Monday, August 7

19.9 Nautical Miles | The Basin, New Meadows River

After a seemingly interminable, dreary spring and early summer, the 2006 cruise was finally here! Unfortunately, the weather forecast for the first day out was for 15-20 knots increasing to 20-25 knots and a 70% chance of severe thunderstorms in the afternoon. I almost put off departure, but decided that I wanted to at least be on the boat, so I headed down to the club, arriving at 0815 to see how things might develop.

Rain and Clouds, Winds and Seas

Almost immediately upon arrival at the boat, it began to rain. Ugh. I had checked the radar before leaving however, and it looked like any rain would be short lived, and indeed, the NOAA forecast called for clearing, hot and humid conditions throughout the day. So while the showers moved through, I finished stowing gear and prepping the boat for departure.

Soon the showers began to abate and I tucked in a reef and headed out, leaving the mooring at 0920. I hadn't decided yet on my destination for the day, but had several options programmed into the GPS, and I figured I'd decide when I saw what the conditions were like once I got outside the islands. It had been blowing at 15+ knots all night, so I expected a bit of a sea.

Zooooom!

I had a generally fast passage, with a favorable SW breeze. Had a nice ride out through Chandler's Cove, along Hope Island, across Broad Sound and out to Little Mark Island, maintaining speeds of 5.5-6.5 knots the whole way. There was a real short, steep chop through the little passage at Little Mark, and outside the islands I found a relatively sizeable sea running. I'm poor at estimating sea-size, but since the horizon was well-obscured when I was in the troughs, I guessed that the seas were in the neighborhood of 5-7 feet.

I decided that since the seas were only likely to increase, I would take the inside route along Orr's and Bailey Islands to the Basin on the New Meadows River. I had wanted to take advantage of the favorable wind direction and get further along, but figured I would be exhausted if I tried to sail all the way to Harmon Harbor on the Sheepscot River.

I had a dead run down along Orrs-Bailey, then had a nice sail across Quahog Bay and over the New Meadows River. I ran down the river to the narrow entrance to the Basin and rolled the jib to head in. There was enough wind that I thought I might actually be able to sail through the narrow opening and into the Basin proper, and was nearly able to do so, but towards the spot where the entrance turns sharply to port I lost my wind and was getting rapidly set by the current that was racing through.

Wind? In here?

I fired up the engine and motored through the entrance and across to my normal anchoring area near the couple of moored daysailors. I set the anchor and put the boat away and looked forward to the first afternoon of relaxing. It was, after all, only 1300!

Over the course of the afternoon, I was amazed at just how windy it was in the Basin. I've been there before on relatively windy days and found that it was usually still in there, even when it was blustery out in the bays. Still, there was no more than a light ripple on the water, despite gusts that must have approached 25 knots, so there was little to worry about.

It turned out to be fairly busy in there with perhaps a total of 15 boats, or so, anchoring over the course of the afternoon. Of course, one boat had to anchor ridiculously close, considering how huge the anchorage is, then proceed to run their engine/generator for 2 hours. A minor annoyance, really, but sheesh... there's room for 100 boats in there. Why anchor on top of me?

Must be my rugged good looks.

I was lucky not to get caught by any major thunderstorms, some of which were reportedly quite severe, with quarter-sized hail and winds in excess of 50 knots. I did watch one storm pass just to the north. The lightning was mostly hidden in the clouds, and each flash lit the clouds up with a deep red glow. Quite beautiful.

Overnight the wind did abate somewhat, and around 0030 a weak thunderstorm passed through, with a couple of rumbles of thunder and moderate rain.

Tuesday, August 8

42.9 Nautical Miles | Long Cove (Tenants Harbor)

The forecast was for 10-15 knots from the NW, with decreasing seas. I figured that for the first part of the trip, at least, the wind would not be too unfavorable, and I hoped to cover quite a few miles during the day.

Blustery Right From The Get-Go

I was up at about 0630, and after some coffee and a bagel I put the boat together and got ready to go. I had several routes programmed, so that I would be able to easily duck in to any number of harbors, depending on how the day progressed. By 0730 I was underway, and even before I got out of the Basin, it was clear that it was pretty fresh outside already. The trees surrounding the anchorage were all swaying strongly in the wind.

Outside I found that it was, in fact, quite fresh. I had judiciuosly tucked in a reef, and was glad immediately. I had a screaming run out the New Meadows River at 6.0+ knots under reefed main alone. The wind seemed generally to be OK, but there were some absolutely howling gusts that must have been pushing 30 knots. I had to gybe twice on the way out the river, and it was hairy both times. I was certainly glad to start rounding up around Bald Head and towards Cape Small.

Once I started to round up, I unfurled the jib, though leaving it partially furled. I had a really nice beam reach up to Cape Small, then had to harden up for the course that would lead basically all the way to Davis Straits on the far side of Muscongus Bay, some 18 or so miles distant. I settled in on my course, and found that I was on a close reach, but by no means close-hauled, which I was quite happy about.

I called Heather at that point to let her know that I was underway and that despite what the forecast might indicate, the conditions were not at all bad. I let her know that I hoped to get as far as Port Clyde, on the far side of Muscongus Bay and that I'd call her that night to let her know where I was.

Generally Glorious

The seas had indeed subsided over night, and as I sailed up toward Seguin, I found that the rollers coming in were gentle, and probably in the neighborhood of 3-4 feet. As they were right on the beam, they weren't at all uncomfortable, and I really started to enjoy the ride at 5.5+ knots. The sailing was glorious, with the sea sparkling under the dry NW wind and clearing skies. Most of the time the wind seemed in the 15 knot range, though there were occasional gusts that were probably up near 25 knots. The gusts were annoyingly strong, but seemed less and less frequent as the morning progressed.

Eventually, both the seas and the wind seemed to be decreasing. As I neared Damariscove Island, I unfurled the rest of the jib, and the combination of full 130 jib and single reef was just about perfect for the conditions. The perfect sailing continued up to about Pemaquid Point, at which point the wind seemed to ease up quite a bit. Soon boat speed had dropped under 3 knots, and I fired up the engine for a supplemental push. Just as I did so, a sudden gust came up that literally knocked the boat on her ear, with green water up to the deadlights on the cabin trunk! Books, pickles, and peanuts came flying out of the lockers to make an incredible mess of the cabin, and within moments the boat was back on her feet. A last gasp of the day's northwesterly, perhaps?

I motor sailed with both main and jib for about an hour or so but as I neared Eastern Egg Rock, the wind seemed to be filling in again and I shut the engine down. I had a great sail across to--and through--Davis Straight, then hardened up for a close-hauled course up to Port Clyde. I was pleased to find that I was able to just lay the marks on a single tack and on the way decided that I didn't really want to go into Port Clyde. I knew that the last stretch of the passage that I really dislike--from Mosquito Island up to Mussel Ridge Channel--lay right before me, and it was only about 1500. Though I was quite tired, I decided to press on and eat up the last 4 miles or so to Tenants Harbor.

A Final Slog

I had a screaming reach across from Port Clyde to Mosquito Island with a strong favorable current. I saw speed-over-ground readings on the GPS of 7.5 knots. Lovely! When I finally rounded the mark and headed up on my course for Tenants Harbor, I saw that it would be a beat to get there. By then I was so tired that I couldn't face the thought of beating, so I rolled the jib and motor sailed the last couple miles into Tenants.

A quick call in to Cod End Marina on the VHF revealed that all rental moorings were full. I had hoped to go in there so that I could get myself some fried calamari and onion rings at Cod End, but no matter. I headed over to Long Cove right next door and dropped the hook near a lobster car float near the gap between Northern and High Islands.

Long Cove was huge, with room for probably 50 boats to anchor comfortably. So, of course, 4 boats came in and clustered right near me. Here we go again. Nobody felt the need to run their generator till all hours, however, so I didn't really mind.

The wind continued blustery until about 2000, then suddenly eased up dramatically. It was quite cold overnight, with a 5 knot northwesterly breeze holding on till morning.

Wednesday, August 9

19.1 Nautical Miles | Pulpit Harbor, North Haven

Despite the fact that I set my alarm for 0530, I slept through till nearly 0700, and had a hard time dragging myself out of bed. I was still pretty worn out from the preceeding day. Still, I didn't want to stay in Long Cove, and wanted a lay day, so after a cup of coffee, I headed off for Pulpit Harbor on North Haven. Pulpit Harbor is considered a must-stop-harbor for any Penobscot Bay cruise, and for one reason or another, I hadn't yet made it there. It seemed like the perfect spot for a lay day.

Unfavorable Winds...That Is, No Winds

I used the first part of the morning to enjoy a cup of coffee and catch up on my log book, which had only the barest of information for the first couple days of the trip noted in it. Then I put the boat together for the passage, checked engine fluids, etc, and was soon on my way.

As I first left Long Cove, it looked like I might be able to sail, as there was still the remenants of that northwesterly breeze. I killed the engine and sailed nicely at 4.5 knots. For about 10 minutes. Soon however, the last of the wind died and I was again motoring. I expected that, as the forecast was for winds switching to SW in the afternoon,and so I had a pleasant, if hot, motor up Mussel Ridge Channel, and across Penobscot Bay. Once I cleared the dense lobster pots of Mussel Ridge Channel, I turned the task of driving over to Otto, the tiller pilot, and enjoyed lunch as Otto and I plodded across the bay.

Otto doesn't say much, so we get on pretty well.

What Is It With Anchoring?

I arrived at Pulpit at 1345 and there were few boats anchored, though there were many occupied moorings further in the cove. I anchored in the second cove on the right as you enter the harbor in about 18 feet at low. I played out about 7:1 scope and backed down to set the anchor. No problem.

I put the boat away, then since I planned to be at Pulpit for two days, I pulled out my brand-new awning that I had finished only the day before I left on the cruise. I hadn't even had a chance to do a final on-the-boat fitting, so I was a little apprehensive about how well it would work out. I needn't have worried. The fit of the awning was just as I had envisioned, and I was extremely pleased with the way it blocked the sun while still allowing good visability and airflow.

Soon, however, the first of several anchoring debacles over the next two days began. This was minor, and barely worth noting, except that it continues the theme of "Why So Damn Close???" that I noted on days one and two of the cruise. A large very nice ketch arrived in the harbor and began scoping out the situation, looking for a spot to anchor. I was moderately close in to the ledges at shore, perhaps 50 yards or so. This ketch after puttering all around decided to anchor between me and the shoreline, probably no more than 15 or 20 yards away. Pulpit is another very large harbor. There just was no need. He then continued to run his engine for over an hour. At that point, I pulled up my anchor and moved closer to the middle of the cove, perhaps another 75 yards away. It wasn't a huge deal, but I was starting to get tired of it.

Next, I had the pleasure of watching a small cruising boat struggle to get its anchor down. This 30 footer spent over an hour dropping and retrieving its way-to-small Danforth because they just couldn't get the hook to set. I counted 6 attempts, and was engrossed in a book the whole time, so I may have missed some!

Turned out to be another cool (OK, COLD!) evening and I had to bundle up with long fleece pants and a heavy wool sweater! I had the warm clothes on board though, so I didn't mind too much. At least I wasn't sweltering at night. I talked to Heather and Gavin on the cell phone, and spent the evening relaxing.

Thursday, August 10

Lay Day | Pulpit Harbor, North Haven

What was a mostly lovely lay day turned ugly--and nearly disasterous--in the evening thanks to yet another stupid anchoring debacle. It seems that I always manage to have at least one moment of angst on every cruise: snagging a lobster pot on a 25 knot day, running out of fuel, bilge water rising above the cabin sole...

A Well-deserved Lay Day

After those first two exhausting, but exhilerating sailing days, I was ready for the first lay day of the cruise. After all, a large part of the enjoyment of cruising, for me, is relaxing in a pleasant harbor somewhere far from the cares of home. To that end, I relaxed!

I did manage to get a little bit of work done first thing. Once I finished my coffee, I spent some time getting a maintenance coat of varnish on the grab rails, sea hood, and companionway trim. Since I actually enjoy varnishing, this really counted toward my relaxation quota.

After reading for a bit, I put the dinghy motor on the dinghy, and headed out to explore the harbor. I motored up each cove and then under the small stone bridge and a ways up the tidal estuary at the northeastern reaches of the harbor. There were any number of very nice large, but actually classy homes to ogle, and more than a couple very nice boats as well. After an hour or so, I returned aboard and relaxed through the evening spending most of my time reading. Throughout the afternoon, clouds began to build, with a few ominous looking thunderheads in the distance over the Camden Hills.

Near Disaster

Around 1700 or so, a largeish (40 feet?) classic-looking sloop arrived and dropped her anchor in the middle of the harbor, where the chart indicated a depth of about 30 feet at low. I didn't pay much attention as they were quite a ways off from me, but I did hear the guy up at the anchor say: I've got 110 feet, is that enough? The captain indicated it was fine and they never backed down to set the anchor. Soon, another slightly smaller Hunter arrived and rafted up with the sloop. Can anyone see where this is going?

