Thoughts on Sailing

Thoughts on Sailing

Monday 31^st August 2020

 

This morning we had one of the best sails of the trip. We left Somes Harbor around 8am and motored down the fiord in very light northwesterly winds, heading for Frenchboro, a tiny lobster fishing village on Long island about 15 miles south. We tried sailing shortly after leaving Somes sound but found we could only make 2 knots of speed! However, a little later the wind picked up and shifted to a more westerly direction and we were off. The next two hours were magic; perfect wind, flat seas and few enough lobster pots that we could sail around them with confidence. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve reached the conclusion that Maine is a tremendous place to cruise but not a great place to sail, at least not in our boat. You really need a full-keel boat with an enclosed propeller so that you can sail without worrying about the pots. Now here’s a confession: I’m not here primarily for the sailing. It’s the experience of living on the boat and being able to spend time in such beautiful places that I really enjoy. I do like sailing, but I also don’t mind motoring too much, and we do end up doing quite a lot of it. Part of that is because we need to run the engine for about two x 45 minute periods per day to cool the fridge (direct drive compressor off the engine) and charge the batteries, so we try to do that whilst we are moving. But up here in Maine it’s also because we feel that motoring gives us more control whilst we are trying to avoid pots. But then on days like today, it is just marvelous to switch off the engine and enjoy the peace and quiet of a relaxing sail.

 

A fellow sailor we met a few days ago recommended Frenchboro to us. Thanks Gerald, you were right - it was beautiful! We were able to pick up a rental mooring (anchoring room is severely limited) and went into the town dock for a lobster roll lunch. Gloria opted for that other Maine specialty, the Burrito! We suspect that today may have been their last day of business for the season.

 

Mike

 

44 07.363 N, 68 21.745 W

Frenchboro, Long Island, Maine

Lobster fishing gear on a dock

A small snake that we encountered whilst walking the island

An amazing sunset from Frenchboro harbor

A lemon grass reed air freshener we have in the main cabin, lit up by the sun through the port

Addicted to the Inter-webs

Addicted to the Inter-webs

Sunday 30th August 2020

 

You don’t realize how addicted you are to the web and electronic communication until you find yourself without it. Here in Somes harbor we have some cell phone connectivity but not enough to support data transfer and consequently no access to the “Inter-webs”. Amazingly I was able to complete two calls to my brother and sister in the UK using “Whats-App” but that was a rare moment in a two-day period of electronic grey-out. I’m not sure why I even want to go on line, most of the news is enough to make you really depressed, but nonetheless I don’t like the feeling of being out of touch.

 

This morning was clear and calm, which was a relief after the crappy weather we had yesterday. We rowed the “Dumb Dog” to the beautiful dinghy dock and passed on the opportunity to donate a “minimum of $15” to support the facility. We would have made some sort of donation but the collection box was missing and a sign said the facilities were closed to transient boaters. Gloria and I congratulated ourselves on the decision to spend two nights here, because we figure that this means we aren’t “transient”! Shortly after we left the dinghy area we got into trouble for walking on a footpath that we thought was public but turned out to be private. I apologized my way out of the situation with my best British accent and we were on our way again! We actually had a lovely walk vaguely following a stream through the woods towards a pond. It was very peaceful and full of birds. We saw a number of warblers and vireos and a Swainson's thrush. The best part was on the way back we came across a sign for homemade pies and we went up to the house and bought a mixed berry pie from the lady who owns “MountDesserts” and we have high expectations.

 

When we returned to Cotinga the wind had really picked up as predicted and it was blowing 15-20 knots from the northwest. Consequently we had swung right round and were now uncomfortably close to a mooring. So after lunch we pulled up the anchor and re-positioned ourselves. We spent the afternoon aboard reading our books and trying to photograph (with little success) the numerous osprey and bald eagles that live around the harbor.

