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.