Soon after dinner I noticed that the breeze had suddenly shifted to the north-northwest. It was only about 10 knots, but for some reason it made me just a bit nervous. I honestly don't know what made me apprehensive about it but something made me take down the cockpit table and start the engine. Just in case. It was getting quite dark, as it was just about sunset, and the sky was filling with thunderclouds.

Quite suddenly, the wind rapidly built. It wasn't that strong, maybe 25 knots or so, but I decided to get the awning down quick, just in case. I cut the awning loose and stuffed it down the companionway hatch just as the first spattering of rain hit. The wind brought with it a goodly chop, and I was a little nervous now having swung around 180 degrees on my anchor and hanging some 15 or 20 yards from a lee shore.

At that moment I looked up to see the two rafted boats dragging--rapidly--through the anchorage. Everyone onboard the two rafted boats was below decks and other yachtsmen in the anchorage were yelling and blowing airhorns to get thier attention. They finally came on deck just seconds before smashing into a third anchored boat which got it's bowsprit tangled in the lifelines or rigging of the sloop. This third boat had its engine running already and tried to power ahead off the lee shore with the 2 other boats tangled at its bow.

This made the trio of boats--still with anchors out--head directly towards me. The three boats were dragging very quickly toward Dasein and were only about 50 feet away. By now the rain was intense and lightning was crashing all over the place and I had a moment of absolute blinding panic before realizing that my engine was running. I threw the boat in gear and stomped on the throttle, powering ahead and to port. The three boats passed fewer than 10 feet from my stern and surely would have hit me if I hadn't been able to power out of the way.

Aftermath: Nervous Night

Just off my stern, the three boats came free from each other and the Hunter was able to power out of harm's way. The sloop went hard aground on the ledge 20 yards off my stern and the third boat--a double ender with a bowsprit--may have gone briefly aground, or may have just managed to stay off the rocks and eventually was able to power off the lee shore and out into the anchorage where I believe it picked up a mooring.

Fortunately for the sloop, we were near low, on a rising tide and they were able to kedge off with the help of a couple of other boats' dinghys. They limped around into Cabot Cove, the first cove to the right as one enters Pulpit Harbor, where they presumably were able to pick up a mooring.

Soon the rain and lightning passed, however the northly wind continued to blow at about 10-15 knots throughout the night. My anchor was clearly well-set, however the chop coming through the anchorage, and the memory of the boats dragging through the harbor was fresh in my mind and I didn't really manage more than an hour or two of restless sleep in the wee hours of the morning.

Friday, August 11

13.3 Nautical Miles | Bucks Harbor

The wind continued overnight, and was forecast to blow out of the north all day, so I decided to just hot-foot it up to Bucks Harbor where I had planned to be later that day anyway. I had no desire to hang out in Pulpit Harbor any longer.

Bucks Harbor: It Doesn't Suck

After my sleepless night, I definitely needed coffee, but was packed up and on my way by 0645. I tucked a reef and powered north into the cold wind. Nothing of note to report about the passage. I motored the whole way straight into the wind. I saw only one other yacht, and a spare handful of lobster boats along the way. By 0935 I was inside the harbor and after powering by the Bucks Harbor Yacht Club dock to check on the availablilty of a mooring, I grabbed my usual BHYC mooring near Harbor Island.

I think Bucks Harbor may be my favorite place on the coast. It feels like a second home. People are unusually friendly, the yacht club is about as low-key as you can get, the Bucks Harbor Market, while not cheap, has a good selection of staples, some great fresh veggies and fruit, wonderful fresh-baked bread, and a very lovely breakfast menu. And the coffee isn't horrible.

What more can you ask for?

Not Much Doin'

After packing the boat away, I loaded 5 days' worth of trash into the dinghy and headed ashore. After dumping the trash at the yacht club dumpster, I walked up to the market for a second coffee, then sat on the BHYC porch for a while sipping my French Roast.

Eventually, I returned to the boat and did some cleaning, and consolidated two lockers worth of tools and maintenance stuff into a single drawer, thereby freeing up enough convenient storage for all of Heather and Gavin's clothes when they arrived on the 'morrow. With that taken care of, I kicked back with a book and relaxed.

Soon enough, a familiar face appeared alongside: Andrew Breece! I had a nice brief chat with him. I wasn't sure he'd be here again this year, but he assured me that he planned at least one more summer while he finishes up college. This summer, in addition to working at the yacht club, he was teaching adult sailing aboard his Cape Dory 28, Angelina.

I headed back ashore to replenish my dwindling supply of ice cubes, and spent the rest of the day reading in the cockpit until 1900 or so, when I tuned in to the New England Patriots' pre-game show on the radio. (Some of my readers may know that, while not a huge sports fan in general, I do have a bit of a weakness for the beautiful game of professional football.) Once again, it was unusually chilly and I was content to spend the evening huddled below with a blanket and the first pre-season Patriots game on the radio.

Saturday, August 12

Lay Day | Bucks Harbor

Another quiet day in Bucks Harbor. I expected the family to arrive later in the day, thereby beginning the "family" portion of the cruise. Further, I tentatively expected another Triton owner to be sailing down from nearby Smith Cove for an informal rendezvous.

Lazy

I managed to drag myself out of bed at 0730 and had coffee and a bagel while I caught up on the written logs. Then I headed ashore to get rid of some more trash left over from the previous days' cleaning and to buy some sponges, before settling in for some serious relaxing.

Heather called to let me know that she expected to arrive around 1330, and I put the free morning to good use reading. The wind continued to blow very strongly from the northwest with some absurdly strong gusts, and the sky was filled with large puffy clouds. Fortunately the sun was warm and the wind wasn't too cold.

Heather arrived at almost exactly 1330, and I went ashore to pick her up, only to find that Gavin was sleeping. I loaded all of the gear and headed back to the boat to stow everything away while she stayed ashore so that Gavin could continue to nap for a while. As I was putting gear away, a rather sudden, and surprisingly heavy rain shower came through, so I waited out the rain--maybe 15 minutes--before heading back ashore. Gavin had woken up during that time, and I shuttled everyone out to the boat.

During the day there was no sign of the Triton from Smith Cove, so at about 1630, we headed ashore to go up to the Rendezvous Cafe for a beer to celebrate our 6th wedding anniversary. Then we returned to the boat where I grilled up some pizzas. Soon enough it was time for Gavin to hit the racks and a few hours later Heather and I followed his lead.

Sunday, August 13

11.0 Nautical Miles | Wooden Boat School, Brooklin

The winds continued to blow overnight, and were still blowing at 5-10 knots when everyone awoke at 0715. After a trip ashore, and some breakfast, I put the boat together, and by 0935, we were ready to head out.

