised its charges, so we went on. Found a place in Stonington that matched price and quality. Tanja's creditcard was not accepted, so we had to go find an ATM, to pay cash. This happened and we went back to Mystic. This little town holds a working museum, Mystic Seaport. In it a seaside village is rebuilt, depicting the situation as it could have been at the beginning of the 20th century. The wharf is used to restore old working vessels. Their biggest project at the moment is a whaling vessel. It is a wooden boat, in need of a lot of repairs. To facilitate these repairs you need to be able to bend wooden planks. This is done by heating the planks and beams first for a few hours in a box filled by steam. The wharf has a steambox that is the mother of them all. It hissed and steamed like a chinese dragon, and had pre-announced opening times. The other impressive tool they had was a contraption used for cutting planks. It was basically an enormous chainsaw, with a horizontal blade, run along a double rails. The saw cuts through a stationary trunk, cutting planks to an even thickness. The plank we saw being cut was about two inches thick. The trunk could have been 20 meters long.The one alarming feature was that it had to be operated by two people, each pushing at one end of the sawblade. The guy at the petrol-engine side was quite safe, but the other one had his knees at about one foot away from the uncovered chain. This is not a bad preparation for the paralympics, but neither a very safe situation. Pulling, or using ropes c.q. pushing rods would have been much safer. Luckely, we were not splattered with bone, blood or body parts. Had a lunch in the restaurant adjacent to the museum. We could have lunched under an awning enclosed by flyscreens, but chose to huddle together under a sunshade, outside. Food was OK, beer was good. The guard at the museum entrance allowed us in again, enabling us to see whether we could buy some mementoes. A book on Dories by John Gardner fell victim to our shopaholism. Hiccup. A visit to the Subway provided some food before we went to bed.
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