 

Mike

 

44 21.696 N, 68 19.659 W

The pretty stream leading up to Somes Pond

Cardinal Flower

Fish ladders that help with migration of Alewife fish up the stream (after the stream was dammed to power a watermill)

Shadow of a fern

Looking south down Somes sound after all the weather had passed through, the sun was down and the moon was up

 

Rain delay

Rain delay

Saturday 29^th August 2020

 

The overcast morning found us motoring north up Somes Sound to a protected cove called Somes Harbor.  On the way we passed the very deep anchorage in Valley Cove (?, the print is very tiny on the chart).  Mike really wanted to stay at this spot where the sheer cliff comes down nearly to the water’s edge.  I didn’t really fancy anchoring in 60ft of water in an area the guidebook says has poor holding.  The forecast of 20kt gusts from the south with possible thunder-storms, did not make that anchorage sound any better to me.

 

We arrived in this peaceful little spot at about 11 am.  Shortly thereafter, the rain began.  After a few hours the wind arrived.  The sound of the rain on the cabin top is quiet soothing. In contrast, when the wind picks up, there are creaks and groans as the boat swivels on the anchor. The canvas work flutters and flaps.  One can imagine what it might have been like to be on an old wooden sailing vessel. 

 

Now at about 6 pm it’s just drizzling and the wind has eased.  We could row to shore but it would mean getting into the dinghy (a wet experience) to pump out the accumulated water and everyone would end up with a wet butt.  The idea was put to a vote and rejected.  We did light our lantern for the first time in ages and are planning a quiet evening “at home”.

 

Gloria

 

44 21.696 N, 68 19.659 W

I call this photo "Waiting on a friend". The owner of this lovely Yawl rowed out to do something on the boat and left his dog in the dinghy. Somes Harbor, Somesville, before the rain

 The view from Somes harbor looking south just as the rain is starting, but the wind has yet to arrive

A Day of Fine Meals

A Day of Fine Meals

Friday 28 August 2020

 

Lunch and dinner today were fantastic! In fairness I should say that food at lunchtime was OK but the overall experience was great. This morning we motored over to an anchorage just north of South West Harbor on Mt Dessert Island, home of Acadia National Park. The harbor itself is totally full of moorings so we opted to stay in Norwood Cove, about a mile north, and just south of the entrance to Somes Sound, our final destination for this part of the trip. Anyway, once we were safely anchored we made lunch and decided to eat outside in the cockpit as it was quite warm and very pleasant. Lunch was salad … the usual ingredients, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, plus a few olives, some Gouda cheese and rare roast beef from the Deli. It was fine. Honestly, I like salad; it makes a great accompaniment to real food. What was special about this meal was the entertainment. We sat watching a family of loons swimming around and diving for food. They came quite close to the boat, making their lovely calling noises. It was quite the spectacle. As we were finishing our meal a small power boat pulled up behind and dropped anchor. It turned out this was the race boat for a one-class sailing race that started shortly after, with great views from our cockpit.

Once our extended lunch was over and we had enjoyed a little down-time, we jumped in the dinghy and headed into town. It only took 10 minutes to reach the town dock (with me driving and Gloria hanging on for dear life)! It was good to walk around although for such a Ritzy place you would think the pavements would not wobble so much. I guess we have been on the boat a while. Right next to the town dock is a lobster place and on our way back we bought two 1½ lb lobsters and this evening cooked up lobster scampi. It was delicious, served with a little Parmesan and a glass of white wine! If you are on the coast of Maine you have to eat lobster at least once.

 

Tomorrow promises crappy weather, so we’ll enjoy this peaceful evening.

 

Mike

 

44 17.447 N, 68 18.837 W

Common Loon - near South West Harbor

Beautiful red sailboat - (actually not part of the one-class race described above)

Ditto

Cooked lobsters

Lobster scampi

Is this Delaware Bay again?

Is this Delaware Bay again?

