Marvelous Maine 2015 – Isolated Fishing Villages

We are finally in Maine!  After a foggy sunrise, the sky has turned postcard blue, and we are off to Monhegan Island, a rocky outcropping that guards the offshore waters of Penobscot Bay.  It is remote and rarely visited by cruising boats since the harbor would be unsafe in certain wind conditions.  Additionally it doesn’t cater to transients as all the moorings belong to fisherman.  And by fishing, we are referring to lobstering, the mainstay of the economy of Downeast Maine. Upon arrival we radio the harbormaster and ask if a private mooring might be available for an overnight.  Yes, there is one empty, and we are welcome to tie up.  The view from Exuberant oozes charm and authenticity.  Lobster boats fill the small harbor, and the shore sports wharfs and piles of lobster traps. 

Rows of lobster boats awaiting the new fishing season.

An island freighter, with its integral cranes, off loads supplies to Monhegan.

Unlike the other Maine islands, Monhegan fishermen have opted not to lobster in the summer months to sustain their lobster population.  As a result, we have encountered very few pots along the way; rather they are all onshore awaiting the beginning of the season in October. 

Lobster pots sit unattended in a field as wildflower grow amongst them.

 

We have been on passage for over 24 hours and are anxious to get on shore and stretch our legs.  Hiking up to the lighthouse, we admire the fields of wildflowers and gardens adorning the cedar sided homes along the way. 
 

Cedar sided houses on the waterfront.

The flower gardens are happy to see the sun in this usually foggy area.

The view from the heights is spectacular.   

View from the light house towards the harbor and Manana Island

We look down upon the village with its large summer hotel dating from around 1900 and across the small harbor to the adjacent island, Manana, where once stood a manned Coast Guard fog signal station.  Manana is barren and rugged, and was the setting for one of Andrew Wyeth’s most famous paintings. While at the Monhegan Lighthouse, we visit the island museum, crammed with relics of an earlier day reflecting island living and survival.  Next door is a new art museum that houses traveling shows, one per summer, featuring a famous artist who once painted on Monhegan Island. You see, besides being a fishing village, Monhegan is also an artists’ colony, with the likes of the Wyeths, Rockwell Kent, and Edward Hooper having been in residence at some point.

We hike across the summit of the island to the undeveloped windward shore, where most of the land outside of the village area is maintained as a nature preserve.  The view from the 160 foot high cliffs is breath-taking.

The view looking north.

The view looking south

Seagulls soar below us, waves crash along the rocky shore, and in the distance we see a rare ocean sunfish floating along the surface of the water.

A poor picture of a sunfish taken from the cliffs.  The head is aimed to the left and one fin is above water, a typical swimming pattern.  Sunfish average six feet across and can be much large - quite unusual looking fish.

We regret leaving beautiful Monhegan Island the next morning, but, with good weather forecasted, we depart for another rarely visited out island destination, Mantinicus Island. Mantinicus is considered the most remote island in Maine with a year round population. We are traveling far enough away from the larger ports that we see few lobster pots, a real joy in this neck of the woods.   Upon arrival we are able to find a mooring in this harbor which is otherwise filled with lobster boats.  Along the shore are many fishing wharfs and small homes scattered between the rocky outcroppings. 

A view across the harbor at Mantinicus Island

 

A fisherman's gear stands waiting at one of the wharfs.

Otherwise there is very little development here.  The ferry only visits twice a month, and food is delivered via special order by plane.  We wander the few gravel roads and find there are even fewer people and no infrastructure.  Somewhere, although we never saw it, there is a bakery in one woman’s house. And somehow we manage to find the only other commercial establishment, a small gift shop and gallery called The Fisherman’s Wife.  We stop in and visit with the owner and her daughter, previously the teacher in the one room school house that services around ten children in grades K – 8.  Interestingly, on the shelves in the shop are many books by a children’s author, Gail Gibbons, who spends summers on the island.  I had bought one of her books, Life on a Maine Island, for our grandsons a year ago.  Based on this island, we discover many of the illustrations in the book feature the shop owner’s family and the book is dedicated to her and her husband. With little else to do on the island – no ice cream or soda shops here - we head back to the boat.

There is often stiff competition between and within these fishing communities for control over lobstering territory, reminiscent of a cross between the Wild West and the Hatfields and McCoys.  Referred to as “Lobster Wars”, a good example is cited in one of our cruising guides.  Apparently a serious feud developed between two of the fishermen on Mantinicus Island, escalating to the point that one individual took a plane loaded with a large boulder (not hard to find around here), flew over his competition, and dropped the boulder on top of his rival’s boat, sinking it immediately. In this land of rugged individuals, the fishermen are a force to be reckoned with.  We sense this atmosphere on Mantinicus, while at other islands the people are remarkably friendly.

The next leg of our adventure takes us to the southern end of Vinalhaven Island and Carver’s Harbor. 

Congested Carver's Harbor

Again we find ourselves in a harbor chocked full of fishing vessels and are lucky to find a fisherman in a dinghy who is willing to show us to one of two rental buoys. It is a tight squeeze for us between other fishing boats and a raft full of lobster traps, interspersed with random lobster pots floating between the moorings.

Shore side wharfs are at a premiium here so large floats in the harbor also off load the day's catch.

Some of our neighbors at the mooring.  The names on the boats can be quite amusing as in this one "Haul a day" and another nearby, "Lobsta Tales".

This is a fishing village on quite a different scale than Monhegan or Mantinicus.  Probably over 100 lobster boats populate the harbor, leaving in a roar at sunrise each morning and returning in a steady stream of traffic during the afternoon as they unload their catch at numerous commercial wharfs.  Further down, a ferry from Rockland arrives every few hours.  The streets are paved and the downtown has all the amenities of the mainland – a bank, sizable grocery store, several motels and restaurants, a K-12 school, and a small scale hospital. We have returned to civilization, albeit still a bit remote from the tourist side of Maine. 

After wandering the streets of the village, we walk out of town to Lane Island which connects to Vinalhaven by a small bridge.  Most of Lane Island is Nature Conservancy Land, and we enjoy a hike along the rocky shoreline.  Vistas overlook marsh land, tidal pools bedecked with kelp and seaweed, fields of wildflowers, and the coast line we traversed on our way into the harbor.  

A series of scenes from our hike at Lane Island.

It is a delightful way to spend an afternoon, but as we head back to the boat, we notice the sky is beginning to darken – our stretch of perfect weather is about to come to an end. We arrive at the boat in time to batten down the hatches before we are pelted with heavy rain.  

Storm's a coming!

As luck would have it, we have made dinner reservation at the “upscale” Haven restaurant in town. In true cruiser mode, we don our foul weather gear and water shoes and head out for a drenching in the dinghy.  But this is Maine, and the restaurant has an anti-room where we can leave our dripping outwear.  It is worth the effort as we have a gourmet dinner at a price one would normally pay for hamburgers in more well known vacation towns. After dinner we chat with the couple at the table next to us.  A fisherman by trade, he has just returned from assisting on a two week tour with a NOAA research vessel in the Gulf of Maine.  He is full of stories about whales, sharks (he saw a 12 foot great white shark jump completely out of the water), and even a few of the rare, although perhaps not as rare as we have been led to believe, sunfish.

When in Rome, do as the Romans, right?  So when in Carver’s Harbor, it seems only right to head to the Lobster Cooperative and purchase a lobster for dinner.  Bought directly from fishermen, lobsters are pretty cheap and our 1 ½ pounder runs us $9, up a bit from the prices we saw last year.  The only problem is that we’ve never cooked a lobster.  Burt gets on the internet and researches how to prepare lobster.  We decide on the steaming method.  Now purchased, our lobster is residing in the refrigerator in a plastic bag, and I am freaking out imagining that it has gotten loose and is roaming the frig, ready to snip off any wayward fingers.  Reaching in to grab a soda takes all the courage I can muster.  The lobster has been carefully measured to fit into the largest pot I have on board, but there will be little room to spare and I fear it might decide to climb out as it is a frisky one.  Come dinner time, I get the pot steaming but it is Burt’s task to actually do the deed; I am totally incapable of sending the lobster to the sauna of doom even though I am looking forward to its exit from the refrigerator. Minutes later Burt is enjoying his lobster (I’m allergic to seafood so am not partaking) and claims it is the tastiest ever. Meanwhile, I am calming my frayed nerves with a glass of wine. 

