Maine Trip
September 4-9, 2002
aboard BuscaBrisas from Rockland to MDI
(And Return)
Mon02-Rockland Harbor to Matinicus Rock
It's a pretty long haul from Ohio to Maine, but Bilbo and I were
looking forward to some adventure. With the bed of the truck packed and BuscaBrisas
hitched up behind, we set out for Rockland.
It was a couple of hours before dark when we arrived and I drove
around a bit to find the launch ramp (south end of town). I unhitched
the boat at the ramp parking lot and then we went back into town to rustle up some grub,
stretch our legs a bit, and do some grocery shopping. Then it was back to the boat, where I partly
rigged it by the parking lot lights before turning in.
The next morning I finished rigging and packing and noticed that
a seagull had stolen a loaf of bread from the bed of the pickup and a flock of them had fought
over it, leaving only the bag with a couple of slices remaing. I picked it up ruefully and
placed it in a trash can. What robbers!
The ramp at Rockland has to be the most perfect ramp I've ever seen
and it wasn't very busy. The concrete is in perfect shape and at the perfect angle and is as long
as a body could wish for; long enough to use it at low tide and still not see the end of it. I
think the fee was $5 per use and the parking was free. Busca pretty much had the dock to
herself.
We parked the truck, did one last spin around the perimeter of the
parking lot for Bill's sake and then sailed away.
It was a warm, bright day with light air, so Bill and I made
ourselves comfortable and away we went, easing on down Penobscot Bay towards the open ocean. After
a couple of hours, my stomach began to remind me it was empty, so I rummaged around for a light
snack. It was at that point that I thought I'd get Bill a tidbit too but when I tried to remember
where I put his food, my mind drew a blank. I thought. I searched. I thought. I searched some
more. I thought some more....."Whoops! I forgot Bill's food behind the seat in the truck! And
his dish too!". We turned back. Two hours out!
After docking we hustled over to the truck. Sure enough, there was
the food and bowl and a few other small items packed in the small area behind the seat. Another
spin around the perimeter for Bill and once more we were on our way. It was now late
afternoon and the light air that we had on the first go 'round had all but evaporated. Very
slowly we made it out of Rockland harbor into the bay again only to find ourselves drifting
without steerage in the rising tide.
Lobster buoys drifted slowly past. Some of them snagged us as we were
swept up the bay. The initiation to Maine sailing had begun, and I poked the buoy free of the rudder
with the boathook. Near dusk the wind began to fill in enough to make way and we set our
sails for a close reach out to the open ocean.
The plan for this vacation was loosely to go out past Matinicus
Rock in search of whales, then make a straight shot over to Mount Desert Island to the east and
from there slowly harbor-hop back to Rockland. Matinicus Rock is an isolated (now uninhabited)
hump of granite with a lighthouse on it a little over 20 nm south of Rockland. But, as it turned
out, the plan was deviated from as needed and that was fine too.
Darkness fell and Busca moseyed along under full genny and
main, steering herself on a steady course out to sea. I bundled up for the night's trip and
Bill made himself comfy on the berth, snoozing away while the water gurgled and chuckled under
the bows.
Shortly before midnight it started to rain. A very light steady
drizzle that was to last the night, slightly increasing by morning. I huddled in my rain gear
gradually getting colder and wetter as the hours passed. After the last shoal had passed I ducked
into the cabin and grabbed a quick bite to eat, changed into some dry clothes, and studied the
chart yet again, popping my head out the hatch from time to time for a quick look around, but
there was nothing to see but impenetrable darkness.
Tue03-Matinicus Rock to Rockland Harbor
By daybreak the wind had increased enough that Busca was
washing her gunwale on occasion and the swells had built to about seven feet, but were not
especially steep. The trip to weather, although a bit bouncy, was not harsh. By 0600 I decided
to douse the genny and then tacked to the east sailing under main alone. There was nothing but
the grey sky and grey ocean and lots of birds and the occasional seal poking it's head straight
up out of the waves for a breath. I happened to glance back over the port quarter and saw two grey
fins streaking at what seemed like an incredible speed. In a moment the dolphins had passed,
crossing ahead of us.
The weather wasn't looking all that wonderful, so I decided to head
back the way I had come rather than make the trip over to Mount Desert Island. We bore off and
were now scooting along picking up a wave occasionally for a brief surge forward. Again the
hours passed and at last in the distance I made out the rounded hump that is Matinicus Rock. It
seemed to take forever to come up close enough to make out anything about it, but at last we
swept past quietly. I hadn't seen any other boats out until then, and these were lobstermen out
making the rounds of their pots, probably from lonely Matinicus Island, just inshore from the
Rock.
