A Barrel of Salt Pork

Learning to sail on Eggemoggin Reach

Camden was close, the weather had broken, and amazingly the wind in our favour, so we decided to take the scenic route via Fox Islands Thorofare.  This convenient and scenic east-west 8 mile passage across lower Penobscot Bay made us feel we were really “doing Maine”.  Anchorages abound, bays are not all filled to overflowing with (expensive) mooring balls, seals search for their dinner, so it is still possible to experience remote Maine as it may have been 100 years ago.  Except for the lobster pots!

Outer Harbor Camden

Windjammers however, were in our sights.  Camden’s well protected inner harbour was packed with ‘em, by crikey….  Camden has done itself proud.  The harbour, though compact, has been well planned and great care taken to be transient sailor friendly.  The place was head to toe with windjammers and day trippers; the little village catering to every need, including a nice little greengrocer.  Supplies, and access to them, are important when you need to restock regularly.  (We can only keep 3 to 4 days of fresh goods at a time.)  The Cap’n found a good bookshop to resupply his dwindling stock of Mark Twain books and GS was able to pick up Kaffe Fassett’s latest really, really cheaply (compared to aussie prices anyway).  Other than that, Camden is just steeped in nautical history.

Camden's Inner Harbor bursting with Windjammers

Down on the harbour, our Cap’n took a tour over Schooner Lewis R. French, a 65 footer launched in 1871 and currently Maine’s oldest.  She’s taking just 21 passengers for multi-night cruises of the Maine coast.  Sounds romantic and so it is; windjammers look just stunning out on the water under full sail.  Mind you, we discovered that “windjammer” was a disparaging term once used by steamship seamen to describe a sailing fleet then considered old-fashioned.  We didn’t dare tell WJ3 – no ruffled feathers on our little (fibreglass) gal thanks!

Land of Wooden Boats

Finally, it was time to move on – the Cap’n was getting fidgety; this was the start of our “coming home” leg.  Well, it’s back to Deltaville.  So we filled WJ3’s sails and threaded our way through a filigree necklace of lobster pots, over a shallow Bar Harbor bar and out into Blue Hill Bay, carved by glaciers some 13,000 years ago.  Open ocean sailing had been replaced by bay cruising, negotiating hundreds of islands, some little bigger than the houses that rest on them.  Passages between, some navigable, some not, are riddled with rocks, ledges and worse, lobster pots.  The Motleys had to concentrate.

Now this is island living...

Pond Island Passage led us through to Jericho Bay and the start of Eggemoggin Reach.  This fabulous stretch of water is home to Wooden Boat School and if you’re into traditional sailing, this is the place to be.  We sailed past head-turning schooners in full sail, noting that they needed a few more (active) crew aboard than WJ3.  We dodged simple gaff-rigs, tanbark sails, acres of (pristine) varnish work and forests of wood in all shapes and sizes out for an afternoon’s fun and fresh air.  We looked forward to playing with famous windjammers in Camden. 

Historical Castine

Bucks Harbor, at the end of Eggemoggin Reach had been our planned destination, but as is often the way, the weather had turned against us and we sought better protection off Castine, up the Bagaduce River, in Smith Cove.  Castine is a heritage listed town having been occupied since early 1600’s by French, Dutch, British, Colonial America and now summer tourists (locally called rusticators) of all persuasions.  Its strategic location and convenient source of raw materials (timber) made it once a busy ship building port.  Even salt was sourced here to supply Grand Banks fishing fleets.  With British built Fort George (1799) and connections to Paul Revere (Revolutionary War) it is easy to imagine soldiers marching about town, sailors checking rope works, sea shanties wafting over the docks and washing flapping behind pretty cottages.  Today, the people on the streets are more likely to be students from the Maine Maritime Academy.  We followed some of them to their favourite Friday night drinking hole at Dennett’s Wharf then enjoyed, over a few local pints, a large serving of cod and chips...

