Provincetown - Part 4

Still on MacMillan Wharf at daybreak, I was fascinated and charmed by the fishing fleet, some ships coming to life as their crews arrived for work and some ships apparently allowed to sleep in late. Well, it was a Sunday morning after all:

That red building held a sunken treasure museum which I would have loved to see but never got a chance. They did, however, have an outdoor display of an ancient cannon rescued from a sunken ship:

Another immature Herring Gull watches over the drowsy wharf:

This fisherman removes the tarp so he can begin his day:

I couldn't verify this, but we believed that building at the end of a nearby pier was where some famous playwrights and poets once performed their works:

A pair of fishing boats snooze together in the morning half-light:

The gulls are awake, noisy and working for their breakfast. The fishing fleet is just awakening:

Morning has arrived over MacMillan Wharf:

Provincetown - Part 3, Dawn Breaks Over MacMillan Wharf

On Sunday morning I was, as usual, awake and out of bed at a ridiculously early hour. I knew that most people in Provincetown sleep late and most businesses, therefore, don't open until 10:00 or later. So I was unsure where I'd find a cup of coffee. I took a walk down Commercial Street to MacMillan Wharf and watched the sun rise over Cape Cod Bay:

I did, by the way, find a little place on the wharf selling early morning coffee and breakfast sandwiches to the fisherman as they began their day. The sun was just beginning to rise up over the horizon:

The sky was changing moment by moment, painted red one moment and silver the next. There was at the beginning an eerie silence, but the gulls and other birds were increasingly active and increasingly noisy:

Most of Provincetown was sleeping on the shore line, quaint little clapboard or shingled structures which had weathered hundreds of storms:

As the sun burst over the horizon it became more difficult to get photos:

And it was very chilly. I'd forgotten to bring a jacket and had to buy a hooded sweatshirt in town when I arrived:

As I proceeded out onto the wharf I began to see Provincetown's fishing fleet:

MacMillan Wharf is quite long and as I walked out farther and farther, I could see the sleepy town lying behind the docked boats back on the shore:

There is a real fishing fleet here in addition to the pleasure boats, whale watching ships, ferries and commercial sailing vessels:

As the sun continued to rise, I saw the Pilgrim Monument back on land:

This fisherman rowed out to his boat which was anchored out in the harbor. It was time for him to start his work day. I saw other men loading barrels of cut-up fish into their boat for use as bait:

It would be difficult to imagine a more scenic sunrise scenario. It made for a fine start to my day: