With the outboard back in shape, it is time to depart Newport for Maine. We do so via a sail up Buzzard’s Bay and an
over night at the little village of Onset which anchors the mouth of the Cape Cod Canal. We
need to time our transit through the canal to coincide with a favorable
tide. The water levels in Buzzard’s Bay
and Cape Cod Bay can differ by several feet, so the
tidal currents are something to be reckoned with. We do our calculations and appear to have
gotten them right as we are accompanied by a sizable contingent of
sailboats. The first sight we see in the
canal is the vertical lift railroad bridge, the second largest in the
world. Once a week a train passes over
it carrying the trash from the Cape to the
mainland; otherwise it remains open at all times.
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| Railroad lift bridge on Cape Cod Canal - notice the decorative turrets on the piers |
Along both sides of the canal are bicycle
trails and our fleet of boats provides entertainment for those pedaling alongside. We exit into Cape
Cod Bay and proceed
towards Provincetown
with the wind on our nose and choppy seas. Rounding the hook into Provincetown is a welcome
change, and we drop anchor in this large, protected bay.
Provincetown
is bedecked with rainbow flags, and we wonder if we will feel out of place
here. But, upon stepping ashore, we find the town full of tourists and
families, and the diverse populations seem to get along just fine. At the main pier we find the Kalmar Nyckel, a
tall ship representing the state of Delaware. It is in particularly good shape and, talking
to one of the crew, we find they have over 350 volunteers who help with the
maintenance and sailing of the ship.
Several of their volunteers are master wood carvers and that becomes
readily apparent as the hull is decorated with many whimsical carvings of
animals and people. Along the stern are
a row of faces of people who have financially supported the boat, a tradition
for ships of that era.
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| The wonderfully decorated stern of the Kalmar Nyckel |
We take our bikes ashore and wander through tidy cottage
neighborhoods with attractive gardens.
Many of these homes are over one hundred years old.
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| Home and lush garden in Provincetown |
Just outside of town, we pick up an asphalt
bike trail into the Cape Cod National Seashore.
One of the nicest trails we have ever ridden, it wanders along the
coast, through woodlands, and up and down the steep dunes with a series of
hairpin turns and two tunnels.
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| A first class bike trail through the Cape Cod National Seashore |
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| View over the high dunes from the bike trail |
The trail ends at Race Point, a sand beach
rimmed by dunes extending as far as one can see. We begin walking down the beach and find
everyone is gazing out into the water.
Near the shore two seals swim by and further out we see some commotion
in the water. Several large whales have
come in relatively close to shore and are putting on quite a show with displays
of spouting, tail flips and breaching.
After all, Race Point is the southern boundary of the Stillwagen Banks,
the summer home to several varieties of whales. Further down the beach is a
restored Life Saving Station. With the
converging currents that formed the Cape and
the many shoals off shore, the area is known for turbulent and dangerous waters
resulting in numerous shipwrecks.
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| Old lifesaving station at Race Point |
We head back to Provincetown,
passing by the site where the Pilgrims first landed.
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| Where Pilgrim feet first touched American soil |
Yes, Plymouth Rock was the
second landfall for the Pilgrims. After
several weeks of exploring the Cape, the
Pilgrims decided that the sandy soil and lack of fresh water made the area
untenable for agriculture. At that point
they left to permanently settle at Plymouth. Commemorating this is a 252 foot high granite
monument atop the highest hill in Provincetown.
It is the tallest granite structure in the United States.
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| So tall, it hardly fits into the viewfinder |
And, despite our aching legs from the bike
ride, we decide to ascend the tower. Inside the tower are plaques listing the
towns where descendents of the Pilgrims reside. Interestingly, many of these
towns were originally settled in the 1600’s. 116 stairs and 60 ramps later, we are at the
top and enjoying a spectacular view of Provincetown
and the Cape stretching beyond it.
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| View of Provincetown Harbor from the Pilgrim Monument |
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| Looking down the Cape - it's just really a long sandbar |
We depart Provincetown
and head out on to the Stillwagen Banks.
After what we had seen off the beach, we are certain we will have some wonderful
encounters with whales. The camera is fully charged, and we scan the waters
with the binoculars. Where are the
whales? After a while we find a small pod of Minske whales that really look
like large dolphins and have none of the more exciting behaviors seen in larger
whales. Later, in the distance we see
some spouting and one large whale, probably a humpback or fin whale, actually
breaking the surface of the water. In
all, it’s a great disappointment, and we come away without a single picture.
Our destination, Penobscot
Bay, is over 140 miles
away, and we will travel through the night to reach it. Shortly before sunset a
small cormorant tries to land on our boat.