From: Northeast Harbor, ME  Lat/Long: 44 17N  68 16W  Date/Time: 10/9/10: 0900
To: Castine, ME  Lat/Long: 44 27N  68 46W  Date/Time: 10/9/10: 1530
Time Taken: 46nm (6.5hrs)  Distance (this year): 871nm (164hrs)
Distance Total (since 2008): 4511nm (863hrs)   Fastest Speed: See Note**
Weather: Winds SW 5-15kts G20kts; Seas 2ft; overcast; blustery thru Eggemoggin Reach; freezing!
(** Mostly motor sailed; dodging lobster pots & wind jammin’ schooners)

Land of Wooden Boats for sure

Maine Event

We had chosen Mt Desert to leap into our Maine cruising schedule.  The area is considered “quintessential” Maine.  Acadia National Park covers much of the island and elsewhere, stately homes owned by the likes of Martha Stewart, sit in stands of pines along rocky granite bays - inspiration to wordsmiths, artists and even left-brainers.

Acadia National Park, Mt Desert Island

Mt Desert’s wild beauty has always attracted the wealthy; the Astors, Fords, Carnegies, Rockefellers and Vanderbilts were among those who retreated to their summer “cottages” to partake of Maine’s cool air, pristine hiking trails and chilly waters.  Mt Desert’s first recorded sighting by Europeans was as early as 1524 and Samuel de Champlain formally named the island in 1604; it was part of “New France”.  The island’s interests were then held by the French for many years until after the Revolutionary War.  Preservation came much later but under the leadership of George B Dorr who, inspired by Mt Desert’s rugged beauty, encouraged land and financial donations to preserve it.  In 1916, 6000 acres became a designated national park.  Artists, naturalists, campers and rusticators (summer people) made the island a fashionable retreat until a devastating fire in 1947 consumed many homes and much of the woodlands.  The park, long since recovered, has some 35,000 acres to explore, including smaller islands off the coast.  Cars can traverse some of the roads and byways, but it’s much better to take a horse & carriage or ride the LL Bean eco-buses (gas powered).

Bar Harbor

The Motleys had already covered one of Mt Desert’s famed harbours, Southwest, and now sailed Somes Sound in search of shelter.  After Earl’s terrible tantrum, we spent a few pleasant days – true gunkholing – watching bald eagles fly, kayakers paddle about nooks & crannies, gorgeous sunsets and people swim (including our Cap’n but he is a Victorian) in the oh, so clean waters.  Then it was on to Northeast Harbor to pick up a mooring ball.  This harbour too was pretty; we were tempted to stay a few days.  The village and its conveniences were only a step away, including a fabulous library (with free wifi & a fireplace) and an island explorer bus stop.

We stepped aboard to take the scenic loop road – 27 miles past Sand Beach, Thunder Hole, Jordan & Bubble Ponds and Cadillac Mountain.  We didn’t hike on account of GS’s still recovering ankle but the drive was nice.  Bar Harbor retains its quaint village atmosphere despite the influx of tourists (millions), including glamorous passenger ships nearly every other day in season.  You could tell the difference between cruisers and cruisers.  We had that windswept, clothes more than 3 days old, unshaved look…  GS poked around in touristy shops and even found a quilt shop to buy a few Maine themed prints – moose, bears, eagles, pinecones etc.  There’s a zoo close by with the real thing (moose, bears etc) in Trenton across from Mt Desert, but we had come to our “turnaround” time.

Northeast Harbor

One of the joys of sailing is catching up, often unexpectedly, with friends you meet along the way.  “Cricket” (home to Pam, Ben & lovely Lila) had also spent some time in Deltaville Boatyard.  They set sail a little earlier in the season, so it was fun to catch up and compare ports of call and sights seen.  They were on their way to Rockport to have some electrical work done before heading back down to the Chesapeake – maybe.  See you on the water!

From: Somes Harbor, ME  Lat/Long: 44 21N  68 19W  Date/Time: 6/9/10: 1130
To: Northeast Harbor, ME  Lat/Long: 44 17N  68 16W  Date/Time: 6/9/10: 1330
Time Taken: 7nm (2hrs)  Distance (this year): 825nm (157.5hrs)
Distance Total (since 2008): 4465nm (856.5hrs)   Fastest Speed: See Note**
Weather: Winds SW 10-15kts G20kts; Seas 1-3ft; a bit of a slop on the Sound
(** Motored back down Somes Sound (into the sun) dodging lobster pots!)

Waiting for Earl

There was no wind; the calm was eerie.  All craft were nosing south expectantly.  To our front, the largest sailboat in the anchorage had both masts up-lit and looked like some medieval warhorse.  A dense New England fog settled into the small harbour just on dusk and a few boat owners fidgeted with last-minute mooring or anchor line adjustments.  It seemed like, and was indeed, the calm before battle.  An advance party of strong winds, gusting 45 to 60kts was expected at midnight. We were waiting for Earl... 