We spend two more days in Vinalhaven, with rain and fog keeping us mostly on the boat.  We finally decide to move on despite the weather.  The forecast says the dense fog will lift by mid-morning, but, guess what, the forecast lies.  Once we leave the harbor the fog really closes in on us.  Visibility is no more than 100 feet, so we proceed with both of us intensely watching the radar, listening for the sounds of nearby boats, and dodging the ever more plentiful lobster pots. Our automated fog horn is blaring, and we are proceeding at an antagonizingly slow pace. We finally arrive at our anchorage in a cove near Hell’s Half Acre Island, a mile past the town of Stonington on Deer Isle.   What should have been a gorgeous sail past rocky islets and pine rimmed and boulder strewn coves, ends up being the source of stress headaches. With the anchor down and our nerves settling, the fog lifts enough for us to enjoy this lovely anchorage., a quiet cove surrounded by small rocky islets. We decide to take the dinghy into Stonington, another fishing village, albeit a developed one as the island is attached to the mainland by a bridge.  

The view of Stonington Harbor with lobster boats tucked between rocky outcropping. Note the fog bank in the distance beginning to creep in.

Stonington shoreline with the fog thickening.

At the last minute, I decide to bring along our handheld GPS to lay a track line just in case the fog should return.  We wander the streets of Stonington, stopping at our favorite book store in an old fishing shack, and resting along the harbor front with a soda.  The trip back to the anchorage begins with a leisurely ride around the harbor in the dinghy, but quickly the fog begins to roll in and minutes later we can see nothing.  It is totally disorienting and without the GPS track we would have been motoring in circles for the entire night.  Upon returning to the anchorage, we can barely see a large wooden schooner that has anchored nearby,

The schooner that is about to pull a disappearing act.

and a few minutes later the only evidence of it is the sound of its crew chatting on deck.

The next morning dawns with some fog, but visibility has greatly improved so we head ten miles west to the Fox Island Thorofare which divides Vinalhaven from North Haven, otherwise known as the two Fox Islands. It is a fun cruise up this narrow passageway, strewn with small rock islands and rimmed by a mixture of woods and sloping lawns on the shore.  And, there is no shortage of lobster pots to challenge our piloting skills. Up until now we have been visiting villages where lobster fishing is the primary economic force, but North Haven, along with the nearby portions of Vinalhaven, is primarily a vacation destination.  The harbor is full of boats, but the majority are recreational vessels on moorings and fleets of junior sailors from the yacht club, underway to the nearby cove for a practice session.  From our anchorage, it is a short hop to Perry Creek which we explore by dinghy until we run short of water depth. Except for the very beginning, the creek runs through land controlled by the Nature Conservancy – it is a tranquil setting disturbed only by the sounds of birds.

One way to get waterfront views - a houseboat moored in Perry Creek.

 Exploring the village of North Haven doesn’t take too long; it is a small, quiet community of vacation homes and a few gift shops.

A vacation home along the North Haven waterfront - note how it stands on stone piers made of the native granite.

And on Tuesday, even the ice cream store is closed. We return to the boat for a rushed dinner on the grill as thunderstorms are passing within a few miles of us. Tomorrow we will exchange our week exploring these off-the-beaten-path islands for the bustle of the relatively big city of Camden.

Island Hopping in New England - 2015

We are breaking the bonds of Newport and heading out to Block Island for about a week.  We initially drop the anchor at the far end of Great Salt Pond with its serene vistas towards the clamming grounds   

The view towards the ineer mooring field at Block Island.

