We woke to one of those dawns full of the magic in the words, “Morning in Maine”; crisp air, clearing skies. It was flat calm but being under power let us thoroughly focus on the view. Looking down the bay full of islands and ledges, past lobsterboats working, to the distant horizon; we could see the faint bar of the semi-permanent fog bank that lurks just offshore through the summer.
We passed through the Davis Straight past the Georges Islands and out of the bay to find a surprisingly large swell running. The wind came up and we set the sails but it died again and just teased us as we motorsailed across to Whitehead Light at the entrance to Muscle Ridge Channel. Half way down to Owls Head, the wind filled in solid and we abandoned our planned stop at Rockland in favor of a spanking beam reach across to the outer side of Vinalhaven.
After this decision, I put a new route from Muscle Ridges to Merchants Row in the GPS and was startled. 18 miles? That can’t be right. I rechecked and realized that all my cruising over the big distances of the past couple years has altered my perspective of Maine. It’s about half the size I remember.
The numerous ledges and islands south of the big island were putting on quite a show in the swell and sunlight for what turned out to be the end of our sail. The wind went light and we ran up into Seal Bay under power.
I’ve been just about everywhere in Maine as far as what you could point to with a name on a fairly large scale map but I could still spend another few decades finding new places. Seal Bay, just off Winter Harbor (which I have been into) is one of those which show what marvelous places can still await one with nearly half a century of Maine cruising experience.
We anchored. Barbara went off on a rowing expedition in the dinghy. The configuration of the rocks and shores here is incredible. There will be pictures but Barbara is the official photographer for this trip so you’ll have to wait until she gets her album put up. I’ll post a link.
The next morning was the other side of Maine. Cold, gloomy fog and rain. We ran over to Camp Island on the far side of Deer Island Thorofare and anchored thinking we were glad not to in the large group of Maine Island Trail kayakers we had been seeing.
The next morning was not much more promising so we ran back into Stonington and docked at the public landing to pick up some supplies and have a quick look at the town. Stonington is now an absolute must stop with the quarry museum and an incredible large scale diorama of the Crotch Island quarries about 1910. The ferry goes to and fro, HO trains run block of stone back and forth, cranes swing them around. There is even an explosion sending blocks of granite tumbling off the quarry face.
The day began to lighten as we ran across to pick up a mooring at Orono Island for lunch which we enjoyed in a bit of sun with just a hint of Mount Desert through the mist. The fog came back thick on the run up to Western Way which we picked our way through glad for the radar which made the sudden appearance of boats a bit less startling. Someone decided to follow us and it was amusing to watch their indecision and brief course diversions as I ran the wrong side of all the green buoys. There’s plenty of water here and I like to be outside the main traffic flow.
The fog began to lift as we ran around into Cranberry Harbor. The wind which was coming on and blowing it up and away also convinced us it was no time to stop. We set the sails for an unforgettable reach and run up Somes Sound with dramatic layers and swirls of dissipating fog blending into an equally dramatic show of low clouds.
The next morning was another unpromising start, anchored up the sound off the end of Sargent Point. We ran down to Southwest Harbor for a stop at Hinckley where we took on fuel, water, ice, pumped out, and did two loads of laundry. Seldom have I been made to feel so welcome at a marina, something I didn’t expect at one which caters to so many large yachts. We could have been one of those 100 plus footers and were talked out of moving out to a mooring while the laundry was finishing up.
We even had a quick lunch at the dock. By the time we were ready to cast off the lines, the sun was appearing, the clouds were thinning, and the wind was rising. We had a short brisk sail past Sutton Island and then down to Otter Point at probably the slowest speed I have ever experienced in Strider under sail. The view was beautiful, we could have spent the afternoon just sitting there.
Once around Otter Point, however, we were on a dead run in lightening wind. After listening to the rig slat around for a while, we rolled up the jib and started the engine, electing to get it over with by skipping the cliff tour.
We ran up through Bar Harbor, and around to anchor in front of the College of the Atlantic where I sit writing this on what promises to be a dead calm, clear, and cool night. In view of the delightful time in Seal Bay, I’ve decided to turn around here and try and discover some more such places on a leisurely return westward instead of making a run for Roque Island this year.