Thursday August 27^th, 2020

 

The chart called it Jericho bay but it seemed more like Delaware Bay to me (an area we have complained about bitterly in the past).  The forecast was predicting west winds 10-15 mph with gusts to 20.  We thought this sounded more promising than yesterday’s forecast, so we set off.  The white lobster floats matched beautifully with the abundant white caps, making for a white-knuckle voyage.  As we proceeded across the bay the waves became larger (more fetch), the pots became more numerous and the winds accelerated.  As we approached the red bell buoy at the start of the York narrows, the pots were so thick it was hard to believe.  Even the twisting passage of the narrows was laced with pot floats. Holy cow!  It may only have been about 10 nautical miles but it felt like more.

 

In the past we have often thought that the marine forecasts exaggerate the likely wind velocity.  Today, I would have been happy to have that.  Instead, I saw 26kts on the wind instrument. If today’s weather really was better than Wednesday’s, I am very grateful that we decided not to travel far yesterday.

 

We are anchored behind an island called Opechee Island.  Currently there is only one other vessel in the anchorage, which is tucked between Black Island, Pond Island and Sheep Island.  Mike took a dinghy ride ashore to sheep island and walked around the outside. He said it was beautiful. I stayed aboard and polished the stainless steel!

 

Gloria

 

44 12.583 N, 68 27.753 W

The "Dumb Dog" on the shore of Sheep Island - I landed on the beach then tied off on the rocks (I didn't want to lose my ride back to the rising tide!)

Macro shots on the beach - mussel shell

Macro shots on the beach - yellow snail

Macro shots on the beach - crab claw

 

 

Discretion is the better part of valor

Discretion is the better part of valor

Wednesday 26^th Aug 2020

 

We awoke this morning to clear skies and stiff winds out of the north-west. The forecast included a “small craft advisory” and predicted winds of 15-20 knots gusting to 25 knots. We were well protected in the “Hell’s Half Acre” anchorage but we could see a lot of whitecaps in the open water. Our plan had been to head out this morning across Jericho Bay to Swan’s Island, which is less than 10 miles, and then in the days following, continue up to Somes Sound on Mount Dessert Island.  But then we remembered our trip across Jericho Bay in 2012 when we inadvertently snagged a lobster pot float between the hull and propeller and ended up stern anchored to the pot with all our sails up, pointing downwind in bumpy seas. We eventually managed to get the sails down and by diving under the boat (in a wetsuit). I was able to cut the line, free the boat and subsequently spit out the float by putting the engine in reverse. A harrowing experience!

Over breakfast we contemplated our options: continue as planned, stay where we were or move a couple of miles north to an anchorage on Deer island that had good protection and dock-access to shore. We would expect an “off-the-wind” sail under these conditions to be really comfortable in Cotinga, however, we were far less certain that we would be able to see the lobster pots and avoid them effectively. We may simply be cowardly, but we like to think we are learning from experience, and as we are in no rush we decided not to go east today, but motor up into Webb cove to the north. It turned out to be pretty windy once we left the protection of the islands, but it only took us half an hour and we were safely anchored in our new spot. It took us another four hours before conditions settled enough that we felt happy to jump in the dinghy and head to shore. Once there, we had a nice walk around an abandoned granite quarry (Settlement Quarry) overlooking the ocean.

 

The northerly winds make it feel like autumn. The air is cool and the visibility is astonishing. It’s hard to imagine that three weeks ago we were desperate to jump in the water just to cool off!

 

Mike

44 10.049 N, 68 38.325 W

Looking down on Webb Cove, Deer Island, from the Settlement Granite quarry. You can just make out Cotinga anchored in the top left of the photo

We came across this fibre-glass boat mold covered in graffiti inside a large abandoned shed down near the water's edge below the quarry

Foggy nightmare

Foggy nightmare

Tuesday, August 25^th 2020

 

We woke to thick fog in the anchorage.  After breakfast, the fog seemed to be lifting so we pulled up the anchor.  By the time the anchor was stowed, the fog was coagulating again.  We motored out into the open water in dense fog.  Amazingly, the further we went the thicker the fog seemed to become.  In some areas the seas were glassy, in others there were wind ripples.  Everywhere there were lobster buoys.  We could hear the engines of lobster boats and even saw the ghostly outline of one vessel.

