Connecticut Tourism Initiative Should Learn from Mystic's Model

The Joseph Conrad. Built in 1882 in Denmark as a ship for training seamen, it was later used for the same purpose by Australia and the United States.

When Gov. Dannel P. Malloy's $27 million tourism branding campaign for Connecticut launched earlier this year, the town of Mystic featured prominently.

One of the posters created by the campaign shows a beluga whale “kissing” a young girl, accompanied by the caption “Still Mystical.” On ctvisit.com, a map of Connecticut's regions lists the entire eastern half of the state – encompassing three counties, two of which are landlocked – as “Mystic Country.”

It's not surprising that the state would capitalize on Mystic. Even in the days when previous Gov. M. Jodi Rell infamously reduced the tourism budget to a dollar and Connecticut “disappeared” from Discover New England's tourismmap, Mystic remained a shining beacon, drawing thousands of visitors to the aquarium and seaport each year.

Although attitudes about tourism have begun to change, Mystic remains one of the few places in the state with a developed industry. The Offices of Culture and Tourism (the wing of the Department of Economic & Community Development responsible for breathing new life into the tourist industry) can learn a lot from Mystic's model.

The Mystic River Bascule Bridge, built in 1922, crosses the water at the heart of downtown. During the warmer seasons, the bridge opens on the fortieth of every hour during the day. A whistle is blown that can be heard up and down the river.

The Steamboat Inn, located on Water Street, has rooms that look directly out over the Mystic River.

Spanky the harbor seal (Phoca vitulina) lounges in the water at the Mystic Aquarium.

Part of Mystic Aquarium's mission includes educating people about the ocean. This display of adult dogfish (Scyliorhinus canicula) and their eggs allows visitors to see the live embryos at various stages of development.

Spotted jellies (Matigias papua), which are native to the Pacific Ocean, swirl in loops around their tank at the Mystic Aquarium.

The “blubber room” on the Charles W. Morgan, the oldest American marine vessel and the last American wooden whaling ship. Visitors to Mystic Seaport can board the ship, which is currently undergoing further revitalization.

Blueprints of the Charles W. Morgan.

The S.S. Sabino, a 104-year-old wooden, coal-fired steamboat, readies with a load of passengers for a cruise down Mystic River.

The kitchen inside the fishing schooner L.A. Dunton, first launched in 1921.

A cannon aboard the Joseph Conrad.

All photographs by Brandon T. Bisceglia.

Stone Marks Mystic's Prehistory

This boulder in Mystic, Conn. was dropped by ice sheets that covered the state during the last glacial period.

Photograph by Brandon T. Bisceglia.

We just happened to be heading in the direction of the erratic.

My wife, Valeria, and I were driving to Mystic, Conn. for the weekend to celebrate our third anniversary. I had suggested the destination because I knew that Mystic was one of the few spots in the state that understood how to create a successful tourism industry while retaining its New England charm.

As we traced the coastline eastward in the waning June afternoon, we listened to Friday's episode of WhereWe Live, a radio talk show about Connecticut based out of WNPR in Hartford. Host John Dankosky was talking with experts about the area's geology.

He brought photographer Frtiz Hoffmann on. Hoffmann had traveled the country taking pictures of big rocks for a story that appeared in the March issue of National Geographic.

These weren't just any big rocks, though – they had been plopped down by the last group of glaciers to cover much of the United States during the most recent Ice Age, which ended around 13,000 years ago.

Hoffmann's pictures were of erratics – huge boulders that looked like they had dropped into their environment from the sky. The most famous of these are probably the rocks in Central Park.

When the ice sheets slid southward to cover the continent, they scooped up tremendous masses of earth. As the ice receded, it left that material behind.

“You have a beautiful picture of one (erratic) at the edge of a parking lot in Mystic, Connecticut,” we heard Dankosky say.

From that point, I was determined to track the boulder down.

