Month: July 2021 (Page 1 of 2)

I didn’t have a huge desire to visit the islands south of Stonington. They have a reputation as one of the most beautiful spots in Maine, but they’re hugely popular (ie. lots of boat traffic). They also have a reputation for lobstermen with bad attitudes. I’m used to the sound of engines and some roll at 4 am every morning as they begin their work days, however, there are stories of locals purposely running large wakes and harassing pleasure craft that didn’t make the place seem too inviting. But, too many people talked about it and one couple specifically gave us anchorages to try so we were on our way.

Hell’s Half Acre is the name of one of the three islands that create the Hell’s Half Acre anchorage. There were only three other boats in the anchorage and one left as we were arriving. The rock ledges can be intimidating as they appear at low tide, and it’s amazing to see the sand bars that appear that connect the islands. There were kayak campers on the island, and the island is not big, so we settled for a circumnavigation tour by dinghy rather than going ashore since our walk would have been completed in 20 minutes. Still, a fun and beautiful place to visit.

It was time to head west again. The weather looked favorable enough and we decided to head out. After several hours of motoring, we were able to set sail again and had a fabulous run down to Mackerel Cove on the north side of Swans Island.

There were a dozen boats anchored on either side of the cove, but snotty weather was setting in, so there wasn’t any company. We sat down below in the rain and the wind and caught up on reading and cleaning up the interior.

The fog was the heaviest we’ve seen it yet the next morning (could barely see in front of the bow), but we were patient and it finally started to lift. We got the bikes out and headed in to the dinghy dock.

Our first stop was the lobster museum, which was small but had a comprehensive collection of relics from the lobster industry, Swans Island history, as well as flora and fauna from the island. Then it was a hilly but really nice ride across island to the local market. We had a slice of pizza and some fish chowder for lunch, then it was back across the island and back to the boat.

With the Canadian border still closed, we decided not to pursue Nova Scotia this summer. The border is supposed to open to vaccinated Americans starting August 9, but no one really wants to be the first ones testing customs protocols and getting stuck somewhere with weather windows closing. That said, we still wanted to head down east. Roque Island was our goal, just 30 miles from the border.

The fog finally started lifting at Mistake in the afternoon and we decided to make a break for Roque. The harbor is an archipelago that could easily fit 500 boats at anchor, but there was only s/v Timothy Lee when we arrived. We picked a spot a polite distance away and dropped the hook and savored the island nearly all to ourselves.

Roque is one of the only places in Maine to offer fine sand beaches (rock is much more common). If it weren’t for the pine trees in the background I would have thought we were in the Caribbean. Ok maybe not the Caribbean, as the water was in the low 50’s, but it was stunning nonetheless.

The island is privately owned and visitors are not allowed further inland than the beach, but the beach is over a mile wide and makes for a great stretch of the legs.

Plover soon arrived and Golden Eye sailed in as well. Everyone dinghied back and forth between boats visiting throughout the day and into cocktail hour. What were the odds of being in this remote anchorage and already knowing all the boats?

Despite the appearance of the sun finally, we also had some weather blow through. Luckily we didn’t see more than a few bolts of lightning and got a little bit of rain. Better than the fog we’ve been working with lately.

Mistake Island Harbor did not look on the charts like the kind of place we’d normally anchor. It’s a cluster of rock outcroppings, several of which are completely submerged at high tide, narrowly enclosed by Mistake, Knight, Green & Water Islands. However, it’s just enough protection to sit at anchor and look out over the open Atlantic, which is really remarkable. A cozy spot.

There were only three other boats at anchor and I’m not sure there was room for much more. Trip rowed over to say hi to Plover (thanks to Chris for that shot of us opening this post) and to introduce ourselves to Timothy Lee, a Baba 35 (also designed by Bob Perry). Thunder drove him back to Kalyra and we retired for the night.

We woke in the morning to a lobster float bouncing off the side of our hull. We had swung with the winds overnight and were now sitting closer to a lobster pot. This is not usually a big deal as the shape of our hull makes it unlikely to hook a pot.

However, we didn’t want to impede any lobsterman out working in the foggy cold weather. We heard an engine getting closer and came out into the cockpit just in time to fend off a lobster boat and help him fend off while he retrieved his pot from under our chain. He and his partner were super friendly despite us sitting on their gear and they were gone in just a couple of minutes.

The fog was starting to lift so we headed over in the dinghy to the island with the lighthouse. Unfortunately it was dead low tide and half the ramp was covered in seaweed. I’m not ashamed to say I climbed up the ramp on my hands and knees to avoid slipping into the frigid water.