 

It’s a strange and dis-orienting sensation to be unable to see anything but white fog.  You strain your eyes trying to spot the floats from the lobster traps.  After a while you think you see shapes in the mist.  It’s hard to tell if the boat is going in a straight line or not.  At some point you wonder what will happen if you loose the GPS?  Then you tell yourself to keep watching for pots and let the helmsman worry about the navigation.

 

After two tense hours we arrived at “Hell’s Half Acre” anchorage.  I was very grateful to get the hook down and stop staring into the mist. 

 

Now it’s about 3 pm and the sun is out.  Looking out the stern of the boat in the direction we travelled earlier, there is a veritable forest of lobster traps.  I’m not at all sure how we arrived here without snagging one.  Blessings upon the helmsman!

 

Gloria

 

Postscript: Once the fog finally cleared in the mid-afternoon we took a short dinghy ride up to the island called “Hell’s Half Acre” and enjoyed a short walk. Before too long we started to hear thunder and could see that the weather was deteriorating, so we headed back to Cotinga. What followed was a pretty strong storm with thunder, lightening, winds over 20 knots and a lot of rain. However, that gave way to a spectacular sunset and with only 5 minutes to go to “boaters midnight” all is quiet.

 

44 09.184 N, 68 36.715 W

If you think we go on a lot about lobster pots you are right! They are a f...ing nightmare! This shot was taken with a long lens from our anchorage and shows the water we came through in the fog in the final section of our journey this morning

We arrived back on Cotinga just before the storm hit

Looking west up the anchorage towards "Hell's Half Acre" (closest island in the middle) during the thunderstorm

The same view up the "Hell's Half Acre anchorage" (as a panorama) after the storm passed and with a beautiful sunset

"Hell's Half Acre Anchorage" at sunset (wide angle panorama)

Looking east from "Hell's Half Acre anchorage" at sunset

Revisiting the site of an epic night

Revisiting the site of an epic night

24 Aug 2020

 

In February 2002 Gloria, Tasha and I moved over to the USA on a 2-year international assignment with AstraZeneca. We ended up bringing “Dreamcatcher”, our 16-foot Wayfarer sailboat, with us, mostly because my parents weren’t prepared to have it sit on their driveway for 2 years! It was shipped across the Atlantic on a car transporter and Rod and I drove down to New Jersey to pick it up from an enormous storage yard. (As I recall we drove into the yard, located the boat, hooked up the trailer to Rod’s van and left, without having to show anyone any paperwork!). In the years that followed, inspired by an article we read about the Maine Island Trail, Gloria and I sailed the entire coast of Maine. We did this in five sections, each about a week in duration, but we didn’t sequence the various sections in geographical order. Consequently, our very first day on the water happened to be sailing from Rockport to Little Hen Island on the east side of Vinalhaven. We are now anchored about 100 yards away from where we spent that first night … and as you will see, it did turn into an epic!

 