We sailed back up the Bay and, since I was getting pretty tired, I
decided to return to Rockland rather than select a strange new anchorage. If there's one thing
I've learned from my singlehanding experience, it's to error on the conservative side when running
short on sleep.
Wed04-at anchor in Rockland Harbor
Back in Rockland Harbor, I dropped Bill off for a brief run ashore
and then we anchored out so I could catch up on sleep. When I awoke, all was white. I was
glad I hadn't made the trip to MDI, because I would have been out sailing in it, along a strange
coast and very tired. A recipe for trouble.
We spent that day at anchor and finished packing some things away,
cooking up a nice meal, and doing a bit of reading.
Thu05-Rockland to Stonington
The next day was beautiful and there was a pleasant breeze, maybe about
15 kts. After looking at the charts and deciding on a plan, we weighed anchor and sailed off across
West Penobscot Bay towards the Fox Islands Thorofare on a reach. The thoroughfare required some
beating in places but the central part of it was a reach.
For some reason, Busca was one of only a couple of sailboats actually sailing; the others
were powering. We tacked up through the narrows on the eastern end and then bore off as we
cleared Widow Island and then gradually headed back up for the course to Stonington.
The day was perfect and Busca was really making good time. Except
for a brief interval in the narrows, she was under sheet-to-tiller, leaving me to navigate and enjoy
the day, making occasional course corrections. It was pretty exciting to be making this trip, seeing
sights I hadn't seen before, never knowing quite what to expect around the next turn. As often as
not, we were greeted by the sight of some beautiful traditional yacht or schooner.
We were also having exceptionally better luck avoiding the lobster
pot buoys, at least until we were alongside Mark Island. A big schooner was rapidly overtaking us
when Busca slowed and nearly stopped, sails still driving. "Whoa!" I grabbed the boathook
and pushed on the buoy. It was under a lot of tension; the pot below must've been hooked on
something. Finally it popped around the rudder and we took off. I headed up a wee bit so as not
to cut the schooner off as it passed to leeward.
As we approached Stonington, I compared the chart to what was before us
and tried to figure out where we wanted to go to spend the night. The waters in front of the town
were much too busy and for a quiet night and besides, I wanted to be a safe distance from town for
mussel collecting, so after Crotch Island we hung a right and slipped between Crotch and Rock
Islands. The area to the east looked interesting, so we headed that way. There are a few
shoals, or ledges as they call them and the wind was getting kind of gusty and shifty amongst the
islands so I had to concentrate and keep an eye out. We circled around between Green and Potoato
until we came to an open area between Russ Island and Camp Island where a couple of boats were
anchored. It looked like it would be pretty suitable although a bit deep at nearly 40'. We
anchored. Not long afterwards, a big schooner entered and anchored just to the west of
Busca. No sooner had the first schooner anchored when a second schooner sailed in
and anchored just to the east.
Bill was ready to stretch his legs, so we dug the dinghy out,
inflated it, and then I took an empty 2 1/2 gallon water jug, cut a hole in the top of it,
and we rowed ashore.
It was mussel-collecting time! The tide was low, so I picked
a few dozen, enough for a couple of meals. By then Bill had wandered around a bit and when
I pushed the dinghy out, he came running. We climbed in and rowed back to the boat. Once
aboard, I filled the jug with seawater to keep the mussels alive and give them time to purge.
I changed it again a couple of times on two hour intervals. That night I dug out a
big pot and made some mussel chowder. A big bowl of
chowder, some bread and butter,
and a cold bottle of beer and life was fine aboard Busca.
Fri06-Stonington to SWH
We awoke while the morning was still young and rowed ashore for
a walk, then set off eastward again, this time bound for Southwest Harbor. We threaded our
way along the south shore of Deer Isle into Jerico Bay. The wind, which had been good in the
morning, was now dying out so that our speed was less than the outgoing tide. Busca
sailed along, getting gradually swept out to sea. Ahead and to leeward of us was Swan's Island,
so we tacked to avoid going aground or having to anchor or start the outboard. After a while
the wind filled in again and we sailed up to Casco Passage to short-tack through to Blue Hill
Bay. Interestingly enough, several other sailboats going through Casco Passage actually dropped
sail, motored through the passage, and then hoisted sail again on the other side. I'm not sure
if they figured their boats were incapable of sailing through or if they thought motoring would
be less of an effort than a half-dozen quick tacks.