Fast Down The Reach

Since the wind seemed to be moderate, and the forecast was for only 10-15 knots out of the northwest, I decided to show the whole main and we motored out of the harbor. Outside I unfurled the jib and Heather started us down the reach, wing-and-wing. She was having a bit of trouble keeping the jib full however, so we soon rolled it in. We only had about 10 miles to go, after all, so if we were a little slow, it was no problem. After about a half hour or so, Heather abandoned the helm and went up on the foredeck to get some sun.

Now that hardly seems fair.

Speed, however, was no problem that day. Despite the forecast, the wind must have been blowing 15-20 with higher gusts and we literally flew down the reach, often at speeds approaching 7 knots. I ended up having to gybe a couple of times, and after the first somewhat startling one, I prudently brought the boat into the wind and tacked around rather than gybing.

Nice New Facilities!

Soon enough we sailed in to the Wooden Boat mooring field and turned up to drop the main. Wow, was the wind howling! After wrestling the flogging sail into submission, we grabbed one of the guest moorings and I put the boat away.

We had a quick lunch aboard, then headed ashore to walk around. We quickly noticed a brand-new shower and bathroom facility had been built near the camping fields and resolved to take advantage of that the following morning. We seemed to have arrived between sessions, and it was very quiet on the property. Being Sunday, even the Wooden Boat Store was closed.

We returned to the boat for naps and Heather and Gavin slept the afternoon away while I huddled in the cockpit with a book and the wind screaming in my hair. Once again, at least the sun was warm! We had a relaxing evening, with a dinner of burgers and grilled potatoe wedges before everyone drifted off to an early sleep. The wind finally died off around 2000.

Monday, August 14

16. Nautical Miles | Blue Hill Harbor

It looked like we might have favorable conditions for a sail up Blue Hill Bay, so we planned to head up to Blue Hill Harbor. But first we had a couple of things to take care of...

Showers and Shopping

We were up around 0700. After I crankily staggered about the boat making coffee, we headed ashore to try out those nice new shower facilities. Nice? Wow! Freshly painted white beadboard paneling, wood trim, tile floors, and even nice teak duckboard mats outside each shower stall.

After cleaning up, we walked over to the Wooden Boat store to browse around. We purchased a coloring book for Gavin, and a coffee mug for me. I wasn't really planning to get anything at all, but the mug was just right. I'm quite particular about my coffee mugs--it needs to be heavy, correctly shaped, and sized for no more than 8 ounces. And the one with the nice Wooden Boat School logo was perfect, and only $5.95 to boot. How could I resist?

We headed back to the boat and got the boat ready for departure. The forecast was for westerly winds becoming southwest at 15 to 20 knots, so I tucked in a reef and at 0945 I dropped the mooring.

Fifteen to Twenty?

We sailed out past Babson Island, and had a lovely reach around Hog Island at the eastern end of Eggemoggin Reach in about 10 knots of wind. Soon we were wing-and-wing sailing past Naskeage Point and on toward Green Island at the base of Blue HIll Bay. The wind was still rather light, and fortunately we had fair current. We sailed on at 3 or so knots, and finally gybed around for the long broad-to-beam reach up Blue Hill Bay.

The wind continued light, but we were making around 3.5 knots and only had about 10 miles left to go, so I decided not to bother shaking out the reef, thinking that perhaps the wind would build as the day wore on.

It never did. At least, not until we were in Blue Hill Harbor. But we had a nice sail up the bay at speeds between 2.5 and 5.5 knots. Along the way we listened to a somewhat disturbing radio exchange between the Coast Guard and a boat that had an engine fire raging.

Kollegewidg-what?

As we neared Blue Hill Harbor, we were amused to listen to transient yachts butcher the name of the local yacht club on the VHF. Not that we were 100% sure how to pronounce Kollegewidgwok Yacht Club, mind you, but some of the attempts were very poor.

Soon, we dropped the main and motored into the outer harbor. We hailed KYC (yes, that's what the locals use, rather than Kollegewidgwok Yacht Club) on the VHF and procured a mooring for the night. The mooring they provided us was awfully close to another boat, but once we settled back on it, it seemed OK.

Once we were settled on the mooring, NOAA's 20 knots finally arrived and we were glad to be in the harbor. Heather and Gavin went ashore to the yacht club to explore for a bit before returning for nap time. The afternoon evaporated quickly, with Gavin sleeping and Heather working on the laptop, while I devoured another book.

After dinner, Gavin and I went for a long dinghy ride to explore the harbor and investigate whether there might be room to anchor in the inner harbor. We decided that there probably was, but ultimately we were too lazy to move the boat!

Tuesday, August 15

Lay Day | Blue Hill Harbor

We decided to stay on another day, as we really wanted to go ashore to explore the town of Blue Hill which we hadn't been able to do the preceeding day due to the fact that the tides and Gavin's naps didn't coincide.

Wet

We awoke to morning rain. Heavy rain. Heather and I tried to sleep in, but Gavin didn't really think that was a great idea. Eventually Heather got up and sat in the cabin with Gavin bouncing all over her while I tried unsucessfully to catch a few more minutes of sleep. Finally, I gave up and made breakfast.

At about 1000 the rain finally slacked, then stopped. Heather banished the boys from the boat, and we went ashore to the yacht club to find out when we could go into town. (The town dock in Blue Hill dries out at low tide.) After securing the necessary information and 20 pounds of block ice, Gavin and I returned to the boat to inform Heather that we needed to wait until about 2 hours past low before we could get to town.

A Bit Of A Letdown

We tried to get Gavin to take an early nap, but he resisted the idea. Finally, at about 1230, we fed him a can of soup and packed up to head ashore. We spent a couple of hours wandering around town. I had expected something rather like Camden, with lots of shops, galleries, and restaraunts. There were a few of those things, but they all seemed outnumbered by real estate offices. And the main roads had poor sidewalks with large amounts of truck traffic lumbering by on the road. Frankly, it made me a little nervous.

Blue HIll does have an excellent community radio station, though: 89.9FM WERU. I heard some great jazz while we were in the neighborhood.

We stopped at the general store hoping to find butane cylinders for our Kenyon stove, but to no avail. Heather did buy some dried fruit and mini-boxes of cereal. Then we stopped at one of the few restaraunts that we saw--Westcott Forge--where we shared a really good burger with brie and fabulous house-made potato chips, and Gavin got covered with mustard. Around 1545 we headed back to the boat so that Gavin could nap.

