Cohasset is where Boston's South Shore turns rocky. Most of the coast between the city and Plymouth is low and sandy, but here the granite pushes up through the turf, and the road along the water, Route 3A, winds past stone walls, big old trees and views of a harbour full of moored sailboats. The village green, with its white church and Victorian town hall, looks like a stage set, and the whole place has a polished, unhurried air.
The sea off Cohasset has claimed more than its share of ships. A mile or so offshore, Minot's Ledge is a reef that shows only at low tide, and the first lighthouse built on it, an iron tower on spindly legs, was swept away in a great storm in April 1851 with two assistant keepers inside. The replacement, an immense tower of interlocking granite blocks, was finished in 1860 and still stands, a stern grey pillar rising out of the waves. Its light flashes in a pattern of one, four and three, which sailors and lovers translate as I love you, and the tower is known locally by that name.
Another disaster is remembered here, too. In October 1849, the brig St John, carrying Irish families fleeing the famine, wrecked on the rocks in a gale within sight of the shore, and nearly a hundred people drowned. The town buried the dead, and a memorial, with a moving sculpture, now stands near the harbour. Cohasset's history of wreckage, rescue and quiet remembrance gives the pleasant seafront a sombre depth.
For a rider, the coast road is slow and lovely, with tight bends between stone walls, a speed limit that is enforced and plenty of cyclists in good weather. Beyond the village, the road runs along the edge of the marshes to Scituate and Marshfield, with the Atlantic glinting beyond. Traffic is light on weekday mornings and heavier at weekends. The surface is mostly good, though frost heaves can roughen the edges in spring. Fog rolls in from the sea at any time and drops the temperature sharply.
With about seven thousand people, Cohasset has fuel and the basics, and a few cafes and seafood places around the harbour and the common, but if you want a wider choice, Hingham, a short way to the northwest, and Scituate to the south are both easy. A coffee and a blueberry muffin on the harbour wall is a good start, and a lobster roll at a harbourside shack makes a fine lunch. In autumn, the light over the water is superb, with a low gold glow that turns the granite pink. Take a moment at the memorial before you go.