Liz helped us launch “Dreamcatcher” in Rockport and looked after the boat trailer and Tasha (who was about 11 at the time) for the following week. The sail eastwards across Penobscot Bay was a little too exciting in a 16-foot day-sailer with fairly strong winds and considerable swell from the north. But we made it to Vinalhaven and proceeded through Fox Island Thoroughfare, where we practiced man-overboard drill when one of us dropped the pee bucket overboard! Eventually we pulled into to what we thought was Little Hen Island, tied off the boat to the rocks and set up our small anchor on a sand bar that was nearly dry at low tide. After cooking a meal on land we put up our boat-tent and settled on board for the night. Shortly after dark a cold-front came through with strong north-westerly winds. The line tying our boat to the rocks floated off as the tide (10ft) rose and then our anchor dragged. We were swept back past a small island and I was forced to go into the water to keep the boat off the rocks. We finally managed to secure some additional lines to this island and “Dreamcatcher” dried out on a shelf of rock as the tide retreated. The rest of the night went OK! In the morning we took our wet gear onto the island to dry and a very thoughtful South African couple arrived in a dinghy to see if all was well and to take us back to their catamaran for coffee. It was a tremendous act of kindness as both Gloria and I were severely rattled by the experience. Once we got everything squared away we continued on our journey, sailing over to Isle au Haut as our next stop. We were young then (relatively speaking!) and inexperienced / careless (by any standard!). It wasn’t an auspicious start to that particular cruising adventure, but we did go on and complete the project and had a great time and learned a lot in the process. It turns out it can be quite helpful to check the marine weather forecast carefully! It’s also interesting to note that when we got picked up in Lubec at the end of the most northerly section of our journey, it was Tasha (by then aged 17) who drove the van and the trailer.

 

Sailing a large boat in some ways is easier. We had no engine on “Dreamcatcher”, just the sails and oars and we wore wet suits to mitigate the risk of capsizing in cold water. It was at times quite scary. On the other hand, if we ran over a lobster pot in old boat it would trip the rudder causing it to float up and we would simply have to lean over and push it back down to reset it.

 

Today we sailed a very similar route in “Cotinga”, except we started a few miles further south in Rockland. The days started foggy with a forecast for light and variable winds, but in fact we had a great sail across Penobscot Bay. It is incredibly beautiful in the anchorage and we have a 55 lb Rocna anchor and 80 feet of 3/8 inch chain the water, (which weighs an additional 130 lb), so hopefully that will keep us in one place! As a postscript I should tell you that we went exploring in the dinghy and found the exact site of this epic night … we also found Little Hen Island and the Maine Island Trail campsite. It turns out after 17 years we just discovered we weren’t ever where we thought we were!

 

Mike

 

44 05.826 N, 68 48.063 W

Banks of fog roll into Rockland Harbor in the morning

Sucked in by fog in Rockland Harbor

The scene of our epic night back in 2003 looks so peaceful now! *1 is where we tied up "Dreamcatcher", *2 is where we ended up, resting on a sandy shelf (thankfully) and tied up to the island. The photo is taken from Little Hen Island, where the Maine Island Trail campsite is located and where we thought we were! We have a vague recollection of not seeing the campsite.

An old photo (~2008) of Dreamcatcher in the Spurwink river, south Maine, which lets you see what the boat tent looked like.

Thirty minute walk not bad?

Thirty minute walk not bad?

Sunday August 23^rd, 2020

 

The task for the day was grocery shopping.  We tied the dinghy up at the town landing and set off on foot for the Hannaford’s.  In half an hour, we were there.  Our shopping list did seem quite extensive, but we managed to find everything we wanted.  Perhaps that wasn’t the good news.  Mike was loaded down with a very large bag on his back and a box of beers in one hand and a bag of shopping in the other.  I had a backpack full of stuff.  That easy-peasy, thirty minute walk did seem like a real workout on the way back.  Imagine what Mike thought.

 

In various trips to the dock and back we have also transported 20 gallons of water but the tank is still not full.  In the five days since we filled up, we’ve used quite a bit of fresh water.  I’d like to say it was too much showering but I’d be lying.

 

We are starting to think about where next on our Maine cruise.  It seems most likely that we will go a little further “down east”, always keeping an eye on the wind and weather.

 

Gloria

 

p.s We are very excited to announce our new crowd-sourcing project. Over the past couple of weeks we have seen numerous boats that would be a significant upgrade over “Cotinga” but sadly are beyond our wealth. Inspired by recent newsworthy events we have come up with an ingenious and fool-proof plan. We are going to establish the “Bridge to Greenland” crowd-sourcing project, where every cent that is donated (apart from a million dollars for our new boat) will be thrown into the ocean as foundations for a bridge to Greenland. As one orange haired imbecile remarked about Puerto Rico … “who knew transport to an island could be so difficult” and this really might persuade Denmark to sell Greenland to the USA. We are as yet unsure whether we will buy a bigger sailboat or a powerboat, but either way we plan to name it “Bannon’s Folly” in honor of the man who inspired this plan. What could possibly go wrong?