We did the usual relaxing-type-things for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

Wednesday, August 16

22.7 Nautical Miles | Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island

Enough of Blue Hill! We hadn't planned on staying another day anyway, so we set our sights on Mount Desert. As loyal readers of my logs may know, we always spend at least a couple of days on Mount Desert. Especially with Gavin, its a great place to cruise to: lots of things to do ashore, and convenient busses to get you there.

Hey! We're Famous!

After the obligitory morning coffee, we made ready to leave Blue Hill under leaden skies. The forecast was for very light westerly breezes, but I hoisted the main anyway and we were soon underway, dropping the mooring at 0840. We motored along the shoreline then out across the bay to the north end of Long Island. We turned down the east branch of Blue Hill Bay, coasting along Long Island past some floats that looked like they might be used for mussel aquaculture, then across the bay and on toward Bass Head. Along the way we noticed a fire belching thick black smoke from one of the islands, but as we got closer it appeared to be some sort of intentional burn.

As we passed Goose Cove Rock, we were hailed on the VHF by Eric Johnson, the owner of the Triton Sophia, which he keeps moored in Seal Cove on the western side of Mount Desert. He had seen my sail numbers as I motored by him and recognized my boat, presumably from the website, though I didn't ask. We had a nice chat, and he graciously offered to help us out with transportation or anything else we needed while we were on MDI. I had hoped to catch up with him while we were there, but our time ended up being pretty well filled during the two days that we were there.

Eric, if you read this, sorry we didn't get a chance to meet. Perhaps next summer?

We Heart Northeast Harbor

Soon we made a somewhat lumpy passage across Bass Harbor Bar, then had a nice ride down the Western Way on some large but gentle ocean rollers at 7 knots. As we approached Northeast Harbor we passed an immense mega-yacht from London called ANIX. Wow. This one was very classy despite its enormous size.

Heather hailed the Northeast Harbor mooring agent on the VHF. He recognized the boat name and welcomed us back to Northeast. He then said, "You guys know where the 200 series moorings are. I'll meet you over there." While he was collecting the money for the mooring he chatted with Gavin, and apparently remembering how excited Gavin was about the bus last year, he asked, "Are you excited about riding the bus again?"

"Where everyone knows your name..."

Yes, it strikes me as kind of ridiculous that the mooring agent remembers us so well. I mean, it's not like we have some mega-yacht, nor are we celebrities. Or, frankly, that friendly. But I'm not complaining.

I'm not sure what it is about Northeast, but we--and Heather especially--really love going there. It's kind of strange, since I normally would rather be where there are fewer people and less civilization. But there's something about the place that we really like. I can't put my finger on it.

Maybe it's the internet access. This year we were able to pick up an open wireless network from the boat. What is this world coming to?

A Bit of Gardening?

Once I got the boat put away, we headed ashore. We were still trying to locate butane canisters. No luck. I did get some Sailkote dry lubricant for the companionway hatch slides and the sailtrack though. Heather got a coffee and we returned to the boat so that Gavin could nap. Surprisingly, I decided to read while he slept, and Heather went ashore to work for a couple hours.

After Gavin finally woke up from his nap at nearly 1800, we dinghyed over to the little dock at the Asticou Landing, and walked up the terraces to the Asticou Gardens. Very nice. We spent a while in the gardens before beginning the trek back down the steep hillside to the dock. I walked ahead a bit, and spent some time gazing out from one of the little wooden "lookouts" along the way that provided a lovely vista looking down to the harbor full of boats, and out the Western Way towards open ocean.

What is it that makes people carve their names into gazebos, lean-tos, and toilet stalls?

Back at the boat we enjoyed a nice, if late, family dinner before getting Gavin ready for bed. It was another very cool evening, but I bundled up with a heavy wool sweater, fleece pants, and wool socks and sat in the cockpit with a flashlight reading until quite late.

Thursday, August 17

Lay Day | Northeast Harbor, Mount Desert Island

Gavin was up early. He wanted to ride the bus. After trying to ignore him for a while, we eventually gave up and dragged ourselves out of bed. That's the royal "ourselves." Heather had already gotten up.

A Day Without Popovers Is Like...

After I had my coffee, we packed ourselves up and headed ashore to take advantage of the showers at the Yachtsman's Building. (Yes, that is what it is called.) There was a line for showers in the men's area, so I checked my email while I waited for an opening. Meanwhile Heather and Gavin walked up the hill to the deli to get her a cup of coffe.

She doesn't like my coffee.

We zipped back out to the boat to leave off all of our showering gear before returning to shore to grab the next bus to the Jordon Pond House. After all, a trip to MDI isn't complete without popovers. They make great popovers, served with about a pound of butter and strawberry jam. Yum. Heather had made reservations in advance this time, so we were quickly ushered out to a table on the lawn overlooking the pond.

After we had gorged ourselves, we took a walk down to the pond to kill some time before our return bus arrived. We caught our bus--barely: it was standing room only--and headed back to Northeast so that Gavin could catch his nap. While he was sleeping, I headed ashore with our second laptop, which doesn't have a wireless card, so that I could take care of some internet-related things at the Yachtsman's Building.

Yes, we have two laptops on the boat. So?

Gavin again slept late, and we had a standard cruisers evening, with relaxing, drinks, dinner, reading, and bed. It was, again, cold overnight.

Friday, August 18

11.8 Nautical Miles | Mackerel Cove, Swans Island

We had planned to head down to Frenchboro, Long Island from Northeast, but the weather forecast called for heavy rain all day on Sunday, the day we were going to return to Bucks Harbor. I told Heather that we could go back to Bucks Harbor on Sunday, but I was going to spend the trip down below. With this in mind, we decided that it might be better to head somewhere closer to Eggemoggin Reach so that we would have a reasonably short day on Saturday to return to Bucks.

A Lazy, Lazy Day

We had a low-key morning: Gavin colored, Heather finished a book, and I drank coffee. Around 0930 we went ashore so that Heather could get herself some coffee at the deli, then we returned to the boat to get ready to leave. Around 1030 we dropped the mooring and bid adieu to Northeast Harbor.

We motored out the Western Way directly into the teeth of a 15 knot breeze, with Gavin down below playing with clothespins. Once we cleared the end of the Western Way, we made off for Bass Harbor Bar and enjoyed a nice sail, for about 15 minutes, in a steadily decreasing breeze. Eventually we were making less than 1 knot overground and Heather declared that it was time to start the engine. We motored across the bar, and made a course for Mackerel Cove on Swans Island, near the entrance to Casco Passage.

We motored most of the way, with a couple of brief but abortive attempts at sailing. At the mouth of the cove we dropped the main and motored in. Mackerel Cove is huge. We considered the current wind direction, and the forecast for the afternoon and evening, and chose to anchor in the little indent east of Roderick Head. The spot seemed nicely protected and we dropped the anchor in 12 feet at low.

