After a very foggy layover day we head out into Penobscot Bay
on our way to Belfast
in the northwest section of the Bay. It’s a beautiful day, and we’re on a
mission to get groceries and do laundry. Belfast
is a sufficiently large community that both are possible. The harbor shelters many attractive boats,
and we anchor just behind a natural wood sloop that is in perfect condition.
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| Harbor at Belfast with natural wood sloop |
After a steep hike up to the laundromat and an even steeper bike ride to the
grocery store, we spend the remainder of the day recuperating on the boat, a
mistake as we hear later from our new Australian friends that the evening’s
street fair was a delightful event with music and dancing in the streets.
The next day we motor a little further east to the town of Castine. Located on a northern section of Penobscott Bay, the entrance has a lighthouse on a
bluff to the west and several coves to the east.
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| Castine's lighthouse welcomes us |
We choose to anchor in Smith Cove and, upon
entering, see the British flagged yacht Blue
Guitar just ahead.
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| Could Eric be onboard?!? |
Digging deep into our memories of music from our youth,
we realize this is Eric Clapton’s yacht.
Or, at least, it was Eric Clapton’s yacht. A local informs us that it was sold recently,
but Eric anchored here frequently in the past. We hop into our dinghy to
explore this highly recommended area.
Castine is a bit less touristy than other towns we have visited. Its streets are lined with well maintained
Federal and Greek Revival style houses that were once the homes of prosperous
sea captains and boat builders. Attractive gardens wind between the buildings,
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| Beautiful Castine homes and gardens |
and historical markers abound reflecting the town’s past allegiance to four
different nations, Britain, France, the Netherlands,
and now the United States. We walk up to the remains of Fort George,
a significant site during the Revolutionary War where the US fleet suffered its worst defeat prior to Pearl Harbor.
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| Remains of the pre-revolutionary war fort at Castine |
We sit along the harbor front watching
boats coming and going on a beautiful, clear Maine day.
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| Restored Concordia yawl pulls up to the Castine dock - this boat has been across the Atlantic four times |
The next day we pay the price
with fog so dense you can’t see another boat anchored in the harbor.
Once the weather clears we take off down the Eggemoggin Reach
towards the Mount
Desert area. The Reach is a narrow passage between islands
that requires close attention to the charts and to the numerous lobster
pots. And, it’s known as the wooden boat
region. We see many beautiful examples
along the way and even duck into the harbor
of Brooklyn to see a few
more.
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| Beautiful boats along the Eggemoggin Reach |
Nearby is the Wooden Boat
School, a traditional
boat building academy and home to the publication Wooden Boat. The vistas of mountains to the northeast beckon us
onward.
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| Mainland mountains in the distance |
We drop anchor in Mackerel Cove, a large bay with a few
other boats scattered amongst its nooks. The next morning we cart the bikes to
shore and take one of the few roads on the island down to Burnt Coat Harbor.
We hear they are having a music fest that night, and we want to see if
tickets are still available. It’s an
arduous ride over hills that are much steeper than we reckoned. Burnt Coat is an authentic lobstering town
with an active co-op for the lobstermen but not much else.
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| Lobster sheds and boats at Burnt Coat Harbor |
We hike out to a point anchored by the harbor
lighthouse and in the process, come across an old cemetery with graves dating
from the early 1800’s. The overlook shows us significant fog banks in the
distance.
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| Line in the distance is the fog creeping in |
The locals tell us that the music festival is sold out, but if we
would show up around dusk, we could probably get in. With the impending fog and dark, and the
challenging return bike ride ahead, we decide the wise choice is to spend the night
safely on the boat.
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| Fog rolls in to Mackerel Cove |
The next morning the fog appears to lift so we set off for Mt. Desert
Island. Once we get into the channels, the fog sets
in again, denser than before. We see
nothing other than endless lobster pots materializing just in front of the
bow. With fog horn blaring, we slowly
motor through this maze for miles. We
suspect the scenery is spectacular, but we see nothing. Miraculously, we avoid snaring a pot and make
our way into Northeast Harbor on Mount Desert Island,
tying up on to a mooring float.
