The green light at the end of the dock

The end of a dock. In the silence – that’s not so silent – of a summer night. Halyards clinking on masts, laughter and porch light drifting across the water. Some docks, like Jay Gatsby’s, have a green light to give people their bearings, tiny lighthouses showing the way through the darkened harbor. Others, like the green light at the end of the NavCad dock in Annapolis — a salute to those eternally on patrol — are  comforting beacons. Like the US Navy, leaving a light on for those arriving late.

Here at Spruce Point the dock is a sociable focal point for guests arriving by yacht, be it the Kennedys and the Glenns, or others who prefer to be anonymous. There’s something about a launch like our Bright Line, nestling alongside and bringing the waterborne ashore – families, couples, summer people and their guests. Somehow the launch drivers, like our Ken, know instinctively how to navigate among the anchor buoys, appearing with perfect timing out of the darkness like a special waterbird who knows where the flock is gathering close.

Bright Line comes from a long line of yacht club launches, sensitive as a coach horse to her cargo of the silks and seersucker of a summer night. The Spruce Point dock, like the floorboards of our historic Inn, springs with the steps of new feet, new stories, bound for the casual luxury of an August night.

And beneath the dark glass surface of Boothbay, Spruce Point’s heart “beats on, borne back ceaselessly into the past.” Etching the stories of the perfect summer, the perfect night, the perfect company into our shared history.