Welcome Home: Part Three
By Dave and Jaja

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There was an unofficial anchorage, about a half mile from the dock where we could possibly fit in. I still lusted after a grocery store and a laundromat. Dave reasoned that instead of rowing back and forth we should take a mooring closer in. He read the names on several of the white balls and decided to call Beggars Wharf. "It sounds cheap," he concluded.

We soon found out that the Beggar in Beggars Wharf referred to the owner, not to his prospective patrons. As we walked toward his building I was not sure if it was falling down or being fixed up. The tiles on the outside were half on/off, and raw fiberglass insulation paneled the inside walls. The owner was a hopeful and effusively enthusiastic man.

"Hi!" he boomed, as he extended a friendly hand. "Where are you from? Here, take a seat!" He had a painted metal piggy bank on the corner of his desk. It was a black and pink pig with gold wings and the kids were entranced with it.

"You came to the right place," he continued in a loud and joyful voice. "We provide many services".

My spirits rose. I thought: Laundry, showers, grocery store. Dave asked how much the mooring was.

"30 dollars for the night, unless a storm is predicted, then I charge $50."

Dave is seldom one to hold back his opinions: "Are you nuts! 30 dollars! That's highway robbery!"

"But I provide lots of services! I provide free Internet access, coffee, and donuts. No one else in town offers free Internet access!"

"I just used the free Internet over at the Information center," said Dave.

"Really! They have Internet over there? For free?"

Holly and Teiga were caressing the painted pig. "Why does it have wings?" Holly asked.

"It's good luck," our man answered. "It means that even my business can fly." Another optimist, I thought.

"Can we use the showers?" Dave asked.

"Well, we don't have showers, but you can have some coffee!"

I looked at the dirty coffee maker. Ugh. "How about laundry?" I persisted.

"We have a laundry service," he said proudly. "Drop it off in the morning and we'll get it to you the next day! It's $1/lb and $3 handling charge."

I began to calculate how many pounds of laundry we had. My wet jeans and sweatshirt would cost more to launder than to replace.

I picked up his map of Rockland and pointed to the grocery store. "How far is this?" I asked.

"A few miles, not too far to walk," he said cheerily.

"Walking back with the kids and the groceries would be a drag," mused Dave. "We want to provision."

"Do you need a ride?" he asked brightly.

At last, I thought, we're going to get a service. "That would be great."

"Well," he continued brightly, "there are two taxi companies. Do you want me to look the numbers up in the phone book for you? You can use my phone!"

"Forget it." We walked out wearily.

Studying the map, I saw that by rowing across the harbor we could decrease the walk to the laundry and grocery store by several miles. It looked like there was a small dock we could use.

Off we went. Dave figured out where to tie up and before we knew it we had bought our provisions and were lugging groceries back to the dinghy. Typical of a long heavy haul, I felt my fingers go numb, then my palms, then I used the natural swing of my legs to push along the grocery bags I was carrying. The worst is stopping to rest. That's when the blood rushes back into the deep creases created by the plastic bag handles. It's best to push for as long as possible.

Back on DRIVER we had a Fresh Food Feast. Then it was off with our 80 pounds of laundry. Dave had checked the opening hours of the laundromat so we knew we were cutting it close. It closed at 9pm. We arrived at 7:35, and unburdened ourselves by dropping our heavy bags on the floor. "Pumph" As I walked gleefully up to the first triple loader a large boiled-looking woman came over to me.

"Sorry dearie, but we don't allow customers to start washes after 7:30."
I looked at her for a few seconds disbelievingly."So, if I had come in five minutes ago I could have done my wash?"

She contemplated her watch for a while. "Well, I guess that's right." She was a kind person and agreed to let us leave our bags of dirty laundry under one of the tables until the next day. "But I can't take responsibility for it," she warned.

"I can't believe anyone would want to steal our stinky laundry," I said.

"You'd be surprised." she answered.