Get Thee an Ark

We’ve got the perfect location in Annapolis – a mooring ball right off the boat show and the Naval Academy. Life should be great, right?  But, not so.  It is raining cats and dogs.  It is a good thing we are afloat and not on land in Annapolis as there are daily urban flood warnings. Sometimes the pounding rain seems like we’re besieged by a stream from a fire hose.  And it keeps on for days.  The Sailboat Show opens, and we volunteer to work the Seven Seas Cruising Association booth for the first morning.  Just getting there takes some creativity as we need to ford flooding water about a foot deep.  The booth gets very little business as the show goers are spending their time inside the big tents where water leaks through but at least doesn’t saturate a person. The traditional sundowner on Pussar’s deck gets a definite thumbs down, and we take a soggy dinghy ride back to the boat to dry off and warm up.  During the following days the rain moderates but never lets up.  There is a low pressure system overhead that just doesn’t want to move off the coast.  Rain totals will be close to 10 inches for this miserable week.  Out of desperation we head back to the show as visitors, dressing in foul weather gear and flip flops to visit some of the boats.  It is worth the effort as we have an opportunity to see an 80+ foot Swan, a Chris White designed catamaran with rotating wing masts (we visit just on the heels of James Spithill, darn!), several big Hylases and a 70 foot Gunboat catamaran.  We also pick up some bargains for future boat projects. (Will we ever be done?)

Monday finally dawns rainless, which is a good thing as we are getting new anchor chain delivered compliments of West Marine standing by their products and replacing our chain which rusted out way too soon. It should be an easy task but doing this via dinghy gets a bit more complicated.  We load the primary anchor (73 lbs) and 120 feet of rusty chain into the dinghy, take it to a landing, unload it on to the sidewalk, and wait for the delivery truck.  When it arrives, we move the new chain to the sidewalk, measure it out into 25 foot increments in order to mark it, and load the old chain into the truck.  Once the new chain is marked, it is attached to the anchor and fed back into the dinghy. When we return to Exuberant, the chain is attached to new rope rode which is also marked and then all is fed back into the chain locker, being careful not to abrade the dinghy in the process.  Burt estimates it will take about an hour – reality is that it takes a good chunk out of the day. 

Monday is the last day of the boat show and the bewitching hour strikes at 5 pm.  The gun sounds and work boats spring into action.  The outer show boats begin leaving while dock sections are removed to allow inner boats to initiate their escape.  In less than two hours several hundred sailboats have passed by our boat in a carefully choreographed parade.  We witness the chaos from the bow of the boat, wine in hand, with the backdrop of a lovely sunset. It is spectacular and, for many, the highpoint of the boat show.  

The big Gunboat is the first to cast off the docks just after 5 pm

 

The 80+ foot Swan cruises right off our bow on its way out of Annapolis

For the next six days we will be traveling from sunrise to sunset, trying to get south as fast as possible.  And an interesting thing happens that is indicative of what life as cruisers is like.  Over the past two years we have made many friends within this small community and now we all coalesce with similar goals of getting south.  The first night we make it to the mouth of the Potomac River where we anchor next to Margaret and Ken on Rocking B. We met them in Marathon and the Bahamas last year and enjoyed Ken’s talented keyboard playing at many a gathering. They are headed to the Caribbean this year with the Salty Dog Rally, so we bid them farewell.  The next night we anchor near Deltaville, VA to visit our friends Claire and Andrew on Eye Candy.  They are the Australian couple  we met during the summer of 2012, and they will also be participating in the Salty Dog and then head across the Pacific to Australia. So this, sadly, will be our last evening with them.   

The Eye Candy Crew - from left, Claire, Deb (Andrew's sister who will help crew to the Caribbean) and Andrew - we will miss them!

The following day we transit Norfolk where it is always thrilling to pass by the huge naval ships along the river.  

We pass by these two aircraft carriers in our dinghy - we are certainly feeling small.