 Later in the week Bryan and his family join us, taking the ferry boat over from Point Judith, and for convenience, we move on to a mooring in the more congested area.  Block Island with a small child is different from what we usually experience.  We all pile into the dinghy and head over to the nearby beach for a day of digging in the sand and wading in the water.  The next day we rent some extra bikes along with a pull behind cart for Isabella.  We climb the steep hills, making our way to the south side of the island and the Painted Rock Beach.  It is a challenging hike down to the beach, but we are rewarded with the place virtually to ourselves.   

The south shore of Block Island from Painted Rock Beach

Mild waves roll into the rock and sand strewn shore, and the water looks particularly inviting to Isabella who has a blast playing with the smooth stones and climbing up on some of the rocks that provide a slide into the water. 

One happy little girl making the sign for "more".

We are sure she must be exhausted and will fall asleep on the ride back, but, no, she is wide awake and taking in all the sights.  We arrive back at the boat basin hot and hungry, so we plop Isabella into her stroller and head over to the Oar, the landmark Block Island bar and restaurant overlooking the basin.  Surely Isabella will take a nap now in the shade of an umbrella. But, no, she wants to be included in the party while we indulge in the Oar’s famous Mudsides along with lunch.  

Enjoying Mudslides and lunch at the Oar.

 It’s time to head back to town to meet the ferry back to Point Judith.  It is over a mile long walk, and we can’t believe Isabella is staying awake during the stroller ride. Finally we put everyone on the ferry and, later, receive the report that Isabella never fell asleep until the car ride home.  I guess we provided two days of significant mental stimulation for our princess.

We catch a nice breeze and make the 45 nautical mile hop over to Martha’s Vineyard.  Passing the iconic Gay Head Lighthouse which anchors the western tip of the island, towering high above the sea on cliffs of red clay,

Gay Head light - for once it isn't in the fog!

 we make our way to nearby Menemsha, a small and less frequented town on the Vineyard.  Menemsha is primarily a fishing village with a few summer cottages sprinkled nearby.   

The harbor at Menemsha filled primarily with fishing boats.

We take the dinghy back through a series of ponds that almost connect with the south shore of the island.  We pass by the wreckage of a ship that was used in the filming of “Jaws” and into areas full of marshes and bird life. 

An oystercatcher along the shore - we don't see these birds very often.

It seems pretty isolated here until sunset rolls around and hoards of people come out of the woodwork to the community beach to cheer the sun as it sets.  We see and hear it all from our anchorage outside the harbor.

And the sun sets on Menemsha.

The next day we catch a brisk breeze and positive currents as we sail, at up to 9 knots, to the eastern end of the island and one of our favorite destinations, Edgartown.  We initially anchor in the outer harbor but must move into the mooring field when a nor’easter blows in. 

The view towards the outer anchorage at Edgartown.

We meet the couple on the mooring next to us and are fascinated to find out that he is the owner of New England Boatworks, the boatyard that just completed the build of Rambler 88, one of the boats we saw start the Transatlantic Race.  He fills us in on the details of the experience, working with exotic materials and going along for some of the sea trails.  It is an amazing boat but apparently not all that comfortable. With its stiff ride and rapid acceleration, our neighbor said he much preferred a conventional sailboat for comfort.

It’s Junior Race Week here in Edgartown and junior sailing teams from all around New England have congregated for several days of racing.   

Junior sailors heading out to the race venue.

We have now moved back to the outer anchorage and are entertained by the sight of swarms of junior sailor deploying from the club right ashore of us and sailing out into the surrounding waters.  It seems like chaos, but the kids are having a blast while their worried parents trail along in dinghies and launches.  In addition, there are several other fleets of classic one design boats being raced by adults out in the Bay – truly a feast for the eyes from our cockpit. Meanwhile, the traffic in and out of Edgartown includes a constant flow of beautiful boats and mega-yachts for our viewing enjoyment.  