It turned out that this was a great spot to anchor. Not only did we have really good protection from what turned into a stiff southwesterly that blew all night, only one other boat anchored there.

We didn't really do anything all afternoon. Heather worked on the computer and I read, while watching a steady parade of boats sail out of Casco Passage and across Blue Hill Bay with Mount Desert in the background. Gavin napped most of it away, then played aboard, as it was sort of unpleasantly cold and windy in the evening. We listened to jazz on MPR, played with Gavin, and read. Another day of cruising.

Saturday, August 19

17.5 Nautical Miles | Bucks Harbor

With rain in the forecast for the entire day on Sunday, it was time for us to get back to Bucks Harbor. NOAA was calling for strong winds out of the southwest, and since it was still blowing at 15 knots in Mackerel Cove, and had done so all night, we were inclined to believe them.

Come On, NOAA

After breakfast, and of course, coffee, we got the boat ready to go. I tucked a reef into the main and by 0910 the anchor was up and we were on our way. The wind was strong in Mackerel Cove and out through York Narrows. The breeze was cold, and a bit of a chop was running through the Narrows. I needed my foul weather gear against the spray.

As we exited the Narrows, we made off for Eggemoggin Reach. This put us on a beam reach and we shut down the engine and unfurled the jib. We enjoyed a nice fast reach across Jericho Bay--for about 10 minutes. As we got further into the bay, the wind continued to lighten. Soon we were making 3.2 knots and I was at the mast shaking the reef. Our speed increased to around 4.5 knots for a few minutes, but the wind continued to ease.

We managed to maintain about 3 knots across Jericho Bay despite the foul current, but as we approached the mouth of the Reach, our speed contined to drop with virtually no wind and a foul current. Finally I gave in and fired up the engine. After about 10 minutes of motoring however, the wind seemed to be filling in a bit and I shut her down again.

We were able to sail up the reach at an average speed of about 3 knots--sometimes down as low as 2, and sometimes as high as 4.5--with only one or two brief bouts of motoring to get us through a couple of holes.

Finally, as we approached the bridge from the mainland to Deer Isle, the wind started to build. First a solid 10 knots, and soon a piping 15-20 which provided us with a screaming reach up under the bridge and along the last stretch of Eggemoggin Reach. As we closed in on Bucks Harbor the wind eased a bit again and we dropped the main to motor into the harbor.

How Do I Love Thee?

Heather has been making noise for a couple of years now about how she wants me to build her a small power boat. So throughout the cruise we kept our eyes out for suitable candidates from which to draw inspiration. We found many boats that had aspects we liked, but Heather's eye kept being drawn to the numereous Hinckley Picnic Launches that ply the waters in this region.

I hardly think that qualifies as a "small" power boat!

As if to put an exclamation point on Heather's infatuation with the Picnic Launch, on this last day of family sailing we saw four. Plus two of the Ellis versions. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways: One jet-drive picnic launch, two jet-drive picnic launches, three jet-drive....

Fortunately Heather Likes Football Too

We arrived at Bucks Harbor at 1315 and picked up the yacht club mooring. I've been on this mooring so many times, I'm starting to think of it as my mooring. After putting the boat away, we headed up to the market for ice cubes. I then brought Heather and Gavin back to the boat so that he could nap and buzzed over to Bucks Harbor Marine to replenish our dinghy gas.

Heather and Gavin both napped and I'm sure that by now you can guess what I did. Around 1730 Dawn Arbo came by via dinghy to say hello. Dawn and her husband Mike keep their boat in Bucks Harbor and kindly let us use it during our 2005 cruise since they were off cruising themselves at the time. The Arbos are friends of Heather's parents, and despite using their mooring, we hadn't previously met them. We chatted for a while before she returned to her boat for dinner and I turned my attention to the same.

After a nice low key dinner of homemade sausages and artisinal cheese, Gavin began to get ready for bed. I flipped on the radio and we discovered Patriots' pre-game! That is to say, while I was scanning through the stations Heather heard Geno Capiletti say "Falcons" and made me back up to see what he was talking about.

Should I find it disturbing that my wife recognizes Geno's voice that quickly?

Gavin "read" out of the cruising guide for a while, explaining about whales and showing us where we went on the various charts in the book. Soon it was time for him to go to bed, and Heather and I spent the rest of the evening listening to the Pats paste the Cardinals. Go team!

Sunday, August 20

Lay Day | Bucks Harbor

The family portion of the cruise was over and it was time to think about heading back towards Falmouth. I still had six days before I needed to be home, but I didn't want to have to put in too many very long slogs into a southwesterly to get there. But the forecast for the day was for "rain, heavy at times, chance of precipitation: 100%" so I wasn't planning on going anywhere until the next day.

Departure Time

Gavin woke up early, at about 0630, but he played happily and quietly while the old fogeys slept until 0745. We finally dragged ourselves out of bed to the drumming of rain on the decks and awning. It was coming down. Hard.

The first words out of my mouth were: "Why didn't we unload all your gear yesterday?"

Unfortunately, we hadn't. Heather packed up all of the clothes and toys while Gavin got himself dressed. Around 0900 the rain eased dramatically to just a light mist and we decided to grab the opportunity to unload. We all piled into the dinghy and buzzed to shore. I helped load everything into the car and said goodbye to Heather and Gavin. By 0915 they were on their way back home.

I headed up to the market to pick up a few things to round out the larder for the trip home, and decided while I was there that I should treat myself to one of their fine, fine egg-cheese-and-sausage sandwiches. Mmmmmm. Loaded down with some steak, chicken, tonic water, ice, and a freshly baked sourdough boule (exceptional!), I headed back to the boat

I Thought It Was Going To Rain?

After stowing the provisions I noticed that it still hadn't started raining again, so I toweled off the cockpit where rain had blown in under the awning and settled into the cockpit with the laptop. I spent the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon plotting routes with my navigation software, and writing these very logs you are reading.

You didn't think these logs just magically appeared all by themselves, did you?

Around 1500 I saw Angelina, Andrew Breece's Cape Dory, bearing down on me. He had stopped by to say hello before he left. He was on his way to the Benjamin River to get hauled! So early in the season, but his summer was over and he was leaving the following day to head back to college for his Junior year. We chatted briefly, and said that we would see each other again in 2007, as he intended to be back for another summer at the yacht club.

I then topped off the diesel tank with the five gallons in the jerry can on deck and headed back over to Bucks Harbor Marine to refill the can. I like to have spare fuel on deck when I'm cruising! While I was at Bucks Harbor Marine the rain started up again, lightly.