Somes Harbor

We had been following, as best we could, reports on Earl as he whirled his way up the east coast.  The Cap’n had pinpointed the destructive eye on our charts and had spent almost two days preparing for the worst.  Earl was forecast to hit Cape Cod and then move down east (NE) to the Maine coast.  That’s exactly where we were.  Isn’t it odd that we’ve been dodging hurricanes for 2 seasons in the Caribbean now and finally, when we pop out of that acknowledged hurricane box*, one comes to find us.  Aagggghh!

We had arrived in Southwest Harbour, Mt Desert Island in Maine and the news of Earl’s progress stunned us.  Our friendly Harbourmaster advised us to seek better shelter, in Northeast Harbor if we could.  But all moorings were taken. (It was Labor Day weekend after all.)  Kindly, Dickie Beal (of Beal’s Lobsters) recommended, when we re-fuelled and re-watered at his lobster dock, staging ourselves up Somes Sound in better protected (& muddy bottomed) Somes Harbor.  Off we went, then and there.  Lucky because we were in and set (on two tandem anchors and 200 feet of chain) before stragglers and late-comers tried to snuggle into this tiny protected harbor. 

Same view (as above) with fog as Earl approached

The Cap’n went off to get a few supplies and an internet connection.  Bad luck, Somesville is little more than a few pretty cottages.  He then set about taking down sails and clearing the decks, taking the motor off Bruce and other measures to “hurricane-proof” as best we could.  At worst, Earl’s eye was currently reading 90kts, gusting 110kts (say that slowly) and at best, we could look forward to 60kt gusts.  Thank goodness for Skymate.  We were able to download regular (12hr) NOAA weather reports for this specific area and data on Earl’s progress.  To add to the drama, GS had twisted her ankle at the fuel dock and was now incapacitated.  Surely her bad temper was enough to scare Earl away?  The Cap’n wanted to leave home too – except he’d probably either starve or face a diet of 2 minute noodles & canned corned beef.  Facing Earl seemed a far brighter proposition…

Cold Water Swim

Our after-dinner weather update brought us better news – well, sort of.  Earl was slowly running out of puff and our Tropical Storm Warning, though still in effect, had forecast winds 40 – 45kts.  Thankfully too, our hurricane hole proved perfect.  Around midnight, winds tore over us; we could hear roaring as the wind rushed through high pine forests, sounding for all the world like a giant steam train.  Those marvellous mountains of Mt Desert Island directed the flow of winds over and above us.  Rain beat in but we stayed quite dry, only a couple of hatches leaked.  Bruce filled to the gunnels with fresh water – and our house-proud Cap’n is now using it to swab the decks, making WJ3 and Bruce shine.  We’re grateful Earl amounted to little more than a storm in our locale but both agreed preparations were well worth the effort.

* The hurricane box is reputed, for insurance purposes, to be below Grenada (since Ivan 2004) at 12N and above 35N (Cape Hatteras & Cape Lookout, NC).   Deltaville VA where we stored WJ3 is at 37N.  Maine (where we are now) is 44N.  Since 1851, only 15 major hurricanes (about one every ten years) have leapt outside this box to damage areas above the North Carolina/Virginia border.  The last one was Alex in 2004.  It seems that record high temperatures and unseasonably warm waters beckoned storms further north this year.

From: Southwest Harbor, ME  Lat/Long: 44 16N  68 18W  Date/Time: 2/9/10: 1100

To: Somes Harbor, ME  Lat/Long: 44 21N  68 19W  Date/Time: 2/9/10: 1220

Time Taken: 6nm (1.5hrs)  Distance (this year): 818nm (155.5hrs)

Distance Total (since 2008): 4458nm  (854.5hrs)   Fastest Speed: See Note**

Weather: Winds SE 5-10kts; Seas 3ft; seas followed by a quick tropical storm to drench us

(** Motored up Somes Sound on a mission!)

Old Jonah He Lived in a Whale

Lighthouse, Cape Cod

Provincetown has whale watching tours reputed to be second best in the world (rated on chances of seeing whales).  Summer is also the time these great beasties mooch around Stellwagen Bank – their summer holiday residence.  GS wanted to take a tour.  Cap’n Blanched at $32 a head, especially when we already had a boat…. 

We left Provincetown early to make use of forecast W winds to push us as far down east as Penobscot Bay, Maine in an overnight trip.  Stopping each night is easy (and very achievable up and down the New England coast) but we’d get to Maine in time to turn around and scoot back to Deltaville.  The Cap’n said this way we’d also cross Stellwagen Bank, so GS had the binos ready.  As luck would have it, the Whale Watch tours passed us full steam ahead, and our headings were similar. 

Then it all happened.  In the distance, great spouts of water were blown high and huge tails rose and fell in slow motion.  As we neared the pod, one rolled on his side and repeatedly slapped the water with a big white fin.  The noise alone was scary enough.  The Whale Watch boats moved on following the pod (possibly 10 or more whales) as it breakfasted and played.  WJ3 continued on her course to Maine.  We saw a huge splash, maybe 500m away and watched as a whale breeched.  The show moved on, but not in our direction. 

Cape Cod to Bar Harbor dodging whales

We were still chatting about our good fortune an hour later when the Cap’n spied another spout in the distance.  We’d happened upon another pod.  Though not so lively as the last, lazy tails slapped water and spouts blew all round us - at a respectable distance.  Then suddenly one surfaced, no more than 20-30 metres on our port side.  This was indeed a close encounter.  He wasn’t interested in us (thankfully) and continued on with his breakfasting as we gaped, stared and said things like “oh, fruit”. 

Real Maine Lobsters

The rest of the trip wasn’t nearly so exciting even though a huge moon lit the slow roll of Atlantic swells making viewing easy.  But it was freezing!  Early next morning, closer to the Maine coast, we saw a couple of seals.  Their lovely whiskery faces and big eyes staring in surprise – as if we’d just caught them in the act of robbing from a vast field of lobster pots.  Who could blame them?  We celebrated our arrival in Maine.  In August (just).  We’d really made it.  Celebrations involved a secure mooring, local beer AND a huge lobster feast. ($US11 a pound…envious???)

From: Provincetown, MA  Lat/Long: 42 02N  70 11W  Date/Time: 30/8/10: 0845

To: Southwest Harbor, ME  Lat/Long: 44 16N  68 18W  Date/Time: 31/8/10: 1400

Time Taken: 170nm (29.5hrs)  Distance (this year): 812nm (154hrs)

Distance Total (since 2008): 4452nm  (853hrs)   Fastest Speed: See Note**

Weather: Winds W-NW 5-10kts; Seas 3-5ft; We didn’t notice the Friday tropical storm warning at the end of the report – doh!!

(** 10ft tides no less; abundant rock ledges makes anchoring interesting!)

Wild, Wild West

Actually, it really is the wild east but nobody could deny Provincetown’s umm, lively character.  Yet another artists’ colony high on Cape Cod’s outstretched arm, Provincetown attracts performance artists, show-offs and a gay old crowd to its hub-bub.  Described as colourful with quirky stores and vibrant nightlife, this village marks the Pilgrim’s first landfall in 1620.  Five weeks later, they boarded the Mayflower and set off to Plymouth for less hostile territory.  

Kalmar Nyckel at Dock in Provincetown

Now galleries brimming with high-end landscapes sit comfortably next to tattoo parlours. Restaurants blot out any coastal views along 3 miles of main road.  But who needs it when touts are dressed in costumes that would have the Village People salivating.  A nearby spa is spitting a steady stream of soap bubbles to fill any empty space.  Clothing shops, gift shops, ice-creameries and interesting leather goods stores line the other side of Commercial Street.  A young man in a tall red hat and short skirt (jolly nice legs) bicycles madly through town advertising an evening of theatre, a comedian tells us about her upcoming show, street musicians play everything from classical to hip hop.  A girl in bunny ears and a nice 50’s style summer frock sits in the gutter, sobbing.  She has lost (or made) $25 – I can’t quite make it out.  Her nice young man is comforting her.  He has on a similar frock. No ears, but a large white bunny tail is (badly) stitched to the back of his dress.  The old man nearby, in a tuxedo twisting balloons into animal shapes, hardly notices. 

Classic Beach Cottages

Provincetown is a place to see and be seen.  The Motleys took a trolley bus tour (40 mins) and we saw the village, beaches, cranberry bogs, lighthouses and the Pilgrim Monument, 252 feet of granite soaring above the coastline.  We had taken our bikes but peddling up Commercial Street into a surging current of humanity was impossible.  Besides we couldn’t take it all in.  The back streets are full of classified, classic cottages – Greek Revival, Gothic, Victorian and Old Cape Cod.  Some were built by whaling captains, while others were floated over to the village (yes, on barges).  Now they and their gardens are primped and preened within and inch of their lives.  It’s Martha Stewart gone Rococo.  Mind you, Provincetown has cred.  Writers, the likes of Tennessee Williams, Norman Mailer and Eugene O’Neill, and artists including Mark Rothko and Jackson Pollock found inspiration here.  Who could not with all those tanned, well oiled, sculptured torsos?  For those of you who enjoy Black Adder, Cape Cod will never mean the same again…

From: Woods Hole, MA  Lat/Long: 41 30N  70 42W  Date/Time: 29/8/10: 0715

To: Provincetown, MA  Lat/Long: 42 02N  70 11W  Date/Time: 29/8/10: 1400

Time Taken: 44nm (7hrs)  Distance (this year): 642nm (124.5hrs)

Distance Total (since 2008): 4282nm  (823.5hrs)   Fastest Speed: 10.8kts**

Weather: Winds NW 5-10kts; Seas 3-5ft; breezy Buzzards Bay & mirrored pond Cape Cod Bay

(** In the Cape Cod Canal, going with the current obviously!)

Cape Cod Legs

Actually Cape Cod is shaped a bit like a body-builder’s muscled-up arm.  But more on that later…

Block Island - the place to be seen

First stop after launching ourselves out of Greenport’s secure Stirling Harbor, was Block Island, a gateway if you will to the world famous Narragansett Bay.  Yes, that’s Newport, Rhode Island, folks…home to America’s Cup.  And yes, we probably have lost interest since those heady days in 1984 when we actually won it.  You wouldn’t recognise those “yachts” now, they look sculptural and sleek – perfectly at home on the lawn of some museum of contemporary art.  Or in Melbourne, on that nice new freeway to outatown.

Newport is a bit like Pitt Street on a bad day, so we hooked into Block Island – a cosy weekend retreat for Rhode Island locals (remember those Store Beach weekends).  We didn’t stay to explore the Island but did enjoy the evening’s VHF16 comedy with the rest of the anchorage.  Seems a light plane was buzzing boaters and people on the beach.  Reports were filtering into the Coasties of this dangerous behaviour.  Some local hoon was adding his own anonymous (perhaps serious) contribution to the mix of hysterics and hysteria… "load dat gun and shoot deh mother#$%&*$”.  I thought we’d left the red-necks behind in down home Virginnie.

Woods Hole Museum

Next stop was home to marine science geeks, Woods Hole.  The current that runs here has to be seen to be believed; so too are the speedy ferries.  We anchored well out of the action, but given a wind change, we moved deeper into Hadley Harbor and calmer waters.  Wise move.  Our bumpy dinghy ride into Woods Hole was like a jet boat “jumpabout” ride.  Still, we liked Woods Hole and explored its free aquarium, its university-style buildings, laboratories and grounds and met some wonderful folks who were justifiably proud of their museum.  They told us that Hyannis nearby was the first holiday home of the Kennedy clan.  Cape Cod, with surrounding islands, Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, had been (and continues to be) destination central for the seriously wealthy.

Whoosh Trolley

We jumped aboard the local whoosh trolley for a quick ride into Falmouth to restock our larder.  GS has seen an antiques market on the way in but decided not to stop.  Of course on the way out, she spied a stall of antique quilts and blocks.  STOP the bus….stop. the ….  too late!!  Oh Nooooooooooo!!   Never mind, a few beers watching the sun go down and listening to a band (free) strum, crooning tunes for university intellectuals…”she ‘ad skin like spinach an’ greens an’ her kiss like ham an’ beans” took her mind off it anyway.

Pie in the Sky (but not our local at Cowan)

From: Greenport, LI  Lat/Long: 40 57N  73 05W  Date/Time: 26/8/10: 0900
To: Woods Hole, MA   Lat/Long: 41 30N  70 42W  Date/Time: 27/8/10: 1350
Time Taken: 81nm (16.5hrs)  Distance (this year): 598nm (117.5hrs)
Distance Total (since 2008): 4238nm  (816.5hrs)   Fastest Speed: 6kts**
Weather: Winds W-NW 5-15kts G 20kts; Seas 2-4ft; clear
(** Sailing – doing 6kts; a good few days sailing; some motoring)