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In hot pursuit of a good lobster roll, my roommate and I drove to New London to visit Captain Scott’s Lobster Dock. The lobster was fine, but what’s with the bad, white, Wonder bread rolls? If you want fresh, melt-in-your-mouth just-baked dough, order the clam fritters. I guess they’re New England’s version of a hush puppy minus the corn and onion. They were YUM! and tasted like they’d been deep-fried within the hour. After dinner we strolled the dock and watched the seagulls fight for french-fry territory in the dumpster. The evening still young, we drove down the road to Groton and landed at Avery Point. In the silence of dusk, we watched the sun set and a black submarine slide into the mouth of the Thames River from Long Island Sound.