 We anchor near Brenda and Bob on Pandora.  We met them in the Bahamas last year.  They join us to go to the Commodore Theater for dinner and a movie.  This art deco theater has been lovingly restored with the regular seats replaced by tables and comfortable upholstered chairs, and we watch the excellent first run movie, “Captain Phillips”, an appropriate movie for a seagoing crew. 

The Commodore Theater - the mural depicts the industry of the area in the 1930 's - ship building and aeronautics

The alarm is set for 6 am for an early start, but it seems lighter than normal.  Look at what has just pulled in across the river from our anchorage!

The next day we have a difficult morning transiting the bridges and single lock at the beginning of the ICW.  We manage to arrive at one bridge with over 20 boats, large and small, awaiting an opening.  Just upstream of us a tug with a very long tow of pipe has occupied the lock for over an hour, putting the scheduled openings out of whack. We mill around with even more boats for 45 minutes awaiting the lock opening. It is announced that not all of the boats will fit in the lock at once so the stragglers will have to wait another hour for the next opening.  Now the pushing really gets out of hand.  We hear much yelling although none of the boats we can see have hit.  It aggravates us as we were early at the first bridge and were first in line – now we are somewhere close to the back as we want to maintain some room around us during this feeding frenzy. As the lock doors open and the boats queue into line, I announce, in a somewhat loud, obnoxious voice, to a nearby boat that was also originally at the front of the line, that we have been victims of some very rude boating behavior.  Several of the nearby boats overhear, and, feeling embarrassed, a few let us in ahead, making us one of the last boats able to enter the lock.  Nerves are frayed and we tie up on a nearby wall on the other side of the lock, just behind Marty and Matt on Runaway who we met our first season in Vero Beach. It has taken us 5 ½ hours to transit 11 miles.

The following two days are spent transiting a remote section of the ICW through northern North Carolina. Here cell coverage and internet are mostly non-existent.  The first night we drop anchor just north of Albemarle Sound where there is no sign of life on shore.  The next night we stop at an equally remote bay just south of Bellehaven with no other boats around.  These are beautiful, tranquil locations but places where most people won’t stop. 

Sunrise off Slade Creek with "smoke on the water".  This time of year our mornings can be a bit chilly. 

A typical sight along this portion of the ICW

We re-enter civilization when we drop into River Dunes Resort for two nights.  This is a luxury residential and marina development, just outside of Oriental, NC that is struggling due to the real estate bust.  They gave us a two nights for the price of one voucher at the boat show, and we intend to redeem it. When we pull into our dock we realize that Chris and Craig on Tilt are two slips down.  We met them early in our cruising adventure and see them in the Bahamas. River Dunes puts out the red carpet for us.  We bike around the development that goes for miles, admiring the few beautiful homes that have been built and the lovely landscaping.  We luxuriate in steam showers and sit along the terraced pool and hot tub complex.  The resort puts on a delicious cruisers’ dinner of lasagna in the club house dining room attended by around 50 visiting boaters. Joining our table are Bev and David on Cloverleaf. An elderly couple who have transitioned from a sailboat to a trawler, we met them through SSCA where they are legends within the cruising community.  And that evening we gather around a fire pit to visit with some of the other cruisers before the mosquitoes drive us back to the boat. The next day we do boat chores and a little bicycling. That evening Freedom with Chris and Ed aboard pulls in, and we have them over for Happy Hour.  We first met Freedom the summer of 2010 when we both were cruising the North Channel of Lake Huron.   Now, they, too, have transitioned to the Atlantic coast.

So, we have traveled about 320 nautical miles since leaving Annapolis. And, on all but two evenings, we have been in the company of boaters we know and have spent time with in the past.  This is not meant to be an exercise in name dropping, but, rather, it is an attempt to illustrate the closeness of the cruising community. The bottom line is that cruisers who make an effort are never lonely.  It is a small community of people with similar interests and fascinating, diverse backgrounds.  These people become our friends, our support, our community. It is hard to bid a permanent farewell to those who are leaving us, but we know others will follow to take their places.

