Food tables overflowed with savory and sweets alike to compliment the turkey chili that Courtney makes weeks and months in advance for the Falmouth Road Race post-race party. The scene was boisterous and loud at Courtney and Carolyn’s annual party, a tradition since 1972. Dozens of families and friends had come from all around the Cape, but especially from the Falmouth and Woods Hole towns. Each guest brought another pie, cheese, or plate of cookies, adding to the already full tables. In addition to food, two kegs of beer were tapped and many bottles of wine were opened. The pours were generous but more kept coming along with sodas and Capri Sun pouches for the kids. The crowds at Courtney's rivaled those at the race earlier...
Hoards of grandparents and kids swarmed the yard, deck, and house at the feet of the able-bodied adults, most of whom were current/former runners. Guests swapped stories of the day’s run, running club gossip, and tales of old/new running injuries. (For more on my run and fitness-oriented weekend at Falmouth, please see my SunnyDayFitness blog here). Ulandt must have introduced me to a dozen people, but eventually we all lost track of each other’s names, gave up on conversation, and just enjoyed the party. In the backyard, an old-time Dixieland jazz band entertained with horns, a banjo, a trombone and drums. Dancing started on the lawn as the sun was setting over the marsh at the backyard’s edge. Lights came on over the bandstand illuminating smiling faces like fireflies in the night. It was so loud at times that I sometimes found myself at the fringe edge of the party, seeking solace in the quiet side garden out of sight of the guests and hosts. Contrast this exuberant scene with the calm disappointment found in my failed attempt at bioluminescent critter-finding later that same evening.
After the party had reached its zenith, my friend Ulandt and I ventured down to the water’s edge at Woods Hole with hopes of seeing funny little jellyfish that glow in the dark. Ulandt said that he had seen the bioluminescence many times before on summer nights like these. To get to the best viewing area we drove a long, winding dark road that is part of the Cape Cod Marathon course: Sippiwessett Road. The air was dark and cool and smelled like summer. Arriving at the harbor we decided to stay near the harbor docks and peered into the rippled water’s edge. Nothing. No glowing baubles or fishes could be seen in the depth or at the shores. Only dark and quiet gently moving water. Ulandt decided that a little disturbance could help our efforts, so he dipped a foot into the water’s surface and kicked it around a little. We waited and looked. Still nothing. He had seen the bioluminescent “ctenophores” before, but I never had, and this was not to be the night for me to see them. Here's what we were looking for, the ctenophore:
So we went home, and took advantage of the extra time to sleep on that calm summer night. By 11pm Ulandt had retired to the back cabin while I stayed awake in the main house. I plotted out the route on the map for the “return to Plymouth and catch the train” ride: 30-35 miles. I would just need to cross the Bourne Bridge and make my way to Plymouth for the Commuter Rail. Eagerly anticipating the journey ahead, I drifted off to dream about the glowing sea creatures still to be seen on a future visit to the Cape. P.S. I did just barely make it to the Commuter Rail the next day; on board the departing train at 12:10pm.
