It is time for us to begin the trip south, but we intend to
dawdle along the way. Twelve miles due
south of Northeast Harbor lies Long Island and the little village of Frenchboro.
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| The weather vane welcomes us to Frenchboro |
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| And the church at the top of the harbor which sports the weather vane |
The (definitive) Taft Cruising Guide to the Maine Coast
rates the many harbors and anchorages in the state on a one to five star
basis. Of the hundreds of listings, there
are probably only a dozen five star destinations in the guide, and this is one
of them. It is remote, and the anchorage
is not suitable in all weather conditions, but we have picked a spectacular day
to head there. There are only a few
rental moorings in the outer harbor, and we are fortunate to score one. We hop into the dinghy and head to
shore. About 80% of the island is
conservation land and the remainder hosts homes for a few seasonal visitors and
a small community of around 70 full time residents comprised of fishermen and
their families.
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| The village surrounds the harbor which partially dries at low tide - after all, we're in a region of 12 foot tides. |
After visiting a small
museum where we pick up a trail map, we begin a long hike to the south shore of
the island. The beautifully maintained trails wind through dense pine woods
where the moss on the rocks is so thick and spongy you can’t feel the hard
surfaces below.
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| The moss covered forest floor almost seems like a fairy land - enchanting! |
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| A close up of a rock thickly frosted with moss. |
Upon reaching Big Bay,
we find a beach of large, smooth cobblestones as far as the eye can see.
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| A vview from afar of the cobble beach. |
Climbing the cobbles is a bit treacherous since they roll against each other as
we ascend the piles.
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| And the shoreline up close - the cobble are between one to three feet in diameter |
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| Butterflies alight a thistle along the trail |
The hike continues
further, alternating between forest paths and trails along the shoreline of Deep Bay.
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| Deep Bay with more bays for exploring in the distance |
We finally come upon an unmaintained service
road that eventually leads back to the village.
We have been hiking for hours and never heard or saw another person –
the only sounds are the waves breaking along the shore and the birds overhead. Back
in the village, it is time to stop for an early supper at the Lundt Lobster
pound. If you order a lobster dinner,
the owner grabs a big pot, heads down to the lobster pound/dock, fills the pot
with water from the harbor, and grabs the unfortunate lobster, kicking and
screaming, from the pound beneath the dock.
Fifteen minutes later, you have a lobster dinner set in front of you on
the deck overlooking the harbor. It just
doesn’t get much fresher than that! And
as an added bonus, overhead, a bald eagle is being chased by several gulls.
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| Burt enjoys his lobster with the mountains of Acadia is the far distance |
Frenchboro is a very special place, and we
will return again when possible.
Our next destination is Burnt
Coat Harbor
on the south shore of Swan
Island. Again, this is a remote and quiet fishing
village. There are rental moorings
available but not much infrastructure on shore besides private houses and
lobster wharfs.
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| One of several lobster wharfs at Burnt Coat Harbor |
We explore the harbor by dinghy and come upon a ledge drying
out in the low tide where seals are sunning themselves. They don’t seem
frightened by the dinghy, so we can get quite close to say hello and snap a few
pictures.
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| Just another great day to chill out if you are a seal |
Across the harbor is an outlet
on one wharf the guide book says sells scallops. We head over there and
fortunately find the owner’s wife.
Scallops are not in season, but they have some frozen and would be willing
to sell them to us. Drooling, Burt orders two pounds at a remarkably cheap
price. Only problem is that they are
frozen in one pound bags, so that night Burt “agrees” to consume an entire
pound in one sitting – they are some of the best scallops he has ever eaten.
Moving on the next day, we return to Carver’s Harbor on the
south side of Vinalhaven
Island where we had
stopped a few weeks earlier. In a harbor
of over 100 lobster boats, there are only three rental moorings and definitely
no room for anchoring. We grab an
available mooring and watch as the two boats behind us take the remaining
moorings – timing is everything! As we
sit on the boat, we observe a semi-truck being loaded with pallets of lobster
crates, A few calculations later, we figure
the semi, now being driven onto a ferry, is containing somewhere around 10,000
lobsters. Trucks like this are loaded on to the ferry more than once a day.
This is serious lobster territory!
