Sailing Again on Our 25th Anniversary

August 11th marked 25 years of marriage for Whit and me. They've been a good twenty-five years. It's interesting how much our lives have changed in that amount of time though. We spent our honeymoon cruising the beautiful coast of Maine, vowing to someday return and live here; we loved it that much. Although we do live in Maine now, we don't sail much any more. We farm. Yup, lots of changes.

Here in the foothills of central Maine we have some friends who sail, and last May Whit bartered some time with his backhoe for a week with their sailboat. I took lots of pictures, so this may be more of a "photo bucket" than a story, but I wanted to share them with you anyway. It's a good way for us to remember this lovely week we had away from the farm, reminiscing about the way our life used to be. Not better by any means, just different.

This is our friends' "Hannah," a 32-foot Chuck Paine design, in case you were wondering. (Chuck Paine is a boat designer here in Maine.) She is a double-ender with pretty lines, and she sails well.
After running around all day, finally getting everything together, and driving down to South Bristol, here we are aboard on Tuesday evening. We got our belongings stowed and tried to decide what to do next. That whole free time/unwind thing took a few minutes to adjust to. However, we recovered quickly, went back to shore, and drove back up to Damariscotta to walk around the village and check out a yarn shop (which was closed.) We had a nice anniversary dinner at the King Eider Pub. It started to pour as we were running up the street from the parking lot, but the storm had passed by the time we were done with dinner. That was fortunate timing since motoring back out to the sailboat in the rain wouldn't have been as much fun without the foul-weather gear.
Wednesday morning: It was still cloudy and cool, but we set sail anyway. We dropped the mooring and headed northeast towards Tenants Harbor.
So. Bristol is up in John's Bay, and as we cleared the end of Pemaquid Point we ran right into a fogbank. Below is a picture of Pemaquid just before we ran into the fog. The wind was lovely... and just about off the nose, so we wound up tacking north into Muscongus Bay then turning southeast towards Monhegan Island.
The fog got a little tedious, damp and cold after awhile. I couldn't take any pictures, but I did make some tremendous progress on the sleeve of a sweater I'm knitting. Below is a photo of the galley with the gimbaled stove. I took this for TBear so he could see how the stove always stays level, even when the boat is heeling over. This is a good thing if you want to keep the coffee in the pot. : )

Once we reached Tenants Harbor that afternoon and anchored, the sun came out about half and hour later and it got hot!

Thursday: We pulled anchor around 8am, after breakfast, and headed for Northwest Harbor on Deer Isle. The day dawned beautiful and sunny...in the harbor. We motored out of the harbor to find there was no wind. It was flat calm, and the fog set in again about a mile after we left the harbor. Ever the optomists, we raised the mainsail, hoping to catch at least a breath of wind. We raised and lowered the sail all day long, but the sad truth was we generally motorsailed through fog that alternately went from pea soup to 2 miles of visibility and back again. Fortunately it cleared by about noon as we entered East Penobscot Bay. We could see Isle au Haut in the distance.

Below is a picture of an interesting schooner that we passed going in the opposite direction. It's name was Peacemaker, which rang a bell. Sure enough, when we returned home, we found an article about this particular ship a friend had sent not too long ago. We think they were probably on their way south again from Belfast, Maine.
It got sunnier and clearer the farther up East Penobscot Bay we sailed, and it turned into a beautiful cruise. We saw quite a few seals swimming and at least a half dozen pods of dolphins or pilot whales. It was hard to tell from a distance because they surfaced and dove so quickly. It was also impossible for me to get a decent picture, although I tried a number of times.

Northwest Harbor was a very pretty little harbor. We dropped anchor around 3:30pm and took the dinghy in to a rocky little beach by a causeway. We were delighted to stumble on the Pilgrim Inn and Whale's Rib Tavern right there just up the hill from the causeway. We set off on a four-mile hike along Route 15 (I don't recommend doing this) in search of a convenience store we were told was a mile and a half down the road. We never did find the store, turning around about two miles down the road. We got back to the tavern around 5pm. They were all booked with reservations for the evening, but we were early enough for them to squeeze us in before the first ones at 6pm. Score! We had the most excellent dinner of our whole trip.

The ride back to Hannah in the dinghy was mildly nerve-wracking as an additional, and previously unseen piece of ledge was revealed by the seagulls which were perched on it...it was also unmarked on the chart. We went slowly and kept our eyes peeled, but didn't see anything else to concern us on the falling tide. Below is a picture of the harbor just before the sun set, with a rainbow over the causeway.
This is looking back toward the entrance to the harbor. The setting sun was beautiful that evening.
Friday: We weighed anchor at 8:30am and set off on an absolutely beautiful, quiet, sunny day, with no FOG! The wind was light, but it was out of the S-SE so we drifted along north towards the Eggemoggin Reach. This was most definitely one of those "the joy is in the journey" kind of days. We were content to idle along in the pleasant sunshine until the wind died completely. We had to motor up to the Reach, but once there the wind picked up dramatically and we were able to sail. In fact, by the time we got to Blue Hill Bay, it had picked up enough that we were screaming along at 6.5 knots. This was fun but the wake from the powerboat traffic was not, so we changed sails from the genny to the working jib. We still maintained a nice 5 knots, but it was a lot more comfortable not pounding through the waves.