That evening, we arrived at the Steamboat Inn on Water Street. The inn hugs the dock that lines the Mystic River and leads to the town's drawbridge. As we checked in, I asked about the rock in the parking lot.

“Oh, I think I read something about that,” the woman said. “I don't know where the rock is, but I remember the picture showed the rock next to a Salvation Army bin.”

Once we were settled in our room, I cracked open the laptop and searched for the National Geographic article. Sure enough, the rock was on the periphery of a parking lot. The Salvation Army bin was there, too. So was an employee of the mystery store, who was pushing a caravan of shopping carts across the foreground of the shot.

I decided to search for Salvation Army donation locations. No luck. The website only listed donation centers.

I did a Google search for “boulder erratic mystic, ct,” and found an article on the local Patch.com website about the National Geographic feature. Another photo of the rock. The caption said it could be found at the Big Y. I found the Big Y on a map of Mystic.

The following afternoon, Valeria and I took a detour from the traditional tourist destinations to visit the boulder.

It was truly gigantic. The National Geographic article had called it a leaverite, as in “leav 'er right there,” a nickname given for boulders deemed by construction workers as too cumbersome to bother moving. Indeed, a gap had been left in the chain-link fence surrounding the property to accommodate the erratic.

It was perhaps the most rewarding moment of the trip. Tourist destinations like Olde Mistick Village and Mystic Seaport capitalize on our desire to connect with the past that has shaped our present. Yet contained within this random rock largely ignored by passersby was a deeper history than any of the tourists who flock to Mystic ever get to see.

Every stone has a story. You just have to know where to look.

Me standing in front of the erratic.

Photograph by Valeria Garrido-Bisceglia.

Cynicism in Donovan Scandal Premature

Christopher G. Donovan, Speaker of the Connecticut. House of Representatives, on the opening day of the 2009 legislative session. Members of Donovan's campaign to replace Fifth District Congressman Chris Murphy have come under scrutiny by federal officials for allegedly concealing the sources of donations.

Photograph courtesy of Toasterb. Some rights reserved.

The allegations against House Speaker Chris Donovan's campaign finance director, Robert Braddock, Jr., and an unknown number of co-conspirators are serious indeed. But any cynical dismissal of Donovan (or politics more generally) as corrupt is premature.

Donovan has reacted appropriately so far. He fired key players in the controversy and is cooperating with federal authorities. His first public statement was slow in coming, but hit the right notes. He hasn't been charged with any wrongdoing, and has said he didn't know that anyone might be trying to funnel illegal contributions to his campaign.

That denial is credible. Donovan's personal role in the scandal appears to be tangential. Braddock was a new face in Connecticut. And Donovan is well-known as a crusader against the very types of influence-peddling now being rooted out at the Capitol. Unless the federal investigation turns up evidence that contradicts his statements, we must take him at his word.

This doesn't mean that Donovan is off the hook. He has already accepted responsibility for signing off on campaign hires, including Braddock. Going forward, he will need to be honest and forthright with investigators and voters as the probe continues. And he will need to redouble scrutiny of his own staff to make sure he is not plagued by scandals in the future.

In the meantime, it's prudent to wait for all of the facts to come out before making any judgments.

We shouldn't be surprised that corruption exists – that's why we have campaign finance laws in the first place. If anything, the discovery of these illegal contributions is proof that vigilance and enforcement can keep corruption from overtaking the system.

A version of this commentary was also published in the Connecticut Post.

Rain Doesn't Stop Venus Transit Watchers

Photograph by Brandon T. Bisceglia.

Despite intermittent rain, astronomy buffs and curious families gathered outside Bridgeport's Discovery Museum Tuesday to catch a first-hand glimpse of Venus as it crossed the face of the sun. Around 7 p.m., the sun broke through the clouds long enough for everyone to look through the telescopes set up in front of the entrance to the museum.

The next transit of Venus will not occur until 2117.