Goose Rocks Island

The salty spray of the ocean surf washed over the starboard side of our row boat. I rowed closer to the island, located within in eyesight of the mainland. Don sat in the stern and Jeremy in the bow. The air was cool and the sun was warm and brillant as it sparkled on the blue waters of the Atlantic. We neared closer to the island, the waves gently crashed onto the rocky edge. Suddenly a wave picked us up, as it were, and landed us right on a flat rock near the shoreline. We rocked the boat back and forth until we were able to slip back into the water. I continued to row us around the small island, looking for just the right place to dock the boat. I had rowed about 3/4 of the way around when out of the blue we spotted a narrow beach. Although perhaps "inlet" is a better word. On each side of this narrow passage were rock cliffs, perhaps about 2 stories high. We headed for this beach/inlet and pulled up the boat into that narrow channel. We all got out of our small vessel, feeling like we had just discovered a paradise-lost. This would become our new home for that glorious day!