Someone built a boardwalk on the island which makes for a lovely trail out to the lighthouse. We even got to sample the wild blueberries and raspberries that are now in season. Then it was back to the boat, and off to find Roque Island.

The fog finally lifted, but the forecasted wind hadn’t shown up yet. We motored out of Port Clyde and gamely hoisted the mainsail. A couple of hours later the wind showed up so we were able to set sail, but the thick fog showed up too. There’s something really eery about speeding along at 8 knots (topped 10 at one point) peering out for signs of other boats. Our radar worked well for the most part, allowing us to see boats that were close by. And we were far enough off shore to know that we wouldn’t see much traffic in these conditions anyway. The winds got high enough to put in a couple of reefs, but every time we reefed we never slowed down, the boat was performing so well.

We made great time and got into Little Cranberry Island late afternoon. We managed to find a guest mooring courtesy of the town, and suddenly the fog lifted and the sun came out. Little Cranberry has the reputation as being ‘the’ spot to watch the sun set over Acadia and it did not disappoint.

Little Cranberry is a charming little oasis just a couple of miles from the congestion of Acadia. It’s home to a small lobster fleet with their own coop right at the docks. There’s a small museum about Islesford (the town) that has displays on the history of the island and that features a short film about the local lobster industry. After watching the video and later walking through town I think we saw nearly every one of the lobster captains from the film mowing their lawns, weed whacking, looking after their kids, and doing every other mundane activity that happens in every town.

There’s only one restaurant on the island and they have such a good reputation that you need to make reservations. We watched a sailboat come screaming in, drop an anchor almost in the ferry channel, turn on their navigation lights, and jump in a small boat to rush to shore (I’m guessing to make their dinner reservation). The only other place we see behavior like this is Block Island, I thought it was unheard of in Maine. We soon saw other boats stream in from Southwest and Northeast Harbors, a few getting turned away because there wasn’t room at the dock. We had opted for a late lunch that day to avoid the dinner craziness. The food and the service were great and we had a fun time chatting with some locals and a visitor alike.

This picture sums it all up – fog.

We left in fog, creeping out of the cove into the Sheepscot River. We motored in fog, passing only working lobster boats (one named the Miss Nicole which my class would appreciate I’m sure).

Things cleared up a little bit out in Muscongus Bay, and getting to see minke whales, dolphins, and seals all made up for the lack of wind. We were even able to get close enough to Eastern Egg Rock Island to see all the juvenile puffins (it’s an Audubon Society Preserve).

We dropped anchor in Port Clyde north of Hupper Island and then – big shock – the fog slammed down again. Following our electronic charts closely on the iPad, we dinghied into shore to visit one of our favorite watering holes – the Barn Bar. What a disappoint. Packed with waspy older white people (yes, I know we qualify), we sat at the bar for a drink but we’re greatly disappointed. The once charming bar just seemed like any other tourist attraction. We picked up a few provisions and headed back to the boat instead.

Initial round of socializing complete, it was time to start heading east. We had seen several sailing friends head into Love Cove earlier, so we decided to check it out. Located on the north side of Southport, the Winslow family (of Winslow tugboat fame) has placed two moorings in the cove for guest use. Their only request is a note or poem in return (a Mt Olive pickle jar is attached to the pickup float for the notes). Very welcoming.

The cove was so charming (and the fog rolled in) that we decided to spend two nights. We dinghied over to the Hodgdon boat yard to get fuel, water, and ice (fridge still broken), and to use their dinghy dock. We stretched our legs and walked up to the Southport General Store. We had actually been here two years earlier, but that time we were anchored in Five Islands and had sailed the dinghy over to Cozy Harbor on the southern side of Southport.

On our way to Portland we saw strings of orange floats. They were easy enough to avoid, but we didn’t know what they were. Turns out there are mussel farms in Casco Bay. I’m looking forward to local mussels the next time we eat out!

It’s been a social start to the Maine season!

We got to see Lawrence and Viviane right away in Harpswell, and then backtracked a bit to Portland. We left the boat on a mooring and went off to stay with James and Jennie. As fellow sailors they were extremely gracious in letting us do laundry, run errands, and re-provision during our quick stay.

Then it was east again back to Harpswell, this time for lunch with friends Caroline and Bob Knott at Dolphin Marina (one of my all time favorite marinas & restaurants in Maine).

Now it’s time to move east!

At school this year my class planted dun pea and buckwheat sprouts. Quick-growing (plants in 5 days), the kids could observe roots and shoots growing on a daily basis.

Even after sharing seeds with the other classrooms, there were plenty leftover, courtesy of our neighbor Joanne. The rest got moved to the boat along with a little bit of potting soil. I now plant them once a week and soon enough we have micro-greens for salads, sandwiches, etc.