It is obviously tired and in need of rest. We would prefer not to have hitchhikers, but
when it settles on an arm of the dinghy davits, we let it stay, knowing
tomorrow we will need to clean bird poop out of the dinghy. We wonder, does the
bird realize it is on its way to Maine?
The wind is on our stern, and the wave angle gives us an uncomfortable roll. We
finally decide to douse sails and motor the rest of the way, resulting in a bit
more comfortable ride. A heavy fog
settles in. Just at daybreak I see what appear
to be two seals welcoming us to Maine’s
waters. But why aren’t they moving as
our boat approaches? At the last minute
I realize they aren’t seals, but rather are our first encounter with the feared
lobster pots for which Maine
is famous. I shift to neutral and
somehow we glide by without wrapping the prop in the lines. We are still 12 miles from the nearest land
and in 350 feet of water – who would expect to find lobster pots out here? For
the next six exhausting hours we slowly motor, with automated fog horn blaring,
through a maze of lobster pots and erratically moving lobster and fishing
boats. We see absolutely nothing and
totally rely on our radar, chartplotter, and AIS to show us the way. We may be
in Maine and in Penobscot Bay
but who would know? We work our way into
Rockland, and
the visibility improves just enough to safely anchor among the other boats in
the harbor.
After a long nap, we head into Rockland for their annual Lobsterfest. This is the equivalent of a county fair with
the livestock replaced by boiled lobsters, lobster rolls, lobster chowder, lobster
crafts and silly lobster hats.
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| Burt gets into the spirit of Lobsterfest - behind him are vats of steaming lobsters |
We wander
through the displays and concessions and eventually make our way into the town
proper. Besides its reputation as the Lobster
Capital of the World, Rockland
is quite an art colony. The main street
is lined with private galleries and anchoring it is the Farnsworth Gallery
which houses the largest collection of the Wyeths’ and their contemporaries’
paintings. Unfortunately, it has already closed for the day. Back at the festival, it is time to indulge
in some lobster. Twelve dollars gets you a lobster and all the sides, served
under a huge tent as the fog is so dense, it might as well be raining.
By noon the next day, the fog has lifted, and we finally see
why we traveled so far.
Penobscot
Bay is dotted with wooded
islands and rimmed by high hills. The
water is filled with sailboats, many of them traditional wooden schooners and
slopes.
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| Wooden schooner undersail in Penobscott Bay |
It is indeed a beautiful place and reminds us of our beloved North
Channel area of Lake Huron. And it is to one of these islands we are now
headed. The Seven Seas Cruising
Association is sponsoring a Gam this weekend at a private home on Islesboro Island. As we pull into the large
harbor, we are greeted by a fleet of DH (Dark Harbor,
the name of the small village on the island) wooden sloops. It’s race day, and
we pass the starting line just a few minutes before the horn. After anchoring in a cove, we look back to
see all the boats under sail with colorful spinnakers. We have arrived in time for the Friday
evening dinghy raft-up. Thirty some
dinghies tie up behind one boat, and we enjoy greeting new and old friends with
the wine and hors d’ouvres in abundance.
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| A beautiful sunset at Islesboro Island on our first fog free day in Maine |
The next day we go ashore to the host’s home to relax on their shaded
lawn, walk through their attractive gardens, and enjoy a pot luck lunch and
guest speaker. But, the real intent of a Gam is to renew acquaintances and meet
new fellow cruisers. Here, in this
protected outpost of Maine
we find more than a handful of cruisers who have crossed oceans or
circumnavigated. Also in attendance are
Steve and Linda Dashew, designers of Deerfoot yachts, noted authors of many
authoritative books on seamanship and boat maintenance, and multiple
circumnavigators. We feel pretty
insignificant in this group. As the twelve foot tide begins to fall, we rescue
our now aground dinghy and head back to the boat. Just before sunset, one of the DH sloops that
had been moored next to us yesterday runs ground on a nearby rock ledge. It is
painful to watch as this beautiful boat begins to lean to one side, the water
getting perilously close to coming over the gunnels. We worry it could sink or the rocks could
puncture its wooden hull. Boats hover
nearby trying to help, but the only solution is to wait for the rising
tide. Come morning, she is happily back
afloat and bobbing at the nearby mooring ball – we breathe a sigh of
relief.
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| The DH sloop sailing past us prior to running aground |
We have made it to Maine
from the far away Bahamas. Attending the Gam was the driving force
behind our schedule. Now that we’re
here, it’s time to see what lies around the corner.
