Here's Rick's inimitable trip report:
If you have ever flown commercially from Logan and gone out over the outer Boston Harbor, you've seen a lighthouse sitting on a small rocky ledge with waves crashing in from the Atlantic. This is known as the Graves lighthouse, and I've looked from a plane seat for years at it sitting out on its rocky ledge and wanting to paddle out to it. It's a trip that requires a good summer day with fairly calm seas since it can be quite rough out there. Yesterday was that summer day and the Graves lighthouse looked a little less remote and the ocean friendlier with just some rolling swells in the outer Harbor, and so joined by Anna, Ben, Peter, Robin, and Tesla on a club trip we made the 4 nautical mile crossing for a visit. On the way out we also passed the Boston Light which we stopped by on the return. Boston Light is the oldest lighthouse in the US, built in 1716, equipped with a Fresnel lens (300 and some pieces of original glass) in 1856, quite the view from the top. Anybody who can get out there can get a tour, there are tours from Boston.
Thanks to Robin's mother who owns a house in Hull at Pt. Allerton which sits 1 nautical mile across from the Boston Light on Little Brewster Island, we were given a great launch site. One would have to consult a local sea kayaking guide book for other potential launch sites or look for public boat ramps and marinas in the area. With a camp over and early start, we made a calm crossing from Pt. Allerton over to Little Brewster where the Boston Light stands, and continued between Middle and Outer Brewster for a 2 nautical mile crossing over to the Graves. The Graves lighthouse sits down on the water, but is protected by rocky ledges. At near high tide we could find no landing, so paddled around in the surf and enjoyed a lengthy visit as who knows when we'd be able to get out there again. On the return, we took a lunch break in a beach slot on Outer Brewster and headed back to Little Brewster for a tour of the Boston Light by a group of very friendly coast guard people. The final 1 nautical mile stretch back to Pt. Allerton was an exciting paddle as the swells and boat wake mixed and we had to cross a busy boat channel, but all were strong paddlers and we had an enjoyable last stretch.
I'd call this a classic trip, hopefully we'll try to do again next summer. I do recommend anybody considering this trip to do it on a nice summer day and plan carefully, and be a strong paddler ready for changing ocean conditions.
Rick
![]() | Here can be found a map showing everything between Hull (we left from the little spit sticking north off Point Allerton) and the Graves lighthouse (right at the top). | |
| big | ![]() | In an almost flat calm (made flatter by the fishing boats pouring fishy oils onto the bay, which, admittedly, the seagulls loved), we head out. Here we are crossing the channel toward the old lighthouse on Little Brewster. |
| big | ![]() | Robin in an oil slick. Behind her is, I believe, Middle Brewster Island. |
| big | ![]() | Peter in an oil slick. Yellow, thought Arthur Dent. |
| big | ![]() | A funny little loop on Middle Brewster. Perhaps an old door. Walls keep people out, doors let them in. All that remains is the door. How hospitable. |
| big | ![]() | Old dead ship? |
| big | ![]() | Peter between Outer and Middle Brewster Islands. Behind is the Brewster lighthouse again. |
| big | ![]() | Anna, with Outer Brewster in the background. |
| big | ![]() | Finally, we approach the Graves lighthouse. Of course some dinosaur-burners have beaten us there. |
| big | ![]() | The white at the base of the rocks is breaking waves. The white at the top of the rocks smells bad. There were a truly amazing number of birds, mostly cormorants and a few gulls, but by and large the gulls were mooching off fishing boats. |
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| big | ![]() | Of course, an exposed little pile of rock like the Graves has surf, so we spent quite a while messing around in the rock gardens. Here, Anna heads out through a foamy patch. The sky isn't suddenly dark; I think the surf just confused my poor camera. |
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| big | ![]() | Um, er, someone's paddle. |
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| big | ![]() | Tesla trying to ram me as she surfs down the face of a wave. |
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| big | ![]() | A patch of foam sat off one of the rocks. Tesla believes that I am incomplete without foamy headgear. Here, she tries, unsuccessfully I might add, to cap me with it. Perhaps I can convince her that whipped cream is preferred. |
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| big | ![]() | We stopped on Outer Brewster Island for lunch. Various of us went for quick walks, the better to commune with nature. Only I chose to document my trip. Here I look back, vaguely south and a little west. |
| big | ![]() | Who knew seagulls were so fuzzy? |
| big | ![]() | Nice cozy cove, surrounded by cliffs. Heaps of trash lined the beach, reminding us that we were still very much in Boston. |
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