Southwest Harbor is in Mt. Desert Isle. The big hills in the background (below) are part of Acadia National Park. After a gorgeous day's sail, we dropped anchor in the harbor around 4:30pm. We went to dinner at the Deck House Restaurant and Cabaret Theater, which was significant for us. Twenty-five years ago, the Deck House Restaurant was actually in Bass Harbor. After sailing for 2 days in fog (yes, that's a common Maine theme...fog in August) on our honeymoon, we finally arrived in Bass Harbor where we stumbled on this neat little restaurant that featured a dinner theater. We loved it, and have remembered it. Wanting to return, we looked it up online before we left on our trip, and discovered the restaurant had been moved to Southwest Harbor, and this is to be their last season. We decided we really needed to be there once more, so that was the ultimate goal of our trip that week.

Saturday: Another beautiful, sunny day. The wind had been predominantly out of the east all the way to Blue Hill Bay. On Saturday, however, as we needed to set off for home again, the wind had shifted to the SW and was supposed to remain that way until we got home. (Ah, yes, it was all coming back to me...the wind off the nose no matter which direction you were going. :)

We took on fuel and water then left the dock around 8:30am. It was very hot and muggy already, and we learned when we got home that it was totally miserable and in the 90's inland that day. It was so good to get back out on the bay with the cool breeze. We decided that while Southwest Harbor was interesting (it's the home of Hinckley boat builders and we saw lots of beautiful Hinckley designs in the harbor) we weren't going to put it high on our list of places to return to unless we were running low on fuel or water, or needed something at West Marine. We thought the small grocery store within walking distance, Sawyer's Market, has a license to steal. Everything in there was just about exactly double what you would pay 2 miles inland somewhere. Although the marina people were very nice and helpful, the small town is very busy and touristy, and just not our cup of tea...or glass of beer. Whatever. Below is a lovely farm we saw as we were leaving the harbor. I'm afraid the small pictures just don't do it justice.
TBear wanted to see pictures of lobstermen. This particular drab olive green lobsterboat was amusing to us. It was called "Lost Airmen." We think somebody might have changed careers. : )
From Southwest Harbor, we motored into the cool seabreeze to Casco Passage. The wind picked up and we were able to sail close-hauled all day. (See? I didn't spend the whole time knitting. I helped. :) We decided to bypass Casco Passage, opting to sail offshore around Long Island and then turn north of Isle au Haut and into Carver Cove at the north end of Vinalhaven.
We passed a lovely windjammer, probably from Camden.
There are a number of ledges, seemingly rising from out of the middle of nowhere. They're marked on the charts, so they're not a problem...unless, perhaps it's foggy, and one doesn't have GPS, and is lousy at dead-reckoning. (None of those applied to us though.) This one had a bunch of seals sunning themselves.
As we entered Carver Cove, we were met with the sight of this beautiful farm. I would love to be able to pick our farm up and set it down right here on this spot. What a cool place to live. This was one of our favorite coves to anchor in, and we'd like to return again.

Sunday: We picked up anchor at 7am and headed northwest out of Carver Cove. It was another beautiful Maine morning...and flat calm...to motor through the Fox Island Thoroughfare. It was going to be a long day to get back to South Bristol so we made coffee and ate breakfast underway.
Going through the Fox Island Thoroughfare, which passes between the islands of Vinalhaven and North Haven is really lovely. I kept trying to get a picture of all the lobsterpot buoys to show TBear, but it was difficult. This picture is looking ahead down the passage with lots of flourescent buoys, but it's still hard to see them all.
This is a picture of North Haven, across the way from Vinalhaven. The two islands can't be separated by more than half a mile.
This is Fiddler Ledge beacon. It's impressive looking standing all by itself in the water on submerged rocks.
Here it is from a distance. You don't want to sail anywhere to the right of this beacon. There is a line of ledge that stretches all the way to the shore. Short cuts will put you on the rocks.
It was about 8am when we got to the end of the Fox Island Thoroughfare. Breakfast was coffee, bread, cheese, and apples.
A lighthouse that marks one side of a narrow passage we took south of Mosquito Island and north of Allen Island. (I can't remember the name of this point, sorry, but I liked the lighthouse. : )
Crossing West Penobscot Bay we started to run into foggy weather again. We had some good, close-hauled motorsailing, which was better than just powering. Whit's theory is if there is any wind at all, raise the sails and make them work for you. (Besides, it keeps him entertained. : ) We managed to cruise along at 5.5 knots on a beam reach through the islands, but it fizzled when we turned back up John's Bay, dying as we reached Witch Island, around which we had to power to get to the mooring in So. Bristol.

Pictured below is more ledge (for TBear's benefit) appearing in the middle of the bay. Unmarked here but marked on charts, and dangerouse if you get too close.
Sunday evening, we tidied up Hannah, packed our gear and headed for home. (Whit is ferrying the first load in and returning with water to top off the tanks, while I do a little cleaning. It's too shallow at any tide but high to get into the dock.)
I have a lot more pictures, but I didn't want to totally bore you all. It was a lovely week of sailing. A little rustic in many ways, but very lovely. With only each other to talk to, we discovered that Whit and I still like each other. (That's always nice in a marriage. :)

I don't think we're ready to move back aboard again just yet. (Okay, Sean, there is that minor detail about the Night Wind not being in very good shape anymore, but even so...) However, a long-term geography lesson for TBear would be a very cool thing to do. We still contemplate it.

One thing we have learned throughout the years is to be content in any situation. We would miss the farm and gardens if we lived aboard again, just as much as we miss the ocean and sailing, living so far inland. I guess we'll just have to keep trading stuff for more time at sea so we can have our cake and eat it too. We assured TBear that we would take him next time. I keep thinking of all the great skills and knowledge we could impart to him.