I spent the evening lazing around down below while the rain, heavy at times, pitter-pattered on the awning. Around 2200 I finally put my book down and went to bed.

Monday, August 21

31.1 Nautical Miles | Long Cove, Tenant's Harbor

It was time to start working my way back towards Falmouth. Too bad the clouds were clinging to the hillsides, spitting rain. After waking early and seeing the dreary weather, I rolled over and got another hour or more of sleep.

Damp, But Not Unbearable

Once I finally rolled out of bed I started getting the boat ready to go while I waited for the coffee water to heat up. Just about the time I brewed the coffee, another light shower came through, and I huddled below with my beverage to wait for it to clear. Fortunately, the shower was brief and by 0930 I was on my way.

Outside the harbor, there was only a very light wind and a quick testing of the air showed that I was only going to get about 2 knots out if it. With 30 miles to go that day to my planned destination of Tenants Harbor at the southern end of Mussel Ridge Channel, 2 knots just wasn't acceptable, so I motored south at 5 knots or so.

Soon however, the breeze seemed to be building a bit and I was able to sail on a nice beam reach in a northwesterly breeze at about 4.7 knots. With a 30 mile day ahead, I had mentally set my bottom limit for speed at 4.0 knots, though with what should have been a favorable wind direction, I really didn't want to motor.

The wind seemed to understand, and while it was flukey and too light in the lee of Hog and Beach Islands, I managed to keep the engine off while I sailed south in intermittent light showers. I did see the speed drop down to about 3 knots a couple of times, but I was generally able to keep the boat moving at a pretty steady 4.6-4.8 knots.

The sailing continued to be favorable, and once past Little Spruce Head the showers seemed to dissipate. I enjoyed a lovely 4.5-5.5 knot beam reach for almost all of the 14 miles from Little Spruce Head to the north end of Mussel Ridge Channel. Along the way I had the bay almost entirely to myself save for a handful of lobster boats, the North Haven ferry, and the tug Barbara Bouchard towing a light oil barge from Searsport bound for sea.

Fundy Flotilla

As I neared Mussel Ridge Channel however, the wind eased and the strong ebb made it impossible for me to maintain my course. At that point I regretfully fired up the engine and powered for about 2 miles until I was in the channel proper. By then the clouds had mostly cleared, the wind was piping up again, and the strong current rushing through Mussel Ridge Channel was in my favor. I killed the engine and enjoyed a screaming reach down the channel, mostly at over 6.5 knots. Glorious.

As I approached the southern end of Mussel Ridge, I began to hear boats calling in to Tenant's Harbor looking for moorings. It seemed that they were all with the Fundy Flotilla, and the large number of boats had already taken up all the available moorings--and in fact many of the boats were apparently rafting together on the Cod End moorings. So once again I ended up in nearby Long Cove. Even here there were perhaps 8 or 10 Fundy Flotilla boats riding at anchor. Long Cove has plenty of room for anchoring however, and I was able to find a nice spot in about 10 feet at low well away from the cluster of Flotilla boats.

Plague!

Once the anchor was down and the boat put away I was happy to kick back with a well-deserved rum and tonic to relax for a bit. I was pleased that I had been able to sail more than 27 of the 31.1 miles I had covered and looked forward to a relaxing evening.

While kicking back in the cockpit, I suddenly noticed some annoying buzzing. Looking up from my book I found that the cockpit was infested with a veritable plague of flies! Where there had been none mere moments before, I estimated there were now over 30 flies. Looking around I saw more buzzing about the foredeck, and another regiment lined up in the dinghy! I hurried below to retrieve the companionway screens in hopes that I could at least keep the flies outside of the boat.

After about 10 or 15 minutes, the flies dispursed, as quickly as they had come.

I spent the rest of the evening reading until bed time. I found the anchroage just a bit rolly, and once again it was very chilly overnight.

Tuesday, August 22

21.9 Nautical Miles | Witch Island, Johns Bay

The weather forecast was calling for increasingly strong southwesterlies as the day went on--exactly the direction I would be going in all day. After toying with a few options, I narrowed my choices down to two: Harbor Island or Witch Island, depending on just how strong the wind had gotten when I reached Davis Straits.

Swamped!

After lazing about until 0630, I got up and made coffee etc, etc. Do I really need to mention the coffee every day? I guess it just gives me a way to get started talking about the day...

By 0730 the boat and crew were ready to go and I hoisted the main motored out of the cove. The wind was light at no more than five knots out of the south, but it was almost absurdly cold. I was bundled up with a rugby shirt and a wool fisherman's sweater. I powered into the light breeze down past Mosquito Island and into the channel that leads past Port Clyde and on toward Davis Straits, where, of course I had foul current to contend with.

As I rounded Mosquito Island I heard a throaty rumbling astern and looked back in time to see the classy Port Clyde lobster boat Whore Afire bearing down on me. The Whore careened by close enough to hand me a jar of Grey Poupon, her wake chasing green water over the foredeck, and her sternman cheerfully scrubbing bait and lobster goo off her hull.

The captain of the Whore was nice enough to wave, though.

Decisions Made

I continued on through Davis Straits, past one of my favorite islands between Portland and Mt. Desert: Davis Island. This island has almost everything I want in an island: nice house, toepaths through a wide variety of island habitat, a boat barn, a small tasteful guest cottage, dock and floats, and reasonably protected deepwater moorings. I decided to buy it.

The more important decision made however, was the decision to continue on past Harbor Island to Witch Island on Johns Bay. The wind had built a bit, and was now blowing at 10-15 knots, and a slight chop was developing, but it somehow didn't seem too insistant, and I wanted to get further along than Harbor Island in Muscongus Bay.

I powered directly into the wind until I reached Pemaquid Point on the far side of Muscongus Bay. I then cut the engine and enjoyed a nice broad reach up Johns Bay to Witch Island. As I approached I rolled the jib and rounded up to drop the main, then powered in and found a spot to drop the anchor in about 20 feet at low.

Busy, But Kind Of Nice

Once settled on the anchor with the boat put away, I turned my attention to the important business of the afternoon: relaxing. While lounging about, I discovered that my nice anchorage was actually more of a thoroughfare. The afternoon was filled with boats on their way to or from South Bristol and The Gut. Still, the anchorage was nicely protected from the southwesterly wind that continued to blow all afternoon, and most boats slowed down as they passed by.

Except for the cigarette boat that plowed through at probably 50 knots.

As evening came on the traffic subsided and the anchorage actually proved to be very quiet and peaceful overnight. I spent the afternoon and evening reading, catching up on these logs, and rowing about the anchorage. This turned out to be the first (and only) truly warm night on the cruise, and I found that I didn't even need blankets for sleeping!

