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.