After James's screamy boat experience, we thought a car trip was in order, so we loaded up and headed to Pemaquid Point Lighthouse. The kids like rocks and I like fantasies about making clam chowder in a thick wool sweater while a storm rages outside my snug lighthouse keeper's cottage. It's a win win.
Look at these cuties in the bell house. They totally need to be wearing Fair Isle sweaters as they work on their school work at the worn kitchen table in my quaint kitchen (this will never happen THANKS FOR NOTHING GPS! YOU'LL NEVER HAVE THE CHARM OF A FOG HORN!).
One of the first things I noticed as we pulled into the parking lot was a large sign proclaiming the extreme danger from rogue waves, which have the potential to "sweep our guests into the ocean." And then later, a stern "LIVES HAVE BEEN LOST." The kids could not wait to lay their eyes on the giant man-eating waves. We made our way down the rocks.
I made a point to educate the children about these wonderful glacial striations, but they were distracted by the promise of huge waves capable of sweeping people into the sea. The rocks were fascinating.
And then, finally, we were there, the mouth of the beast! The waves were impressive, but I think if we could come back during a hurricane that would really knock our socks off. Or our bodies. Into the ocean.
We took some family pictures on top of some giant rocks that I told the kids not to climb. Lucky for all of us, the kids stopped listening to me days ago.
And then we took turns climbing the tower of the lighthouse. We took turns because there was a height requirement and Wes wasn't tall enough. We had to speak in code and hand motions to get Charlie and Ryan away from the group so they could go up. Fortunately Wes never figured it out and we all were treated to a gorgeous view of the water.
Charlie was a really good sport and still hasn't told Wes, which is why we were able to take this harmonious picture.
The next stop was lunch and then we went to a PIRATE FORT that was actually the site of some battles between fur traders, Indians, and those wiley Massachusetts Bay colonists, all of whom the boys call PIRATES!