Looking in Other Directions

Our cruising life this past month is not following our typical pattern.  Once we arrive in Newport the focus is on family and plans for our son Bryan’s upcoming wedding.  We do take a little time off for several bike rides along Newport’s incredible Ocean Drive, we tour the Elms, another of Newport’s restored mansions, and enjoy the annual classic boat race and parade that take place right off our anchorage near Fort Adams.  

The stately Elms, another of Newport's impressive mansions

We are in a hurry, though, to get south to the Chesapeake.  Tropical weather has a knack for fouling up plans, but this year we seem most fortunate as there is nothing threatening on the horizon.  We dash down the length of Long Island Sound in two days, transit New York City on a favorable current, 

Coming into New York City - it is much easier on a boat than in a car, as we discovered a few weeks later.

and set off down the New Jersey coast for an overnight passage, again accompanied by biting flies – perhaps this is a New Jersey thing.   We arrive in Cape May and are immediately beckoned by friends from several trawlers to join them on a tour of Cape May’s Happy Hours. Sleep deprived, we follow along as our group bikes through the town stopping at pre-selected watering holes. The moral, trawler folks sure know how to have a good time.  We get a few hours of sleep and pull anchor at the unheard of hour of 2 am to begin the trip around Cape May and up the Delaware River.  Why would anyone leave at such a ridiculous hour? Because, timing the currents in the Delaware and subsequently in the C&D Canal is essential to a pleasant trip.  We really nail the currents this time, sometimes seeing up to three knots of push, and pull into Still Pond in the northern reaches of the Chesapeake for a well deserved night’s rest.  The next day it is an easy hop down to Annapolis.

Our time in Annapolis is dedicated to boat projects and some serious cleaning.  After a couple of days at a mooring ball, we move down to the South River and a dock.  Give us water, electricity, and a rental car, and it is amazing what can be accomplished.  In the span of one week, the boat is scrubbed inside and out.  Cupboards are emptied and cleaned; woodwork is wiped down in an attempt to rid ourselves of this summer’s accumulation of mildew.  Topsides are waxed, the cockpit cleaned of our collection of dead flies and assorted remnants of summer happy hours. We touch up some varnish work. The canvas is removed, cleaned of mildew, restitched, and restitched again by a professional as we discover all of the thread has rotted out in the UV. (Moral – all canvas that will see tropical UV should be stitched with Gore-tex thread.)  The interior cushions and rug are steamed cleaned.  And finally, after inventorying all our supplies and provisions, we restock for the winter, filling every conceivable spot with what we assume are necessities. There are always some miscalculations, though, and I suspect we have enough toilet paper aboard for several years.

Exhausted, we depart for Narragansett, Rhode Island, this time by rental car.  Beth and Bryan are to be married on September 21, and we leave several days early to stock our rental house and tie up last minute details.  It is interesting driving inland of the path we so recently took along the shore.  Names on the Interstate signs remind us of the coast we know so well.  It is a wonderful extended weekend with family arriving from all over the country.  In our free time we enjoy taking them to sights we have enjoyed during our cruising – no one from our family is very familiar with the New England coast.  One day we head to Boston with the grandsons (ages 3 & 6) to visit the New England Aquarium and go whale watching.  The tour company we choose claims to see whales 99% of the time – we managed to be the 1% exception.  The day is beautiful, though, and we enjoy the cruise out of the Boston Harbor and on to the Stillwagen Banks. Another day we take a group over to Newport to see what lurks there in the post season.  Luxury sailboats and mega-yachts populate the harbor as they undertake preparations for heading south to the Caribbean.

How about this beauty, getting a few touch ups before the trip south

Saturday dawns with questionable weather for the wedding.  We chew our nails and fortunately the cold front doesn’t pass through until well into the night.  It is a spectacular early fall day worthy of this special celebration.  The vows are exchanged overlooking Narragansett Bay, and we dance into the night with the sound of waves nearby.   

What an amazing setting for a wedding!

