“It’s just Maine!”
That’s what the locals say when explaining the weather. Some days are just
spectacular and some are as bad as it gets.
The locals claim this is the worst summer they’ve seen in over 15
years. We seem to be averaging 60%
marvelous and 40% miserable as compared to last year when it was more like 90%
marvelous.
After transiting the Cape Cod Canal, we stop in Provincetown for a
night. We have two days of “marvelous” predicted
and leave late the next morning for the overnight trip to Penobscot Bay. Just off shore of the tip of Cape Cod we encounter a whale no more than 100 yards off
our boat. It is a lazy whale (probably a
humpback) that slowly rolls through the water, spouting every so often.
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| Look carefully, you'll see a small portion of the whale - just had to include the picture to prove we actually saw a whale. |
The amazing part about a whale is how long it
takes to get from blow hole to tail – they are really huge creatures that dwarf
our boat. A bit more plentiful and
lively are the seals and harbor porpoises that we occasionally pass by. The Stellwagen Banks, which we are transiting,
are teaming with life, and it surprises us that we don’t see more.
The passage is an easy motor, and we enter Maine
waters in the morning, passing by remote and rocky Monhegan Island. It is a good thing we have good light because
the lobster pots are everywhere. Our Australian friends from last summer
described them as Jellies, as in jelly beans strewn all across the water. Passing through lobster pots is an art we are
still attempting to learn. We motor
slowly, trying to decipher which pots are singles, which are cabled together in
multi-pot chains, and which have toggle lines with small buoys as pickup lines.
The entire point is to avoid entangling anything in your prop, rudder or
keel. So far we’ve been successful, but
we know our days are numbered.
Our route north takes us through narrow channels formed by
the mainland and small outlying islands.
The shore is rimmed with summer cottages. With Owl Head light on our port, we enter Rockland Harbor and drop anchor.
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| Rounding Owl Head Light |
After a change to rest from the 26 hour
passage, we head into town for a walk and an opportunity to attend Rockland’s annual
Lobsterfest. It is opening night, and we enjoy a stroll through the many carnie
rides and concessions, past the stage where the Lobster Queen will be crowned
later that evening, stopping for a photo-op with the famous lobster, and on to
a huge waterfront tent where lobsters in great quantity will meet their
fate. A complete lobster dinner is $12,
add another $6 if you want two lobsters.
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| Posing with the famous lobster |
We have reservations the next night for a mooring ball in Camden, but the morning
dawns with a dense fog, so dense that we can hardly see past the bow of our
boat. Camden is
only 8 miles away, so we take a deep breath and head out, depending entirely on
our radar, chartplotter, and automatic fog signal. It is unnerving as boats are
passing within a boat length or two of us. We enter Camden harbor and have no idea of where we
are to go. As the marina sends out a
launch to lead us to our mooring ball, the fog begins to lift, and we find
ourselves in the midst of the mooring field, very lucky to not have hit another
boat. Surrounding us are the high Camden
Hills, more like low mountains when viewed from sea level. Camden
in a clearing fog is spectacular.
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| Camden inner harbor after the fog disappears |
After tying up, we glance back at the open water and see a
huge fleet of sailboats heading our way under spinnakers. Something is up. This is a feeder race for the Eggemoggin Reach
Race, the premier New England race series for classic boats, and we have found
ourselves in Camden
Harbor on probably the
best day of the year. Almost a hundred
classic boats will eventually spend the night in Camden,
accompanied by a number of support boats, some of which are the classic turn of
the century motor yachts we have admired in Newport.
Herreshoff designs like Ticonderoga and
Juno are here. There are a slew of Concordia yawls rafted at the yacht
club.
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| Just a few of the Concordias in the harbor |
Wild Horses makes an appearance.
To top it all, the resident and renowned Camden Schooner fleet moves in and out
of the harbor all day.
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| The long term charter schooners at the dock in Camden |
It is all beyond
belief, and to put things in perspective, Burt spends some time in the marina
lounge to get WIFI. He sits down next to
a gentleman who introduces himself as David Rockefeller, and they have a nice
chat about the race series in which he is crewing. We feel we are definitely in
another universe. That evening we enjoy happy hour on the flying bridge of a
friend’s trawler that is moored in the inner harbor. All evening these boats come and go right off
their transom.
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| View from the flying bridge |
As one person comments,
you’ll never see so much perfect varnish work in one place again. So true!
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| One of the Herreshoffs at the docks |
The next morning we reluctantly leave Camden
in drizzle and fog for Isleboro
Island and a private home
that is hosting the Downeast Seven Seas Cruising Association Gam.