Wednesday, August 23

12.7 Nautical Miles | Harmon Harbor, Sheepscot River

Now that I was practically back in home waters, I felt that I could afford a short day, since I didn't really need to be back to Falmouth until Friday. After tossing some ideas around, I decided to just poke on over to Harmon Harbor. Harmon Harbor is a remarkably peaceful and friendly spot, and its a great place to stop on the way to or from Casco Bay.

Good Holding. Maybe Too Good.

Knowing that I didn't have far to go, I decided to sleep in a bit and didn't get up till 0830. I followed my normal morning routine which centers around, of course, coffee. I also sawed off a nice hunk of sourdough bread from that boule I bought in Bucks Harbor and threw it on the grill for toast. Yum!

While I enjoyed breakfast, the folks anchored nearby were busy pulling up their anchor. Its a good thing he had a windlass. I'm not sure he could have gotten the thing up by hand. Event the windlass seemed to be struggling. When the anchor emerged from the water, it was immediately apparent why: It was fouled with several steel cables. It took the two of them more than 20 minutes to get the 3 or 4 cables--mooring cables, perhaps?--free from their anchor. I inwardly groaned, thinking that if my anchor was similarly fouled, I would likely have to cut it free.

I got the boat ready to go, and at 0925 I went forward to retrieve my anchor, fearing the worst. Fortunately, though my anchor was quite well set, it was not fouled and once I broke it free from the thick, smelly mud, it came up without any problems.

Nuttin'

I motored out of the anchorage and started down Johns Bay. It was like glass, with just a little bit of roll and a few patches of the barest of ripples. I had hoped that the forecast--North, 10 knots becoming south late--would allow me to sail the relatively short distance to Harmon Harbor.

No dice.

I powered down the bay and through the narrow slot between a series of islands and the mainland known as the Thread of Life, then turned to the southwest and set a course past Fisherman Island towards the Cuckolds and the bell bouy off of Collectors Ledge. The wind continued light to non-existant as I passed Fisherman Island. Soon, too, the clear skies were covered by a dreary overcast. As I approached the bouy, the wind did start to fill in somewhat from the southwest, and I was able to get a little bit of a push from the wind as I turned up into the river and headed across to Harmon Harbor.

He Was This Big!

Just outside the harbor, I dropped the main, then motored through the narrow slot in the ledges that protect the harbor. I motored in slowly, half expecting someone to run down from their home to offer me a mooring as had happened in previous visits. The shores remained quiet however. I briefly considered picking up one of the moorings that I had used in the past and now stood empty, but despite the fact that it had always been offered in the past--or perhaps because of that fact--I decided instead to just drop the anchor. There was plenty of room just outside the moorings in about 20 feet of water and I had no trouble getting the hook set.

Once the boat was put away I made lunch and read for a while. Later I spent some time rowing about the anchorage, investigating the rocky shore. I found several small beds of mussels, though I didn't harvest any. I also found a lobster trap that was in only about 3 feet of water at low tide and spent some time peering through the ripples trying to spy out any lobsters. No, I didn't pull up the trap!

After snapping some pictures of the boat in the afternoon light, I returned to the boat. All throughout the afternoon some very large fish were jumping in the harbor. I don't know what sort they were, but they were about 2 feet long and as big around as my upper arm. These guys didn't just sort of pop up to the surface and flop back down either. They were leaping straight up into the air and getting their tails well clear of the water.

As evening approached, the harbor seemed even quieter than usual. As it started to get dark, I saw only a couple of lighted windows anywhere along the shore. When I went to bed the only sounds to be heard were the gentle creaking of the docks along the shoreline and the distant crash of small waves against the ledges at the mouth of the harbor. Wonderful.

Thursday, August 24

20.0 Nautical Miles | Ash Point Cove (Potts Harbor)

Though I could have easily gotten back to Falmouth today, and part of me wanted to do so, I decided that I should savor the last night of the cruise aboard. I decided that I wanted to get close to home so that I could relax in the morning and then have a short jaunt home so that I could get in at a reasonable hour. My first thought was Cliff Island, but the weather forecast for overnight was calling for northerly winds at 10-15 knots which would be untenable at Cliff.

Otto-o-otto

After mulling it over while drinking my coffee, I decided that Potts Harbor might be appropriate. Though somewhat unprotected to the southwest, I figured that I could anchor up in the little cove to the east of Ash Point and be well protected from the north. With that decided, I got ready to go and at 0815 I was motoring out of the harbor.

There was no wind during the entire passage. None. Well, OK, maybe 2 or 3 knots. The sky was overcast and the seas glassy. Again it was unusually cold, even with basically no wind blowing, so I fished out the heavy wool sweater again.

With neither wind, nor seemingly any other boats out on the water, I quickly got Otto set up. He was soon steering nicely, and I settled in with a book. Read a paragraph, look around. Read a paragraph, look around. Three and a half hours later I was approaching Merriconeag Sound and the eastern entrance to Potts Harbor. I relieved Otto and headed into the harbor where I dropped the main and motored up to my chosen anchoring spot near some lobster boats in Ash Point Cove. By 1220 the anchor was set in about 15 feet of water.

Bittersweet

The wind came up out of the southwest during the course of the afternoon, but it never blew hard enough to cause much chop in the very open anchorage. I spent the last afternoon of the cruise finishing up a book, and then catching up to date on the logs for the website.

The evening was lovely with just the light remains of the southwest wind blowing, and pink skies out over Upper Flag, Eagle, and Haskell Islands and the open sea beyond. The Decemberists mix I had playing on the stereo added just the right touch to the evening. It was hard to believe the cruise was basically over, and though I was looking forward to getting back home and seeing the family, I was a bit pensive, too.

Friday, August 25

9.5 Nautical Miles | Portland Yacht Club

There's not much to report from this final day. I slept in til 0730, then enjoyed a lazy breakfast of fried eggs and thick-cut sourdough toast. And, of course, coffee. The weather wasn't great—cold and grey—so I decided to just get ready and head out. By 0815 I was underway, powering in basically still air.

Clean!

I powered across Broad Sound, then past Hope Island, where the owner now appears to have a horse farm, or at least stables and a riding area. As I passed through Chandler's Cove, the both the sun and wind started to appear. But I was only a mile from home, and lazily decided to just power the last bit to PYC.

Arriving back home, I immediately took the boat in to the dock for a much-needed bath, and spent 90 minutes or so cleaning her up before putting her back on the mooring and calling the launch at 1330.

Cruise Finis!