The overnight rain clears by mid-morning, and we take the ferry over to Block Island to bike around this beautiful island.  The summer crowds have left, and we often have the roads to ourselves.  The grandsons enjoy riding on tag-a-long bikes through the hilly terrain and hiking down the steep cliffs to a placid ocean.   

The cliffs on the south side of Block Island

It has been an incredible and memorable weekend.

We drive back to Annapolis, and put a few finishing touches on the boat.  We are now in the final days of the America’s Cup Finals and what better place to watch these exciting races than in Annapolis, also know as “a drinking town with a sailing problem”.  For three afternoons we head over to the Boatyard, a well know sailor hang out and watch the races on their widescreen TV’s. Each day it gets more crowded and rowdy, and by the final day I find myself squashed into a corner while Burt is pinned on the other side of the room.  The crowd is electric and by the time Oracle has crossed the finish line, we are all close to hysteria.  Who knew that watching sailboat racing on TV could be this exciting? 

We leave our comfortable dock, a real treat for those who are almost always at anchor, and head 15 miles south to the Rhode River and the site of this year’s Seven Seas Cruising Association’s Annapolis Gam.  Two years ago, when we attended our first Gam after leaving the Great Lakes, we knew no one.  Now we are definitely part of the cruising community and greet so many friends that we have met traveling both north and south.  This year we welcome Andrea and Mike Ogline who have just arrived from our home club in Sandusky to begin their own sailing adventure on the east coast. The Gam features educational seminars and an assortment of social events, and the weekend passes in a blur.  We move further south to meet up with some cruising friends that have spent the last month in Baltimore. Our two boats are the only ones anchored along the Strand at Oxford, MD.  We share some dinners together and bike around this charming, historic town. 

Cutts and Case is a boatyard that builds classic motor and sail yachts - the launch in the window, Foto, was restored here. Originally, it ferried Rosenfeld, famous for his black and white sailboat photos now preserved at Mystic Seaport, on his shoots.

And we just sit on the boat enjoying the beautiful and peaceful setting.  At this point we need an opportunity to decompress after such a busy month.

Exuberant at anchor for sunset on the Tred Avon River, Oxford, MD

But, decompression can only last so long, so we return to Annapolis.  It is Boat Show Time and for some lucky reason, we are able to snag a mooring ball just off the Naval Academy and the Boat Show venue. The Power Boat Show is first and from our mooring we watch the last of the big power boats jockey into their docks.  This will be the antithesis of our Oxford experience – crowds and noise will surround us, but location is everything, and we are prepared to spend the next ten days immersed  this boating mecca. We will finish up a few projects as necessary supplies and contractors are close at hand, work the opening morning of the sailboat show at the SSCA booth, do a little shopping at the show, meet up with friends, and just enjoy the carnival atmosphere before we begin our migration south.  

Late Summer Change of Direction

We’ve been in Maine for almost a month, but we start to sense a change of seasons.  Dry leaves begin to scatter on the ground, and a few of the trees are showing a little color.  Fall comes early to Downeast Maine, and we are getting the message that it is time to head southwest.

We are not rushing though, but rather taking time to hop through the islands, visiting harbors that are new to us.  First stop is Buckle Harbor on Swan Island.  It is remote and difficult to enter, but we are rewarded with a protected anchorage with only a few other boats and glorious views back to the mountains of Acadia. 

The view from Buckle Harbor - we're not that far from Acadia at this point

The next day takes us through the Deer Island Thoroughfare to an anchorage amongst the small islands of Merchant Row.   

One of the Camden schooners plies the waters of the Thoroughfare - look closely at all the d___ lobster pots

We tuck in between Camp Island and the colorfully named Devil’s Island and Hell’s Half Acre. Come low tide a multitude of rocky islets and ledges appear – after all we are in the land of ten foot tides.  We delight in climbing around this pink granite playground. The area is known for its granite quarries which have supplied the building materials for many famous buildings and bridges in Boston and New York City. 