Magic Carpet, taking day trippers on a charter, is a boat we met in the Bahamas several years ago,

 Anchored nearby is Blue Guitar, previously owned by Eric Clapton and Rock.It, Herbie Hancock’s over 200 foot long yacht. At one point Foggy passes by.  This recently launched (June 2015) boat constructed of wood and exotic materials was designed by German Frers and built at the Brooklin Boat Yard in Maine, famous for their “Spirit of Tradition” boats.  But this boat is anything but traditional.  Frank Geary, the architect of the Disney addition to the Los Angelas Art Museum, has done the artistic side of the design work, and it is like nothing we have seen before.  Rumor has it, this is Geary’s own boat. 

Foggy motors past us.  The funny designs on the hull are actually fairly large windows set into the wood hull bit by bit.  The unique bow sprit is made of titanium bars woven into an assymetrical sculptural piece that matches the two binnacles at the steering stations.

Biking at Martha’s Vineyard is one of our favorite past times.  We love to wander through the streets of Edgartown past the many beautifully restored homes and gardens, many dating from the early 1800’s when Edgartown was home to wealthy whale ship captains and crews.

One of my favorite homes in Edgartown.

Everything is in bloom this time of year.

And we again take advantage of the many miles of paved bike trails, making our way up to Oak Bluffs, with the several mile long public beach to the east and ponds and marsh lands to the west.   

Wild flowers in bloom along a bike trail.

Here the architecture is more Victorian inspired, especially surrounding the large public park and in the Methodist Camp area. 

Cute Victorian homes at the Methodist Camp.

 

Band shell and gardens at the park in Oak Bluffs.

We have been waiting for the right conditions to head to Maine.  Almost daily, a front exits the coast making the 140 mile passage a bit difficult.  We finally find the least bad weather window and depart Edgartown at first light.  Unlike other trips to Maine, we decide to forego the Cape Cod Canal and head northeast from Martha’s Vineyard, around the eastern shore of the Cape and then directly to Maine.  As we were warned, we find dense fog at Pollock’s Rip at the Cape’s elbow and make our way slowly under fog horn.  When the fog finally clears we are treated to a whale extravaganza. Minke, Finbacks, and Humpbacks (and probably a Right Whale or two, but we couldn’t make a positive identification) are everywhere, some in groups of three or more.  We begin to loose count and are unable to catch it all on camera.   

One humpback flips its tail while two other school nearby.

One Humpback surfaces right next to the boat and we can smell its “fish breath”. Several more are a ways off, standing vertical in the water, one with its mouth wide open to allow gulls to pick away at food debris.  And believe me, Humpbacks have REALLY large mouths. We have never seen anything like this.  A bit later a group of dolphins join us, jumping clear out of the water at our bow. Fortunately, before sunset the Cetacean show comes to an end, as we don’t want to encounter these huge creatures in the dark.  While I’m on watch, a front comes through during the night with the wind direction changing 180 degrees and wind piping up to 28 knots for a minute or two.  We manage to handle it with minimal stress and are able to catch a bit more sleep before day dawns off the coast of Maine with a dense fog and no wind.  Again we motor with the fog horn blaring, eyes straining to pick out lobster pots in minimal visibility.  Fortunately, there are few pots to be found and once the fog clears we are welcomed to Maine and Monhegan Island with a beautiful clear blue sky.

New England in Our Sights

It has become very hot in the Chesapeake, and we are anxious to get under way.  With all appointments completed, we head north in the Bay in 90+ degree weather under power as there is no wind.  Add daytime heat to the heat generated by the engine and you can only imagine how unpleasant it has become.  Tidal currents are in our favor, so we suffer on, transiting the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal and head out into Delaware Bay.  At sunset the temperatures begin to moderate and the ever present flies descend – not as bad as in previous years since now, after several weeks, we seem to have swatted the last one. We round Cape May just before sunrise and continue up the New Jersey coast, reaching Sandy Hook and the entrance into New York harbor just after sunset.  We are tired but considerably cooler and looking forward to a peaceful night’s sleep at anchor. 

The next day we must wait until 2 pm for the currents to change and allow us to scoot through the Verrazano Narrows and up the East River, at times reaching 11 knots of speed over the ground while passing the spectacular skyline of one of the world’s iconic cities. 