 

Mike

 

 

44 05.634 N, 69 05.826 W

Super-yacht, Rockland Harbor - lit up at night (~ 30 second exposure with tripod on our boat)

Ditto

Housekeeping

 Housekeeping

 

22 August 2020

 

Today we motored back from Pulpit Harbor, North Haven, to Rockland so that Rod could catch a ride back to Rhode Island. It’s been great having him cruise with us the past week. Being here gives us a chance to catch up on some “housekeeping”, so we were able to take our trash to shore, fill up a couple of jerry cans of fresh water and this afternoon we also managed to do our laundry at the local Laundromat. We have planned a rough menu for the next week or so, and tomorrow we will hike over to the local supermarket and stock up on provisions. These are jobs that are part of our normal life on land, they just take a bit longer on the boat because they involve dinghy rides to shore and walking to wherever we need to go.

 

I’ve been thinking quite a bit about how different cruising is during the Covid-19 pandemic. One of the aspects that we have really enjoyed in the past is meeting other boaters, chatting with them and sometimes getting together for a drink and to share stories. That isn’t happening now. We do see plenty of other cruisers but our interactions are very limited. It seems a shame, but in the overall scheme of things it’s a minor inconvenience to us. We have been quite impressed with how seriously the people of Maine are taking the virus. Almost everybody seems to be wearing masks in the shops or where it is difficult to maintain distance and we have seen a number of signs asking people from “out of state” who have not yet completed quarantine not to enter the building (such as the North Haven post office). It appears that one of the casualties of the social distancing is the charter sailing business out of Rockland. We saw that several of the old wooden schooners that would normally take customers on multi-day cruises on the coast of Maine are still covered in their winter shrink-wrap and won’t be opening for business this year. However, there are some restaurants open here in Rockland. We aren’t yet comfortable with the idea of eating inside a restaurant, but we were very excited to find a wood-fired barbecue shack with outdoor seating. So, before Rod departed, we all enjoyed a fabulous pulled pork sandwich!

 

Tonight we are anchored on the south end of Rockland harbor (which is huge). It’s really calm at the moment with just the occasional roll from the wake of a passing ship and we plan to have a quiet, lazy evening and see if we can stream a Netflix movie through our cell-phone hot spot!

 

Mike

 

44 05.634 N, 69 05.826 W

Rod and Gloria on a picnic bench on the Rockland Harbor walk ... cool mural! (iPhone photo)

A friendly guy who was working on his old wooden sailboat. He bought it about a year ago, but it only recently came out of shrink-wrap and apparently needs a lot of work. (iphone photo)

The "J & E Riggin" Schooner in the background,  shrink-wrapped (iphone photo)

Looking inside the "J & E Riggin" Schooner (iphone photo)

Harbor Antics

 Harbor Antics

August 21^st 2020

 

One of the great things about spending time in a harbor is that you get to watch all the activity.  Boats arrive and depart.  You can watch other boaters take their dinghy to shore with or without a dog.  As we were enjoying our pre-dinner rest in the cockpit, the very large sailboat that had been in the harbor earlier returned to it’s mooring.  They motored right past our stern to pick up the mooring pennant.  We speculated that the driver was the owner and the guy fishing for the lines was “crew”.  The boat is called “Angel” with a home-port of Georgetown. It flies a flag we can’t identify with a union jack in one corner.  Too bad there are so many “Georgetowns”...

 

Tonight’s observations included several re-anchorings.  The first was a boat to our port side whose owner was confronted by a man in a kayak.  The paddler complained that the sailboat was anchored “too close” to his moored day-sailer.  The opinion on our vessel was that the sailboat was in a perfectly acceptable position.  Those people were much nicer than we are; they moved their boat to a new location.  Somewhat later as a thunderstorm approached a cruising boat made a series of attempts to re-locate.  We wondered what was going on there....