In Blue Hill Bay it was a close-hauled course to the buoy at Bass
Harbor Bar. The wind was still pretty light, but we were making steady progress. A couple of
interesting boats motored past, including the large one below which looked more like a workboat
than a yacht.
Sailing along the southwest shore of MDI, the wind started filling
in some more to the point I should have swapped jibs, but since I was almost to Southwest
Harbor, we just stuck it out, sailing out towards the Duck Islands a ways before
making the cut back in towards Southwest Harbor.
We sailed through the mooring field looking at boats and then
turned up towards the entrance of Somes Sound to look for a place to spend the night. It looked
like it would be a pretty calm night, so a spot along the west shore looked promising. On the
way there, we passed the largest yacht I'd seen so far, Rebecca.
It turned out Rebecca was available for charter for the paltry sum of $65,000/week.
*cough cough*, crew included. To give you an idea of her size, if you look closely
at the pic above you will see a man standing on the boom taking a pic of a woman sitting
in the sail up by the gooseneck. Rebecca's dinghy was about the size of Busca.
The holding ground seemed real good, so we settled in for the
night, whipped up something that would probably be called "mussels scampi",
dug a bottle of chardonnay from the bilge, and listened to the
humble farmer on
Maine public radio.
Sat07-Somes Sound
It was a beautiful morning...
...and I was curious to sail Somes Sound, having driven along it on
earlier visits by auto to Acadia National Park, so we set off on a run up the sound, surrounded
by gorgeous scenery.
At the head of the sound, we stopped short of going all the way into
the harbor but instead turned around and began the long journey back out, sailing from shore to
shore in a series of tacks.
It was nearly nightfall by the time we got back to the narrows at the
mouth of the sound and by then the wind had all but died and the tide was in full flood. We found
ourselves getting swept back into the sound. Reluctantly, I fired up the outboard and we returned
to our spot for the night.
Sun08-SWH to Greenlaw Cove
This was a fun day and a sad day! Today was the day we had to
turn back, but the good part was that the trip back would go much slower than the one out as
we had set a more leisurely pace for the return trip, at least, if the weather cooperated!
Setting out from Southwest Harbor the air was pretty light but
before long it filled in quite nicely, enough that I had to reduce sail to the 80% jib and a
reef in the main.
We beat across Blue Hill Bay back towards Casco Passage and along
the way, I noticed we were slowing down. I looked over the transom for the offending lobster buoy
and nearly choked! There, hooked on the rudder was not one, not two, not three, but four
of the beasts! I couldn't believe my eyes! Wherever had I picked up all those??? When the last
one bobbed free Busca fairly scampered away. I hoped I hadn't dragged them too far.
We short-tacked through Casco Passage. Just as we were about two
thirds of the way through, I spied a dinghy adrift but we were about 15 minutes too late to
save it from washing ashore on the rocks. We set off across Jerico Bay heading this time up
towards Eggemogin Reach. By now the wind had picked up a little more and the waves had the
fetch of the bay to build up chop. It was more of a slog to weather, bobbing up and down
over the waves.
I started thinking of where to spend the night and finally selected
Greenlaw Cove even though the cruising guide said it was rather nondescript. It was calm and had
good holding for sound sleeping.
We still had some daylight left, so I decided to take Bill ashore at
a mud flat along the west side of Campbell Island. That turned into even more of an adventure than
I anticipated: upon hopping out, Bill promptly sank up to his knees and elbows in mud. Being devoid
of any sense myself, I hopped out too...and sank up to my knees. We had great fun wading around in
the mud for a while and then returned to the boat. It took twice as long to get cleaned up in the
cockpit as the walk itself took!
Mon09-Greenlaw Cove to Deer Isle suspension bridge
One of the things I like about sailing is the variety. Sunday
had been pretty windy but this day was quite light. We made it out into Eggemogin Reach on the
morning breeze and then drifted almost aimlessly for a couple of hours before the wind filled
in again. We slowly headed for Brooklin. At the entrance to the harbor, I started the motor
for a trip through the mooring field. It was like a visit to an art museum. The harbor
was populated with boats like these:
When at last I'd had my fill of all that beauty, we headed up
Eggemoggin Reach again towards the neat suspension bridge that joins Deer Isle with the mainland. It
was getting late in the day and I headed for the unamed cove between Stave Island and the bridge,
but it didn't seem as protected as I expected from the chart, so we crossed over to Billings Cove
on the opposite side.