Looking downstream on the East River with the Statue of Liberty in the distance.

We pull into the welcoming harbor of Port Washington at the western end of Long Island Sound and pick up one of their free mooring balls. The next morning we indulge in one of my favorite grocery stops – the large Stop and Shop which actually has a dinghy dock right on the harbor.  Restocked, we decide to head back to the Sound and work our way eastward to Port Jefferson.  The wind is minimal although the day is overcast.  We can see the look on cruising friends’ faces who are moored next to us.  They are tempted to join us, but it is a good thing they decided otherwise.  Immediately upon reaching the Sound, the wind switches 180 degrees (on the nose) and pipes up into the mid twenties.  Our wind instruments provide a graphing capability, and the wind speed graph show a line going directly up, confirming that we made the wrong choice. We are in for a pounding, and we cut our losses by turning into the well sheltered anchorage at Northport in an ever thickening fog. 

Come morning, things have greatly improved, and we continue on to Port Jefferson with a sufficiently early arrival to allow us to explore the town and have a delightful “linner” (combination of lunch and dinner) on the dock overlooking the harbor.

We are headed to the Thimble Islands, a geologically interesting section of the Connecticut coast just east of New Haven.  Our friends, Ted and Sally, have a mooring there which they graciously have allowed us to use.  We look forward to spending two days with them as they guide us through their home waters.  It is a lovely area that reminds us somewhat of Maine, with numerous pink granite islands sporting beautiful summer homes and outlying barren isles with cottages.   

Out buildings and landscaping on one of the most developed islands in the Thimbles.

And the polar opposite - a cottage on stilts build into a rocky outcropping.

We take a local tour boat ride and hear about the natural history of the area.  The following day our friends take us into New Haven to walk through the grounds of Yale University and visit the Peabody Gallery, famous for its collection of dinosaur fossils. 

A stroll amongst the dinosaurs - the brontosaurus turned apatosaurus, and now, again as of a few weeks ago, renamed brontosaurus, towers above the others.

It has been a fun and informative reunion with cruising friends who were sadly unable to venture south this winter.

We are off to a Seven Seas Cruising Association Gam in Essex, CT, about five miles up the scenic Connecticut River from the Sound.  The Gam is held in two adjoining yacht clubs, and we are welcome to use their facilities.  As with other gams, we alternate educational opportunities with socializing with fellow cruisers. Speakers include weather guru Chris Parker, Sara and Monty Lewis, the developers of the Explorer Chartbooks for the Bahamas, the bible for Bahamas cruisers, friends Scott and Kitty on Tamure who have done two circumnavigations, and our friend Marymarie, a relatively new cruiser who gave an outstanding presentation on the transition to full time cruising.  

In one seminar on safety we even deployed a liferaft.

 No visit to Essex is complete without strolling through this quaint New England village with its century or so federal style homes and the ritual Monday night sea shanties at the Griswold Inn, built in 1776.

A typical New England scene - the park in central Essex overlooking a cove with swans.

We depart for Fisher’s Island, an island at the eastern end of Long Island Sound that purportedly is VERY exclusive.  We take a rental mooring in the harbor and head into the marina to pay.  

From our mooring, a local boats sails into the harbor on a quiet evening.

 They are happy to take our money, but we are not allowed to dock there.  Rather, there is a dinghy dock at the yacht club at the other end of the harbor.  We have no problem tying up there and take our bikes ashore to explore.  We head west along the shore road and see nice but not overwhelming houses.    

A home and stone fence along the accessible roads

At that end of the island we find a school and ferry dock with one closed restaurant and wonder where any development might be.  Heading east along the south shore, we navigate around a golf course with million dollar views towards the Atlantic and the famous Race Rock Lighthouse.   

The southwestern shore of Fisher's Island with Race Rock Light in the background.

