NARRAGANSETT, R.I.-
The broad brown expanse of Town Beach feels old and established, like much of New England. It's rimmed by parking lots, most restricted to pass holders, then a sidewalk and four-lane boulevard, though vehicles will stop at the crosswalks.
"Are you kidding me? We have to pay 26 bucks to go to the beach?" Molly said. It was $6 to park in the visitor's lot across the boulevard and $5 apiece for daily visitor admission, though 2-year-old Michael got in free. We'd driven an hour and a half from Boston to the southern end of Rhode Island. Somebody at Warm Winds surf shop said we'd better get there soon after they opened at 10 a.m. or most of the rented boards would be gone.
The morning was overcast, the sand loosely but steadily populated. Families set out blankets and picnicked. A few gulls flew in and honked for handouts. Lifeguards with washboard abs tested themselves racing dories and paddle boards out to buoys and back. Others sat in high chairs, watching the seabathers, occasionally blowing whistles.
The water was about 72 degrees in late July. There was a steady wind. A lot of people went swimming.
"It's so misty," Alexandra said. A vintage schooner appeared like a ghost ship on the horizon and disappeared again.
When the rain suddenly poured down shortly after noon, people gathered their kids, towels and umbrellas and ran up to the broad pavilion until it stopped.
In town, we had an unremarkable lunch at a second-story outdoor bar and cafe that had a good view of the end of the beach. About 40 surfers crowded into the first patch of water, nearest the seawall that rounds along the stone castle and visitors center.
From there, about a quarter-mile of surf was restricted to swimmers, then surfers were allowed again beyond that, where we took long boards in the morning. There was plenty of room to fall and not worry about who might ride into you.
In the afternoon, we left the SUV in town and carried the boards to the crowded corner and joined the surfers bobbing beyond the breakers. The green water smelled faintly fishy. Waves rolled in, some waist-high, breaking 20 to 30 yards from shore, providing short rides, wipeouts, fun.
In late afternoon, the cloud-covered sky turned lavender. We stayed until Michael, who gleefully ran on the beach, dug in the sand and splashed for hours, got tired. He fell asleep on the ride home. We left about 5 p.m. and tried to figure out how, among other commitments, to find the time to go back the next day.
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