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| Plenty of seals sunning themselves on the rocks at the entrance of the Isleboro anchorage |
The rain lets up for an hour or so, and we
have the scheduled dinghy raft-up happy hour. About 50 dinghies tie off one of
the anchored boats, hors d’ouvres are frantically passed from dinghy to dinghy,
wine is consumed, and we reconnect with a number of our cruising friends.
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| Wine and snacks glore |
The next day the official Gam begins at the
home of Dick and Cathy DeGrasse who have a lovely waterfront cottage on the
island. The ongoing rain stops just in
time, the sun comes out, and we enjoy a gourmet pot-luck lunch on their sloping
lawn, followed by a speaker from the Island Institute, a non-profit that is
working to maintain the economies of full time communities on these outlying Maine Islands. We learn about the lobstering and tourist
industries, and the infrastructure necessary to support these communities in
such a harsh environment. We have taken our bikes ashore, and after the gam
take a short bike ride on the island, summer home to a number of celebrities,
including John Travolta, who long for seclusion. The rain starts back up, and we race back to
the boat to dry off and warm up.
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| Fog rolls in between Isleboro and Camden with the Gam fleet in the foreground |
The weather service has promised us several days of
“Marvelous Maine”. We head back to Camden for
another night at a mooring and use of the marina’s courtesy car to get some
groceries and drive to the top of Mt.
Battie which overlooks
the harbor.
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| The spectacular view from the Camden Hills |
The next day we head to some of the more remote off shore locations
that under other conditions can be mired in fog. We work our way through the scenic Fox Island
Thoroughfare, a twisting passage between small and large islands, to Seal Bay on Vinalhaven Island.
Beside the few permanent homes along the shore, this is an isolated and
undeveloped bay providing total protection from the open water. It winds between
rock ledges and small islets with numerous nooks for anchoring. We drop our hook in an empty corner and enjoy
the beautiful vistas both from the boat and via a dinghy ride through the
bay.
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| Little nooks and crannies in Seal Bay |
And, Seal Bay
is aptly named as there are seals here. On
our dinghy ride, we disturb a few that give us dirty looks and hear their
barking at dawn the next day.
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| A seal rests on a rock in Seal Bay |
Our next destination is Frenchboro on Long
Island (which is actually fairly round, go figure). Our route
takes us through Merchants Way,
another passage amongst many small islands. Between islands we get glimpses of
several of the Camden
schooners taking their passengers on the road less traveled. Seals dot some of the rock outcroppings, and
the many lobster buoys and attending boats keep us alert. Frenchboro is rated
five stars in our cruising guide, and the reason becomes readily apparent. This
picturesque community of 60 year round inhabitants clings to the rocky, sloping
harbor, continuing their many generation tradition of lobstering. After
anchoring, we take the dinghy to the Lunt and Lunt Lobster Company dock, also
serving as the dinghy dock. When we
arrive the men are unloading the day’s haul into shipping containers that float
out into the harbor.
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| Unloading the lobsters at the dock - the crates stream out into Frenchboro Harbor |
In a couple of days
they will take them to a wholesaler on the mainland. The community consists of the Lunt and Lunt
Dockside Deli (small kitchen, takeout counter, and picnic tables on a deck
overlooking the harbor), a one room school house, a small museum, and a
church.
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| Frenchboro's inner harbor at low tide - tides here are about 10 feet |
There are a few summer homes,
but the majority of the land is part of a conservation trust. We take a hike to the south shore through
moss and fern carpeted woods, to a boulder rimmed, barren shoreline overlooking
the Atlantic Ocean.
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| The rock beach on the south side of Long Island |
Back at the Deli, we share a piece of
homemade blueberry pie ($4, the coffee is free) and watch as another patron
orders a lobster dinner. The owner takes
a big pot down to the dock, fills it with salt water, and picks out a lobster
from a crate. It doesn’t get much
fresher than that, all for $12, pie included. Frenchboro is a special place, one
well worth the effort to reach.
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| A beautiful sunset from our anchorage at Frenchboro |
So, we leave early the next day for Northeast
Harbor on Mt.
Desert Island
(Acadia National Park). “Marvelous Maine” is coming to an
end with several days of rain, thunderstorms, and fog predicted. We will tie to a moored dock section shared
with another boat and ride out the inclement weather in this popular and
protected harbor. We arrive in the late morning and get one of the last spots
available. Apparently, others are also
listening to the weather.