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| One of the lobster wharfs in Vinalhaven |
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| And the many boats that call this place home |
And it is here at Vinalhaven we say goodbye to Maine. The next morning, once we have sufficient
light to see the many pots in the water, we point the boat south to Cape Cod. The
water is glassy as we motor offshore in the company of harbor porpoises,
various birds, and an encounter with two of the supposedly rare sunfish. Twenty four hours and 143 miles later, we
arrive in Provincetown on the tip of Cape Cod. We spend
two days here recuperating from the voyage and enjoying this lively town. It is Carnival Week with all the “unusual”
that you can imagine. (Burt was sad to
have to pass up an evening at Drag Queen Bingo and the Carnival Parade the next
afternoon!?!) But we escape the crowds with a bike ride out to the National
Seashore. The beautiful bike trail winds
through beech forests and over the huge dunes that comprise this end of the Cape.
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| A view from the paved bike trail that winds through the dunes |
We take a
wade in the water at Race Point and then ride back to the concession on the
beach, closer to town, for a late lunch overlooking the water.
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| The restored lifesaving station at Race Point, Cape Cod National Seashore |
It takes us two days to make the passage through the Cape
Cod Canal and on to Newport
as the currents are not timed to our liking.
After heading down Buzzard’s Bay with wind on the nose, we pull into Cuttyhunk Island at dusk for the night. The next morning dawns with a thick fog, and
we pick our way out into the Bay and through the congested commercial traffic
lanes. Eyes are glued on the radar and AIS, and the fog horn is blaring as we
cross paths with large boats that only become faintly visible in less than a
tenth of a mile. Relaxing? Not really.
The fog lifts as we approach Narragansett Bay, the wind comes up, and we
have a great sail into Newport,
a mecca for all things nautical. Newport can be great fun, but this time our only goal is
to reprovision, do laundry, and rent a car for a day so that we may have one
last visit with Bryan
and his family. Isabella celebrated her
first birthday a week earlier, but we want to want to help assemble our gift to
her and see how she manages this slide/treehouse combination. While it won’t be a permanent fixture in
their living room, we get it put together (too buggy to do so outside) and
watch as she explores the structure and eventually learns to climb the stairs
and descend the slide.
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| Isabella concentrates on refining her sliding technique |
Our cruising life
is wonderful, but the downside is missing so many of the special moments in our
grandchildren’s lives.
After returning the car well after dark, we leave at first
light the next morning for the Chesapeake. There have been very few opportunities to
head south as the southwest winds have been relentless. But, this is one of those rare times we see
north component winds. We head directly
from the mouth of Narragansett Bay, along the south shore
of Long Island, to Cape May at the
entrance to Delaware Bay. At times we are 60 miles offshore. We only encounter commercial traffic when
crossing the traffic lanes to New York
City. At one
point a decent northwest wind kicks in, and we have a great reaching sail at
speeds closing in on 8 knots for around six hours. Otherwise, it is an easy motorsail. We reach Cape May earlier than expected and
head into the harbor to wait a few hours until the currents change in Delaware Bay. At
sunset, we fire up the diesel and head back out, covering the length of Delaware Bay during the night hours. The Delaware
is one of the most boring passages we make all year, so doing so in the dark
eases some of the pain. And this time,
we are only passed by three commercial vessels during the entire trip – a new
record for us. We enter the Chesapeake and Delaware
Canal at daybreak
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| A quiet morning on the C&D Canal |
and two hours later
we are in the Chesapeake.
Another 40 miles due south lies our destination, Annapolis.
The trip has taken us 53 hours, and we have covered 355 nautical miles.
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| The Pride of Baltimore with the Bay Bridge in the background, welcomes us to the Chesapeake. |
We will spend a week in Annapolis
on a mooring ball near the Naval
Academy. With the
exception of the weekend, it is quiet here as it is late enough in the season
that tourists are not overrunning the place.
We have dinner with some of our cruising friends who are also in the
area and bike or walk the historic streets. For example, a bike trip to the
grocery store entails starting just outside the Naval
Academy, riding past Revolutionary War
era row houses, past two of the mansions owned by signers of the Declaration of
Independence, past the State
Capital Building,
and across a creek where the Naval Cadets often practice rowing. We get
numerous errands accomplished, Burt recoats some exterior varnish, and we begin
to prepare the boat and ourselves for what comes next. We will move about 15
miles further south to Hartge Yacht Harbor, where our mast will be removed and
the boat hauled into a large, climate-controlled painting building for the three
to four weeks it takes to awlgrip (repaint) the hull. We estimate the current surface to be about
15 years old, and the paint is beginning to fail. Come October we will be beautiful and shiny
again. Meanwhile, we will stay in a
cottage on the grounds of the yard for the duration, with the exception of a
week trip to Ohio and Wisconsin to visit family. In the four plus years that we have been
living aboard Exuberant, this will be by far the longest time we have spent
ashore. We wonder how we will sleep
without some rocking at night!