 

In addition to the actual activity, we found that this harbor (Pulpit harbor on North Haven) has a strange current pattern that leads to the boats lying perpendicular to the wind and sailing around the anchor in many different ways.  At some points we were quite concerned that we were too close to the boat on our starboard side.  Suddenly it seemed to “set sail” and crossed our anchor chain to lie in an entirely different spot.  Did I mention that the owner of this boat took a shower in the cockpit? I had to avert my eyes. There’s always something happening.  Eventually, though, it gets too dark to spy on your neighbors!

 

Gloria

 

44 09.225 N, 68 53.054 W

After motoring back to Pulpit Harbor, North Haven, we took a five mile round trip hike to the town overlooking Fox Island Thoroughfare

I really like abstract photography ... this shot of rudder/propeller/rope guard on the underside of a ship

Prow of a lobster boat

The cockpit of Cotinga just as the first drops of rain start to fall (Pulpit Harbor, North Haven)

"Castine" your fate to the wind

 "Castine" your fate to the wind

20 August 2020

(note from Mike … anyone who is willing to write a blog is welcome on this boat … a person who is willing to write two blogs in a row is going to get royal treatment !)

 

Today, we set out from 700 acre Island Harbor headed for Castine, ME. This was at my request.  A few years ago, I read a book called "The Fort" written by Bernard Cornwell.  It is about a 1789 attempt by Massachusetts to prevent the British from finishing construction of a fort to control the town and river of Majabigwaduce, then the name of Castine.  At the time, Maine was an eastern province of Massachusetts.  Involved in this expedition was Paul Revere, in command of the artillery as well as the sloop "Providence" (known well to us Rhode Islanders).  The sloop was lost in this expedition as well as Paul Revere's military career. Obviously, the expedition was a disaster.

Having read this book and knowing that we weren't far away led me to request a visit to the remains of the fort, which came with a bit of a price. The first price was light and fickle winds as we tacked our way slowly up the eastern side of Islesboro Island.  Frequent “headers” and “lifts” (changes in wind direction / intensity) kept us tacking frequently and gave Mike a bit of a workout though the light winds moderated the effort required.  Patience finally brought us to the northern tip of Islesboro and we eased sheets and ... nothing.  The wind died away completely (it was coming from the NW) and after a few minutes of watching the sails hang limply, we looked at each other and said, "turn on the engine". Half an hour of motoring brought us to Holbrook Harbor off Ram Island.  This anchorage is a fair ways south of Castine, but the waters of the Bagaduce River, (formerly the Majabigwaduce river) are scoured by currents and don't have good holding.

 

After a lunch (and a nap by some of the crew), we piled into the dinghy and headed into Castine, which has the campus of the Maine Maritime Academy. Castine is a picturesque Maine town, built on the side of a hill.  A stiff walk uphill brought us to the fort (called George for number III).  The fort was something of a disappointment as all that remains are earthen dikes for walls, but the outlines formed by these "walls" is unmistakably a fort. Still, it was cool to walk a place where history was made and described in the book by Bernard Cornwell.  We walked the walls and then headed back downhill towards the harbor, stopping at a tiny general store where Mike replenished our beer supply, which was running dangerously low. Then it was time to dinghy back to Cotinga and we had to pay the second price for our trip to Castine.  While ashore, a southerly wind had filled in and created a bit of a chop. Truth be told, Gloria paid most of the price, getting dowsed with cold sea water when we hit a particularly nasty bit of chop.  Making matters worse, we had to take a longer route back as the 10-foot tide had exposed a sand bar that we crossed easily on our way 2 hours earlier. Nevertheless, we arrived back on Cotinga where Mike began preparing a risotto of his own creation (delicious, btw) and we got to watch a subtle yet beautiful sunset.  

