My oldest son, Mike, and his girlfriend showed up at the boat midmorning and we headed east on Wednesday. There was zero wind. Just after passing between Peaks and Long island, we ran into that thick and shallow bright fog which seems to wipe out even the boundary line between the water surface you can see and the invisible beyond. It is almost like floating in a cloud and very disorienting.
Coming up to the end of Jewell Island, we began to encounter long rolling swells and I began kicking myself for not thinking about relief bands and ginger back at the dock. Mike has a stomach like mine but Jasmine was an unknown quantity. One thing I’ve learned though, this is no time to ask, “How are you feeling?” Mike asked the question for me and the asked if there was anything on the boat for seasickness. Twenty seconds later Jasmine was feeling a lot better having taken the natural cure.
The conditions were pretty unpleasant. A bit of breeze came up and we set the main to steady the boat. Motor sailing was more comfortable but Jasmine clearly was sinking again. I wasn’t particularly enjoying it either aside from finally being on the way somewhere.
Shortly after we passed small point, the fog began to scale up. I was still pretty intently focused on the radar and the lobster pots suddenly popping into view. Jasmine said, “I just saw a flash of light.” I thought, Uh, oh I wonder if she’s getting really sick? “It looked like lightning.”
I turned towards the land and the fog had dissipated enough towering buildups of cumulus were visible. I fired up my smart phone and looked at the Doppler radar, YIKES!. The connection was too slow out at the edge of cell phone range to get the animation to display so I couldn’t confirm that the cells were moving up parallel to the coast as they usually do. Besides, being nervous lightning on top of being sea sick I wouldn’t wish on anyone and one of my favorite anchorages in this part of the world lay just six miles away up the Back River off the Kennebec.
The RPM’s went up, the main sail came down, and I assured Jasmine that still water was only two miles away. A bit over an hour later, Mike and Jasmine were rowing ashore for a hike as I sat in the cockpit watching an impressive cell passing north of us and another smaller one moving out to sea to the south.
It was a good call to cut short our day, I saw a newspaper item on the Internet the next day about how the sudden severe storm went over Camden and caught the day schooner fleet out drenching many passengers.
Mike and Jasmine returned with a big mushroom she had found. I put our lives in her hands and sautéed the chopped pieces with some garlic and then added rice and spinach. Together with sausage from her family’s farm, it was a great meal.
The next morning, I woke to a brisk wind which had just about died by the time my crew woke up(or, more accurately, were awoken) at 1000. We ran under power around to Boothbay to meet Barbara who drove up in Jasmines’ car. They are off back to her home in Ohio by way of Quebec.
Barbara and I ate lobster in Boothbay at the same lobster shack I used to sail around to from Linekin Bay back when I worked at Paul Luke’s in 1969. We spent the night on a mooring and woke to rain. Doppler radar showed a break so we suited up and ran around to Greenland Cove at the head of Moscongus Sound. The rain came on heavy but we were ahead enough of the wind not to take heavy spray.
I started the cabin heater of Ocean Point and the cabin was warm and toasty by the time we anchored shortly after noon. Chili over polenta, nap, hot shower, relaxing for the afternoon, the rain has stopped but there is nowhere we have to be for a couple of weeks. Life is good.
Coming up to the end of Jewell Island, we began to encounter long rolling swells and I began kicking myself for not thinking about relief bands and ginger back at the dock. Mike has a stomach like mine but Jasmine was an unknown quantity. One thing I’ve learned though, this is no time to ask, “How are you feeling?” Mike asked the question for me and the asked if there was anything on the boat for seasickness. Twenty seconds later Jasmine was feeling a lot better having taken the natural cure.
The conditions were pretty unpleasant. A bit of breeze came up and we set the main to steady the boat. Motor sailing was more comfortable but Jasmine clearly was sinking again. I wasn’t particularly enjoying it either aside from finally being on the way somewhere.
Shortly after we passed small point, the fog began to scale up. I was still pretty intently focused on the radar and the lobster pots suddenly popping into view. Jasmine said, “I just saw a flash of light.” I thought, Uh, oh I wonder if she’s getting really sick? “It looked like lightning.”
I turned towards the land and the fog had dissipated enough towering buildups of cumulus were visible. I fired up my smart phone and looked at the Doppler radar, YIKES!. The connection was too slow out at the edge of cell phone range to get the animation to display so I couldn’t confirm that the cells were moving up parallel to the coast as they usually do. Besides, being nervous lightning on top of being sea sick I wouldn’t wish on anyone and one of my favorite anchorages in this part of the world lay just six miles away up the Back River off the Kennebec.
The RPM’s went up, the main sail came down, and I assured Jasmine that still water was only two miles away. A bit over an hour later, Mike and Jasmine were rowing ashore for a hike as I sat in the cockpit watching an impressive cell passing north of us and another smaller one moving out to sea to the south.
It was a good call to cut short our day, I saw a newspaper item on the Internet the next day about how the sudden severe storm went over Camden and caught the day schooner fleet out drenching many passengers.
Mike and Jasmine returned with a big mushroom she had found. I put our lives in her hands and sautéed the chopped pieces with some garlic and then added rice and spinach. Together with sausage from her family’s farm, it was a great meal.
The next morning, I woke to a brisk wind which had just about died by the time my crew woke up(or, more accurately, were awoken) at 1000. We ran under power around to Boothbay to meet Barbara who drove up in Jasmines’ car. They are off back to her home in Ohio by way of Quebec.
Barbara and I ate lobster in Boothbay at the same lobster shack I used to sail around to from Linekin Bay back when I worked at Paul Luke’s in 1969. We spent the night on a mooring and woke to rain. Doppler radar showed a break so we suited up and ran around to Greenland Cove at the head of Moscongus Sound. The rain came on heavy but we were ahead enough of the wind not to take heavy spray.
I started the cabin heater of Ocean Point and the cabin was warm and toasty by the time we anchored shortly after noon. Chili over polenta, nap, hot shower, relaxing for the afternoon, the rain has stopped but there is nowhere we have to be for a couple of weeks. Life is good.