Breaking the Sound Barrier: A tale of two shorefronts

The stretch of shorefront between the Pulaski Street Bridge in Stamford and Greenwich Point in Old Greenwich is perhaps one of the least freely accessible patches of waterfront in our series so far. Without the assistance of helpful guides along the way, we may have seen very little in the way of breathtaking vistas.

We began our hike with a tour along the outskirts of the O&G asphalt and concrete plant, one of the last bits of Stamford Harbor still used as industrial waterfront. Dozens of concrete mixers whirred at high volume over the voice of our guide, Facilities Manager Richard Warren, while he explained why the company does not support the city's recent request that O&G provide a public waterfront walkway as part of proposed

renovations.

Barges regularly visit the company docks to drop off loads of sand and stone from Branford; Hudson, N.Y.; and New Jersey, he said.

"We can't permit public access underneath operating cranes," Warren said.

Instead, O&G has proposed a green space that would "wind its way around" the highly active plant to Davenport Street, where we walked with Warren alongside a chain-link fence. A picturesque and public Mill River corridor has been the dream of city planners for decades, but clearly, even as the city takes its first steps to rehabilitate the river, obstacles to achieving a public greenway remain.

public to private

Next we chatted with a few people in Southfield Park, one of the few truly public

spots along our route. Joshua Cubur, 11, modestly told us the skills he has learned from the Stamford Sailing Foundation, a charity sailing school based in the park.

"I learned how to do knots and capsize on purpose, so one day, if you capsize accidentally, you'll know what to do," Joshua said. "A lot of times I like it, but it's also hard."

Kids in life vests swarmed to the boats, enjoying themselves under the warm morning sun. The four-week summer program has 40 students this year, ages 10 to 14, said Chris Witschy, director of curriculum.

"These are kids who would normally not be able to sail," Witschy said. "Sailing is a very, very expensive sport."

Down on the beach, Bob Bartram, of North Stamford, arrived shortly before 10 a.m. with fishing pole in tow to catch striped bass in the harbor's West Branch. Bartram, 63, said he scours local beaches for sea glass and often sails his 17-foot dinghy, the Giacomo, from a nearby marina.

"I've lived all over the world, and living near the water in Connecticut is the best," Bartram said.

Half a mile down the road, where Southfield Avenue becomes Dolphin Cove Quay, our brief encounter with public shorefront ended abruptly at a charming blue sign reading, "Private No Outlet."

Luckily, we stumbled across a friendly construction contractor, Andrew Grunow, who was working on a new patio for a client. Grunow built several Dolphin Cove houses in the early 1970s. Before then, the area was a farm, he said.

"We used to come here and shoot pheasants," Grunow said. "It was like the good old days when everybody had fun."

Grunow said he remembers when lots sold for $25,000 to $75,000, depending on the view. Now houses on the street sell for $1.5 million to $2 million, he said.

Most of the idyllic backyards come up to the sea wall on the man-made lagoon. But thanks to our photographer, a friendly face gave us a peek of the beautiful view.

Anthony Domino, 72, a retired pension consultant, bought his dream house on Dolphin Cove in 1998, after waiting five years for the property to come up for sale.

"When I heard about it, I immediately got on a train to New York and wrote a check," Domino said.

We had to agree the place was worth it. Domino has views of the Sound from nearly every room, an outdoor dining area, an upstairs patio, and backyard steps that lead directly to the beach.

"This is the best part of Dolphin Cove," Domino boasted of his slice of paradise. "At low tide, you can go out with a rake and get mussels and clams."

The micro-neighborhood is social, with many empty-nesters who often gather at the adjoining private marina and cabana for parties and clambakes, but the area is closed to the public.

"Residents can use it for family functions, but we do not let outsiders in here," Domino said.

into Greenwich

Across the town line, we met up with Stanley Thal, an Old Greenwich resident and volunteer fire captain. Thal showed us the Tomac Lane dock, a fleeting patch of public space tucked at the end of Tomac Lane and Shore Road. The area is not visited very frequently, Thal said.

A plaque at the site honors the 1640 purchase by Capt. Daniel Patrick and Robert Feake of the strip of land, then dubbed the settlement of Horseneck, that later grew into modern Greenwich.

Lest we believe New Englanders were more genteel in those days, Thal's friend and neighbor Michael Gavin set us straight.

"Greenwich was founded by a bunch of people who wanted to fight and drink and chase each other's wives," Gavin said.

"In other words, things haven't changed much," Thal chimed in, good-naturedly poking fun at his adopted hometown.

Thal accompanied us through Old Greenwich, towing an inflatable boat in case we ventured into the water and became mired in mud or encountered hazards.

Skipping an opportunity to trespass above the high water mark, we walked on Binney Lane past the gargantuan yet elegant shorefront mansions in an unsuccessful effort to find stretches of passable coastline. The low tides had come and gone.

"You're going to have a hard time walking along the shore," Thal said.

Ultimately, we walked Shore Road, the public thoroughfare, into Greenwich Point Park. Thal again came to our aid, waiving us past the checkpoint as "guests." Had we come on our own, as nonresidents, we would have had to purchase day passes at $20 per car, plus $5 per person, at Town Hall in advance of the trip. In fact, we encountered a young couple from Virginia just outside the park, and we explained that they couldn't enter without a pass.

Inside, the sandy beach was packed, despite it being a weekday afternoon. The crowd was mostly monochromatic: a group of three young minorities stood out as some of the only nonwhite people in the park. Many mothers, some on vacation and others not constrained by day jobs, played with their kids on the beach.

Pam McHugh, 27, of Cos Cob, relaxed in the shade with her 11-month-old daughter and a group of young mothers. McHugh, a lawyer who is not now working, said she had "no comment" about Greenwich's beach access policy.

Four years ago, Stamford resident Paul Kempner sued the town for charging nonresidents a $10 fee to enter, and although a judge dismissed Kempner's argument, Greenwich did eventually lower the fee.

"It's tough. As a lawyer but also as a resident, it's sort of conflicting interests," McHugh said.