A vista over the Camp Island anchorage

Burt tests his strength on the rocky shore at Camp Island

About a mile away by dinghy is the town of Stonington. This is an interesting place if you are intrigued by lobsters.  Stonington has the distinction of supplying more lobsters to market than any other port in Maine.  Three large piers dominate the waterfront with trucks and cranes carting away the day’s catch. While located on the south side of Deer Island, there is a bridge connecting the north side of the island to the mainland, thus allowing easy transportation of the catch to the northeast and world markets. And if there is any question about priorities, lobster boats get the moorings closest to town, other commercial boats come next, and pleasure boats are at the far extremes.  

Stonington's working waterfront

Looking back at Stonington at low tide

The place rings with authenticity, and it is here that Burt purchases a very interesting book on the anthropology and sociology of the lobstering industry.

Looking down one of the side streets in Stonington

Our next hop takes us to an anchorage near North Haven on an island of the same name.  In contrast to Stonington, North Haven’s heritage evolves from summer residents.   

An interesting house at North Haven that is said to emulate a ship

There are few lobster boats in the harbor, but rather a sizable fleet of historic wooden racing dinghies. We stroll through the town and dinghy along the waterfront.  

North Haven's not so working waterfront

Back at our anchorage, a creek meanders off the bay.  It is a protected hurricane hole with a number of local boats moored inside along with a very stylish houseboat. The entire shoreline is unoccupied conservancy land. 

A well maintained houseboat in an idyllic anchorage

Enough poking around – we head back to Camden for a day of laundry and grocery shopping utilizing the marina’s courtesy car, a luxury that I could easily become accustomed to. The next day we position ourselves at Tenants Harbor for the following day’s 24 hour passage to Provincetown. The entrance to the harbor is guarded by the extensive compound belonging to Jamie Wyeth. 

Jamie Wyeth's island at the entrance to Tenants Harbor - he has restored the historical lighthouse on the island

The surrounding barren topography is indicative of the settings of so many of Jamie’s and Andrew’s paintings. Tenants Harbor is a bit of a backwater lobstering village. There isn’t much here except lobster boats and a fisheries cooperative dock. But, we have come to meet up with Polly and Denny Davis, friends from Mansfield, who have been coming here to their cottage for over forty years.  They join us for Happy Hour on our boat, experiencing perhaps a different perspective on immersing oneself in coastal Maine.

The next morning, we spend several hours passing through the last of the lobster pots, probably the only thing we won’t miss about Maine. There is no wind, as has been the case for the entire month, and we motor over glassy seas with an almost full moon during the night. After midnight wind does begin to materialize, and by the time we have reached the protection of Cape Cod we are seeing gusts up to 20 knots. With flat seas and full sails we have a glorious hour or so of sailing before screaming into Provincetown Harbor. It does not take long until we are contacted by cruising friends Jim and Bently. They have spent the summer in Provincetown and will be playing guitar and banjo in town that afternoon.  We meet up with them and enjoy their talented renditions of traditional maritime songs. 

Bently and Jim entertain us on the streets of Provincetown - we enjoy their music at many locations during the year.

As usual, Provincetown is crowded with tourists, but we leave the congestion to bike out to the Cape Cod National Seashore.  

Just try to ride you bike (or drive a car) through these streets

 An asphalt bike path winds for miles through the steep dunes to the beach at Race Point.  It is a challenging ride for someone with knee problems, but I make it and we celebrate with a picnic lunch on the beach.  The next day we head off on the same ride but I opt to stop short of the hilly part for coffee at the new park concession while Burt knocks himself out again. 

Bicycling through the dunes with the shore and restored historic lifesaving station in the distance

 

It is about another seventy miles to Newport, and we do the trek in two days as currents in the Cape Cod Canal dictate the schedule.  After a late afternoon transit of the canal we anchor in Nasketucket Bay off the western shore of Buzzards Bay, and the next morning in dense fog, pick our way towards Newport.  It is especially harrowing to weave through the traffic of Narragansett Bay.  At one point, with probably only 200 feet of visibility we find ourselves in the milling crowd of a fleet of Farr 40’s, awaiting better visibility and the start to their races for the World Championship. That was a close one! The fog lightens as we enter the harbor and anchor right off Fort Adams.  But, later that afternoon after taking the dinghy into town, we return to the boat again in thick fog. Where’s that GPS when we need it?!?

