Yesterday, I motored in rain and haze up into Cobscook Bay. I stopped in an anchorage which, on a combined score of remoteness, wildness, and beauty has few, if any, equals on the coast. I explored in the dinghy and picked mussels and snails off the rocks under clearing skies while eagles flew overhead.
I woke from a short, post lunch nap to blue skies and a freshening breeze. The anchor was soon up and I had a booming sail up to the other end of the bay close reaching at up to seven knots with one reef in. I realized suddenly that this would be the last time I ever sail in a named bay or major body of water in Maine that I haven’t seen before. As Johnny Cash sang, “I’ve been everywhere, Man, I’ve been everywhere.” Mix of emotions, that.
Returned to the previous night’s anchorage for a spaghetti sauce of the mollusks, olive oil, garlic, white wine, and spinach. Just after washing up, I heard what I thought was an outboard boat approaching. I stuck my head out and it was a wall of wind from the north. The next thing I noticed was the trees on shore going by at a brisk rate. I jumped out, started the engine, and started pulling in the anchor line.
It turned out that I wasn’t actually dragging. The current had carried me way up to the limit of the considerable scope required in these waters and the wind was simply blowing me down the over a football field length to the other limit. The change in wind direction had me closer to one shore than I felt comfortable with though so I had some after dinner exercise moving and resetting closer to the other side. All was calm by the time I went to sleep.
I don’t want to risk customs overtime charges so I’m going to poke around the Eastport area and go up the U.S. side of the St. Croix River today and cross over into Canada tomorrow with Saint Andrews as my first stop. The next time I see Maine, the leaves should be starting to turn.
I woke from a short, post lunch nap to blue skies and a freshening breeze. The anchor was soon up and I had a booming sail up to the other end of the bay close reaching at up to seven knots with one reef in. I realized suddenly that this would be the last time I ever sail in a named bay or major body of water in Maine that I haven’t seen before. As Johnny Cash sang, “I’ve been everywhere, Man, I’ve been everywhere.” Mix of emotions, that.
Returned to the previous night’s anchorage for a spaghetti sauce of the mollusks, olive oil, garlic, white wine, and spinach. Just after washing up, I heard what I thought was an outboard boat approaching. I stuck my head out and it was a wall of wind from the north. The next thing I noticed was the trees on shore going by at a brisk rate. I jumped out, started the engine, and started pulling in the anchor line.
It turned out that I wasn’t actually dragging. The current had carried me way up to the limit of the considerable scope required in these waters and the wind was simply blowing me down the over a football field length to the other limit. The change in wind direction had me closer to one shore than I felt comfortable with though so I had some after dinner exercise moving and resetting closer to the other side. All was calm by the time I went to sleep.
I don’t want to risk customs overtime charges so I’m going to poke around the Eastport area and go up the U.S. side of the St. Croix River today and cross over into Canada tomorrow with Saint Andrews as my first stop. The next time I see Maine, the leaves should be starting to turn.
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