 

By the time we finished dinner, Boater's Midnight had arrived and I am nodding, even as I write this. I will end this entry here, before my eyes close for the night.

 

Rod

 

44 22.148 N, 68 48.065 W

Front end of a cool Cadillac in Castine

Fine wheel on a cool Cadillac, Castine

Sunset in Holbrook Harbor, Castine

Sunset in Holbrook Harbor, Castine

Rockland Redux

Rockland Redux

19 August 2020

After a lovely night in Pulpit Harbor, we awoke to the day for my sister Liz to return to the workaday world.  This is Rod writing this, so I should add that Liz is Gloria's sister, too.  

Despite taking the mainsail cover off, the hoped for wind never materialized and we had to motor the 6 miles or so to Rockland Harbor.  Close to the harbor we crossed paths with a Mega Yacht called "Kismet".  I was able to look it up on line & found out it is for sale, for the modest sum of $200,000,000!  OR, you can charter it for only $1,000,000 per week!  It is owned by Shahid Kahn, who Mike remembered owns the Jacksonville Jaguars, an NFL football team.

 

Docking at the Landing Marina was handled professionally by Mike, aided by a total lack of wind.  While I walked Liz back to her car, Gloria and Mike completed the somewhat more mundane tasks of taking on fuel, water and some ice.  Saying goodbye to Liz with sadness, I did learn that she had a great time.  It was really fantastic to get to spend that much time with her.

On the way back to Cotinga, I stopped off at a bakery on Main St (Rockland appears to be getting a bit upscale) and bought some rolls, bread and some sandwiches for lunch.  We MUST keep the Captain fed!!

Poor, Liz.  The next leg, to Cradle Cove, near 700 Acre Island was fantastic and she had to miss it.  After leaving the gas dock, we hoisted the mainsail, unrolled the jib and headed off on a beam reach for about 12 nautical miles.  Sun, smooth seas, wind about 12 knots, building to 16 knots has us bowling along at up to 7.4 knots.  An added benefit: relatively few lobster pot buoys along our track.  Everyone steered the boat; I think Gloria enjoyed her trick at the wheel, too.  (Mike made a comment about the profusion of lobster pot buoys in some areas: "it looks like someone sneezed lobster pot buoys").  In some areas, the buoys are so dense, it is a real challenge to find a path through them.  

Arriving off 700 Acre Island, we furled the jib by blanketing it behind the mainsail and finished the last mile under mainsail.  Arriving at a nearly deserted harbor, Mike, on the helm, rounded Cotinga up into the wind and we dropped the main and anchored simultaneously.  Brilliantly done, but there was no audience to applaud our performance.  

At last, cocktails in the cockpit.  The anchor salute today was the classic Dark & Stormy (Gloria passed on the cocktail, opting for a "fizzy lime water").  Sipping our drinks, we watched storm clouds approach and, amazingly, two Bald Eagles.  Unfortunately, neither approached close enough to get a decent photograph.  The storm did though and I hope Mike posts some photos he took of the truly awesome dark clouds.

Rain drove us below, where Mike cooked us a delicious dinner of pan fried pork chops with pesto coated pasta with green beans and a lovely Dogfish Head 90 minute IPA.  

Some Port & biscotti and the day is complete.  Tomorrow: Castine.  

Goodnight.

 

44 15.721 N, 68 56.365 W

Pulpit Harbor entrance as we departed about 9am

A yawl anchored in Cradle Cove, Penobscot Bay. We saw bald eagles flying from the trees on the left, scrapping with osprey. We suspect the bald eagles are nesting.

The weather turned decidedly dodgy shortly after we arrived in the anchorage. Fortunately it looked much worse than it actually was. We got some fairly heavy rain and winds to just over 20 knots, but it was pretty short lived.

Cotinga with the storm clouds behind

The same yawl as photographed previously, as the last of the rain comes through.

I think this is a deer fly. It landed on our boat and is resting here on a nylon sail-bag