Tue10-Deer Isle bridge to Hatch Cove
The next morning we set out again, passing under the bridge...
and on up the reach coming across a rare Cape Dory 45 (only 3 built)...
and seeing some neat rocky shoreline along Cape Rosier...
to round the corner before Holbrook Island. The radio was calling for
winds of up to 45-50 kts on Wednesday, so I started looking for a nice secure protected anchorage. As we
glided through this cove, it didn't strike me as being quite as protected as I wanted...
so we circled around to the west again and exited on the north side
of Holbrook to head in toward Castine. The wind was supposed to come from the northwest, so I thought
I'd check out Hatch Cove, a shallow cove on the back side of Castine. Most of it pretty nearly drys
out, but there is a bit near the mouth that is deep enough for Busca's 21" draft.
On the Bagaduce River this little sloop came out to play, so Busca
chased her up the river, but couldn't pass her.
Hatch Cove had a few small boats moored in it and they took the best
spots, but Busca managed to squeeze into a spot with just enough water at low tide: 18" under
her keel with the centerboard and rudder up. We were set for the upcoming predicted winds, sheltered
behind some tall trees.
Early that evening all was calm, but after nightfall the wind began to build
a little bit but it really didn't seem like 45 kts at all since we were so sheltered.
I didn't feel like much of a meal, so I boiled a pot of water, cooked
the remainder of the mussels, dug out some cheese and saltine crackers , stacked mussel on cheese on
cracker and oh, man. A pint of Guiness to wash them down and there was the most memorable meal of the
trip.
Wed11-at anchor in Hatch Cove
The next day the wind appeared to still be blowing, so I decided to stay
put and relax. The sky was dark and blustery looking...
...so we watched the clouds race by and listened to a bit of some
September 11th memorials, read a book, and napped.
Thu12-Hatch Cove to Pulpit Harbor
Leaving the Bagaduce River we were sailing against a pretty strong
tide, so it took quite a while to get out into East Penobscot Bay. We set our sights on Pulpit
Harbor and arrived just before sunset. I chose to anchor in the west branch, so we crept in
and before long were anchored along the north shore. That part of the harbor was not very wide.
Busca was probably 20' shorter than the next closest boat, not including a small boat
that lived on a mooring.
Fri13-Pulpit Harbor to Rockland
The news announcer was telling about Maine's worst traffic
accident. During the high winds a van carrying 15 migrant workers had gone off a bridge,
killing 14 of them. The wind had picked up again today to about 25 kts, so I bent the storm
jib on, reefed the main, hoisted it, weighed anchor, and we sailed out for the last leg. Outside
the protection of the harbor, there were three to four foot choppy waves and naturally our
course was pretty nearly directly to weather. We settled in for the haul with the
sheet-to-tiller doing the steering after the first half-hour. Hand steering was a little
smoother because I adjusted our course according to the particular oncoming wave, but that
took a lot of concentration and there were several hours ahead. I was glad for Busca's
faux lapstrakes; they do help to keep the spray down, so at least
the ride was dry if not smooth. A few cushions around helped. A big sailboat pulled out of
Pulpit Harbor behind us and motored off towards Camden, sails furled.
While a noticably higher percentage of sailboats were sailing
than I have seen on the Chesapeake, there were still quite a few motoring around. It seems
there are a lot of people who are drawn to the romantic view of sailing but either have
too many time constraints or are too impatient to deal with the realities of it. At least,
that's the only reason I can find that explains why such a high percentage of sailors motor.
I asked a guy who has many thousands of miles under his keel
what percentage of them were spent motoring, and he estimates that it's over 60 percent.
With that high of a percentage, I'd have to think a purpose-built powerboat would be a lot
more suitable, if for no other reason than the engine maintenance could be a lot easier with
better accessability.
After a while the wind eased, so I swapped to the 80% jib and
before too long we rounded the lighthouse at Rockland and had hauled out for the trip
home.
Sat14-ME to OH
The next morning while packing up for the trip home, a lady was
pulling a dinghy on a wagon and we talked for a bit. She asked if I had been out in the high
winds and I assured her that Busca had been safely anchored during it all. She went on
to describe how the boats had been rocking wildly on their moorings.
As always, I was already looking forward to the next little cruise, wherever it
might be.