A large fleet of Shields sloops race right off our anchorage

Marvelous Maine/Miserable Maine Part 2 – Acadia National Park

Acadia National Park is the jewel of the Maine coastline.  Along with its dramatic coastline, it features the highest coastal mountains north of Rio de Janeiro. It is no wonder that it is the second most visited National Park in the United States.  It is high season so we have to put up with an excessive amount of tourists, including the occasional arrival of large cruise ships. But, there are ways to cope with this, especially if you are visiting the park by boat.

We enter the park at quiet Northeast Harbor and have an afternoon to explore before predicted bad weather hits the next morning.  

Exuberant, just to the right of the pine tree, on her float at Northeast  Harbor

 We knew it would rain, but we never expected so much rain.  Everyone in the harbor hunkers down, appearing only occasionally to bail out their dinghies.  During a brief lull in the downpour, we lug laundry into the small village, thinking it is a good chore to complete on an otherwise worthless day.  But, it rains so hard that the town losses about half its electricity.  I’m in the dryer stage when this occurs, and for some reason, half the dryers lose their power, but not in any logical order.  Random ones are working; others are down for the count. We doubt electrical codes are closely followed here.  Hours later, with dry clothes finally in tow, we get another break in the rain and hurry back to the boat. It is more of the same the next day but we get dense fog mixed in.  At times you can’t see anything over 100 feet away. Several times we run the heater on the boat to take off the chill and dry out the interior. Sadly, we don’t seem to be winning the mildew battle. Our only consolation is that we have been invited to a neighboring boat for dinner.  The wife is a gourmet cook, having studied with Julia Child at one point, and the food, wine, and interesting conversation more than compensate for the miserable weather.

The weather gods must have flipped a switch as the next morning dawns clear and dry, and the forecast is for this to continue.  We begin our regiment of biking and hiking through the park.  We visit two different gardens in the Northeast Harbor area. The Thulya Japanese garden is at sea level and features an extensive collection of Azalias that are now past bloom.    

The Thulya Japanese Gardens without the azalias

 A hike up the nearby cliffs take you to the Thulya Terraces Gardens that are home to many perennials that are at their peak. One person mentions that the growing season in Maine is so short that everything blooms at the same time, and that is certainly apparent here.

Thulya Terraces Gardens - certainly worth the hike!

 

We hike along the Ocean Path between Sand Beach and Otter Point.  The trail follows the cliffs and shore lines, providing panoramic views of the ocean and interior mountains.

Hiking along the rugged coast near Otter Point

We treat ourselves to lunch on the lawn of the Jordon Pond House, famous for their popovers and homemade strawberry jam. The meal lives up to our expectations, but the view over this pristine mountain lake is even better.   

The view from the lawn of the Jordon Pond House - the Bubbles are in the background

Our favorite pastime, though, is biking the many miles of carriage paths through the interior of the park.  Funded and designed by John D. Rockefeller, Jr. starting almost 100 years ago, they give access to the park interior that is rarely visited by most of the tourists.  We return to many of the trails we enjoyed last year and take a few new ones, including the mis-named, ten mile “Around the Mountain” trail that should more accurately be called the “Over the Mountains” trail. Burt does it twice; once was more than enough for my weary knees. The reward is spectacular vistas over all sides of Mt. Desert Island and some of its interior mountain lakes. And, as compensation for tolerating two straight days of rain, we have gushing streams and waterfalls along the way, and the scent of balsam permeates the air.   

