An Anniversary Adventure—Almost as Planned

Wedding anniversaries come around once a year, yet we always seem to wait until the last minute to plan something special. Our 2026 anniversary was no different—except this time, we actually did something.

We knew June 24 was approaching, but meetings, classes, and a full production schedule left us with barely a plan. Mike had made a 7:15 p.m. reservation at an upscale local restaurant. There was only one problem: dining beside the water beneath a cloudy evening sky might leave him watching a colorful sunset unfold while he was trapped at the dinner table.

Then an alternate plan came to mind.

We would drive to the Parker River National Wildlife Refuge on Plum Island, just outside Newburyport, Massachusetts, photograph some birds, have dinner at a waterfront restaurant, and then head north to Hampton Beach, New Hampshire, to capture a sunset image I had been planning for some time.

A large fishing boat often moors in the bay there. With the incoming tide, its bow faces downstream, placing the setting sun directly behind it. With luck, the evening color would reflect across the water. The plan became even more promising when I discovered that sunset and high tide would occur within minutes of each other. The boat should be positioned perfectly, with the water smooth as silk.

What we had not planned for was a construction zone on Interstate 95 that backed up traffic for miles. The delay meant skipping the bird photography—unless we could squeeze it in after dinner.

Deck seating at the Tuscan Sea Grill & Bar in Newburyport, MA

Our reservation was at the Tuscan Sea Grill & Bar, located directly on the water. We could not have asked for a better place to celebrate. A gentle breeze from the west kept the air moving on the warm evening, the food was excellent, and the service was outstanding.

After dinner, we made a mad dash to the wildlife refuge. It yielded exactly zero photographs. The water was low, and the birds were scarce.

So, on to Hampton.

We found parking close to the planned shooting location. The fishing boat was not in an ideal position, but I could work with it. The gnats, however, were vicious and numerous.

We waited for nearly an hour, hoping for the color we wanted. As time passed, the chances looked increasingly slim. Then the wind shifted, rotating the boat until only its stern was visible. To make matters worse, someone had left a four-foot fluorescent lamp burning inside the wheelhouse.

My planned composition, just with the boat pointing down stream towards the ocean and the sunset more vibrant.

I waited patiently, swatting gnats and rubbing bites.

Then the wind shifted again. The boat began rotating counterclockwise toward a better position, and hope returned—even though the sky looked less promising by the minute. I checked the composition, adjusted the exposure, and took several test shots.

That was when a large fishing charter came rumbling into the bay and tied up at the neighboring dock, its stern completely blocking the photograph.

Eventually, the charter moved forward enough to open the view. With a small adjustment to the composition, I would still be able to capture the scene—if the sunset color appeared.

Wonderful evening light . . . just not where I needed it.

Just as the charter’s stern was nearly out of the frame, they switched on its massive bank of rear-facing floodlights, completely washing out the shot.

That was when we said goodbye to the gnats and headed home.

We had planned three anniversary activities. Only one went as expected—but the wonderful dinner made the entire trip worthwhile.