174 mile GPS track to this turn around point, 99 miles straight line.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings.
We passed through the Davis Straight past the Georges Islands and out of the bay to find a surprisingly large swell running. The wind came up and we set the sails but it died again and just teased us as we motorsailed across to Whitehead Light at the entrance to Muscle Ridge Channel. Half way down to Owls Head, the wind filled in solid and we abandoned our planned stop at Rockland in favor of a spanking beam reach across to the outer side of Vinalhaven.
After this decision, I put a new route from Muscle Ridges to Merchants Row in the GPS and was startled. 18 miles? That can’t be right. I rechecked and realized that all my cruising over the big distances of the past couple years has altered my perspective of Maine. It’s about half the size I remember.
The numerous ledges and islands south of the big island were putting on quite a show in the swell and sunlight for what turned out to be the end of our sail. The wind went light and we ran up into Seal Bay under power.
I’ve been just about everywhere in Maine as far as what you could point to with a name on a fairly large scale map but I could still spend another few decades finding new places. Seal Bay, just off Winter Harbor (which I have been into) is one of those which show what marvelous places can still await one with nearly half a century of Maine cruising experience.
We anchored. Barbara went off on a rowing expedition in the dinghy. The configuration of the rocks and shores here is incredible. There will be pictures but Barbara is the official photographer for this trip so you’ll have to wait until she gets her album put up. I’ll post a link.
The next morning was the other side of Maine. Cold, gloomy fog and rain. We ran over to Camp Island on the far side of Deer Island Thorofare and anchored thinking we were glad not to in the large group of Maine Island Trail kayakers we had been seeing.
The next morning was not much more promising so we ran back into Stonington and docked at the public landing to pick up some supplies and have a quick look at the town. Stonington is now an absolute must stop with the quarry museum and an incredible large scale diorama of the Crotch Island quarries about 1910. The ferry goes to and fro, HO trains run block of stone back and forth, cranes swing them around. There is even an explosion sending blocks of granite tumbling off the quarry face.
The day began to lighten as we ran across to pick up a mooring at Orono Island for lunch which we enjoyed in a bit of sun with just a hint of Mount Desert through the mist. The fog came back thick on the run up to Western Way which we picked our way through glad for the radar which made the sudden appearance of boats a bit less startling. Someone decided to follow us and it was amusing to watch their indecision and brief course diversions as I ran the wrong side of all the green buoys. There’s plenty of water here and I like to be outside the main traffic flow.
The fog began to lift as we ran around into Cranberry Harbor. The wind which was coming on and blowing it up and away also convinced us it was no time to stop. We set the sails for an unforgettable reach and run up Somes Sound with dramatic layers and swirls of dissipating fog blending into an equally dramatic show of low clouds.
The next morning was another unpromising start, anchored up the sound off the end of Sargent Point. We ran down to Southwest Harbor for a stop at Hinckley where we took on fuel, water, ice, pumped out, and did two loads of laundry. Seldom have I been made to feel so welcome at a marina, something I didn’t expect at one which caters to so many large yachts. We could have been one of those 100 plus footers and were talked out of moving out to a mooring while the laundry was finishing up.
We even had a quick lunch at the dock. By the time we were ready to cast off the lines, the sun was appearing, the clouds were thinning, and the wind was rising. We had a short brisk sail past Sutton Island and then down to Otter Point at probably the slowest speed I have ever experienced in Strider under sail. The view was beautiful, we could have spent the afternoon just sitting there.
Once around Otter Point, however, we were on a dead run in lightening wind. After listening to the rig slat around for a while, we rolled up the jib and started the engine, electing to get it over with by skipping the cliff tour.
We ran up through Bar Harbor, and around to anchor in front of the College of the Atlantic where I sit writing this on what promises to be a dead calm, clear, and cool night. In view of the delightful time in Seal Bay, I’ve decided to turn around here and try and discover some more such places on a leisurely return westward instead of making a run for Roque Island this year.
174 mile GPS track to this turn around point, 99 miles straight line.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings.