One of the bridges along the Carriage Paths - each on is designed differently

The Waterfall Bridge on the Around the Mountain Carriage Trail

The actual waterfall upstream from the Waterfall Bridge

The view of Somes Sound from the Around the Mountain Trail

A descent on the trail with mountains in the background - this is where the going gets easier

Winding along the shores of Eagle Lake on the Carriage Trails

This year we decide to try some of the other harbors on Mt. Desert Island.  First stop is the bustling town of Bar Harbor. This is the center of park activities, and it is packed full of tourists with crowded sidewalks and gridlocked traffic.  The park offers free bus service (with bike racks) throughout the island. We use it extensively, but most people still stick to their cars and all the traffic and parking hassles.  If you like crowds, t-shirt shops and fudge shops, the town of Bar Harbor will suit you just fine. But, out at our mooring ball amongst the many lobster boats, the chaos subsides, and we enjoy the views with the mountains on one side and islands dotting the bay on the other.  We get one more day of the Maine “Miserable” with fog so thick that we take our handheld GPS on the dinghy to find our way into the docks and back.  The fog is fascinating – it flows like a liquid over and around the little islands, something like a fluid dynamics experiment in a physics class. 

Fog rolling over one of the Porcupine Islands. Rock in foreground was deposited by the glaciers

When the fog lightens, we stroll along the Ocean Walk that runs between some of the few remaining Bar Harbor mansions (most were burned down during a huge fire in the 1930”s) and the craggy coastline.

Home along the Ocean Path built by the Astors

The skies clear again, and we are assured of a week of outstanding weather, so we head further down east to the Schoodic Peninsula. A portion of this peninsula is part of Acadia National Park, but very few people visit this section as it is over an hour drive from Bar Harbor.  We pick up a mooring at the exclusive Winter Harbor Yacht Club and quickly hop the bus for a ride to Schoodic Point.  It is hard to say what was most enjoyable about the experience.  We are the only visitors on the half hour bus ride; all the other passengers (and there aren’t very many) are locals who ride the bus for social reasons.  They bring their dogs for a ride, prod the driver for the local gossip, and visit with their neighbors.  It is a downeast version of Lake Wobegone, and we have difficulty stifling our giggles.  Our destination, the Point, is a huge expanse of rock strewn coastline.  It is a voyage into a geologist’s lexicon: granite, basalt, intrusions, accidentals, moraines, dikes. We climb over the rocks, watch the crashing waves, and wonder at the few wildflowers that cling to pockets of dirt. 

Schoodic Point

An example of a Basalt intrusion into the surrounding pink granite

Upon returning to the boat (same man and dog are still riding the bus loop), we head to the yacht club for showers and an opportunity to visit this historic building.  Constructed in 1890, it provides an excellent example of cottage architecture with the cedar shingled exterior clinging to a rocky cliff and a huge native stone fireplace the focal point of the interior.  The furniture is all of the era, and the window panes are the original hand crafted glass.  The yacht club and neighboring golf and tennis clubs are the focal point of the Grindstone Neck community, founded over 100 years ago by wealthy east coasters as an alternative to the bustle of Bar Harbor.   

Winter Harbor Yacht Club with its fleet of Winter Harbor 20's in the foreground

We take a walk and estimate only 30 – 50 homes are on this exclusive peninsula, many of which are huge and excellent examples of cottage architecture, with expansive sunrooms and cedar sided towers overlooking large lawns that slope down to the cliffs and ocean. Between the homes, large swaths of land have been left undeveloped.

The final leg of our Acadia adventure takes us along the southern coast of Mt. Desert Island to Somes Sound, considered the only fjord on the North American Atlantic coast.  

Cruising along the south shore of Mt. Desert Island (Acadia)

It is a lovely three mile cruise up and back, but if one expects to see a Norwegian style fjord, they will be disappointed. We pick up a mooring ball at nearby Southwest Harbor, home to the Hinkley Company that manufactures classic sail and power boats.  We explore the quaint town and are invited for dinner at a friend’s boat along with another couple.  We have all arrived at Southwest Harbor from different directions, and the conversation revolves around everyone’s summer cruise destinations.  The one couple has just returned from Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, and we prod them for details. It is said that Nova Scotia is what Maine used to be, and Newfoundland is what Nova Scotia used to be.  Our friends rave about their experiences and make us wonder if we need to head even further downeast next summer.