Further on we discover a bike trail, but in a short distance it angles back to the road where there is a guard house.  We stop to ask permission to proceed and are informed that the remainder of the island is closed to all except the residents.  Yes, this must be exclusive section of the island.  The next day, from the water, we see huge mansions dotting the rolling hills; mansions that don’t wish to be subjected to the prying eyes of sightseers. We have been told that one would recognize the names of many of the landholders.

Our next stop is a mooring in the village of Noank, CT., just down the Mystic River from Mystic proper.   

The attractive lighthouse in Noank at the entrance to the Mystic River.

The view of the village of Noank from our mooring.

As aficionados of traditional boats, we can’t pass up Mystic Seaport’s annual wooden boat show.  We have tickets good for two days, so we bike into Mystic and spend a few hours, the day before the show opens, enjoying the Seaport’s permanent exhibits. The whaling vessel, Charles Morgan, dominates the setting.  It has recently undergone a five year restoration culminating in a cruise around New England for several weeks last summer.  The cruise was undertaken for historic and scientific reasons as it has been over 100 years since any whaling ship has been in service.  We had a wonderful visit with one of the deck hands from the voyage who recounted fascinating information gleaned from the experience.  The next day we opt to take the dinghy into Mystic (there are steep hills between Noank and Mystic that I hadn’t remembered!), giving us the opportunity to view the boats on display from the water side. 

Freedom in the foreground with the Charles Morgan behind

To our surprise, one of the visiting boats is the 104 foot Trumpy fantail motor yacht, Freedom.  It is the sister ship to the presidential yacht Sequoia.  Immaculately restored, she is open for boarding, something unheard of at most shows.  We make a beeline to board before the crowds arrive.  I have entered the world of Gatsby – with varnish so glossy that it functions as mirrors, gleaming brass fittings and trim, and elegantly upholstered furniture. 

The dining room with saloon behind in the interior of Freedom - I am checking out a book on the history of the vessel.

The fantail seating area - just the place for a sunset cruise.

This is how the very small “other half” lives, and it is a treat for us to have a glimpse. Many other boats are also on display from traditional sailboats from the Herreshoff era, to work boats, to beautifully restored launches and motor boats. 

Another perfectly restored gem

It is all a feast for the eyes.  But, perhaps the highpoint of our visit to Mystic is a dinner we enjoyed with son Bryan and his family who live nearby.   

Beth, Bryan, and Isabella join us for dinner in Mystic.

It has been six months since we’ve seen our new grand daughter, and we just can’t take our eyes off her.  Fortunately, we’ll be seeing them all on multiple occasions over the next couple of weeks. (And then there’s the description of what happens when a 10 month old mistakenly takes a bite of a jalapeno dill pickle, but that’s another story!)

So, we’re off to Newport for a little over a week’s stay.  We enter the harbor just before a significant front is due to arrive and have most of the anchorage to ourselves, allowing for plenty of scope and swing room when the winds pipe up during the middle of the night. The next day we notice an unusual number of tall masts in the area of the Newport Shipyard, and, out in the water of Narragansett Bay, sailboats with high tech carbon sails are whizzing by. We have arrived just days before the start of the Transatlantic Race 2015, and the shipyard is full of the multinational fleet.  There are a slew of Open 40’s and 60’s but the eye catchers are two newly launched boats – Rambler 88, the new replacement for George David’s Rambler 100 which holds the transatlantic monohull record, and Comanche, a 100 foot racing machine, which is considered the likely winner and soon to be new record holder. These are cutting edge boats with canting keels, foils, and black carbon sails – quite a contrast to what we had just seen in Mystic. 

A view of Comanche owned by Silicon Valley billionaire, Jim Clark - note the extremely wide transom and foiling daggerboards

And a few slips down is another of Clark's toys, the 136 foot J-boat replica Hanuman which races on the traditional boat circuit.

Our anchor spot right on the channel out of Newport, gives us ring side seats as the boats come and go from their practice sessions with their professional paid crews. We will stay in Newport through the 4^th of July weekend, giving us time to visit with family, attend to chores, and, for Burt, re-bed a leaking window that he had just done a few weeks ago in Annapolis.  Yes, the old adage still stands true; cruising is fixing things in exotic places.