Burytherail

Isle of Shoals, Salem

So, now two weeks later, it’s time for me to wrap this thing (blog posts) up.

I left Kennebunkport at around 8 am, a record in earliness for me. Of course, I got stuck in the mud on the way out (it was low tide). A passing boat pulled me off and away we went.

I wasn’t sure how far I would go. I could go all the way home (12 hours) or stop at Isle of Shoals (~5 hours). I decided to decide when I got there.

Again, due to the prevailing wind, I was motoring, with some motor sailing at times. It was a slog. I decided to stop at Isle of Shoals. I had stopped here on the way up. If you’ve never been there, you should go, it is an interesting, beautiful spot.

I picked up a free mooring, put up the awning and had lunch in the cockpit. At some point later (maybe I was napping?) another boat pulled in and took the mooring in front of mine.

This was a true voyaging sailboat – made of steel, the decks loaded with stuff. There was a platform welded to the back, a dinghy mounted on davits, with a solarpanel above it. There was nothing elegant about any of it, but at the same time, the owners, a young family, were out there doing the thing, crossing oceans.

Hopen of Sweden

After a quiet night at Isle of Shoals, it was time for the last leg. Again, winds out of the south meant not much sailing, but occasionally I would turn west and get some motor-sailing in at least.

Rounding Cape Ann I had a bit of weird moment. There was a small rocky island near me, and off in the distance Thacher Island. It was hazy though, so thatcher had a mirage-like quality to it. It was surreal. I knew where I was (duh, Cape Ann) but when was I? It was easy to imagine I was deep in the past. It looked like this – 

Not Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey

Those two pillars are, of course, the dual lighthouses on Thacher Island. They are much less interesting when they are nearer – 

Anyway. The rest of the day was fine, no more time travel. I tied up to our home mooring around two in the afternoon. 

I will probably do this trip again, hopefully make it farther north, as Maine sailing is supposed to get better the farther north you go. I will add an autopilot and a dedicated navigation system though. Hand-steering while manipulating an I-device is no good, especially single-handed.

Kennebunkport

So, I departed Diamond Cove late-morning, planning to get to Kennebunkport or Wells. This was one of those return-from-Maine days. Winds from the South West. No good for sailing. Or at least not if you are looking at the return trip as a delivery, as I was, rather than as part of the trip.

I motored up the narrow Kennebunk River to where I thought be staying for night, only to learn that it was full. I called another place on the river and they had one spot left, but not for another hour. So I went back out in to Saco Bay to goof around while I waited. I had to be in by 4:30, as I had a job interview call at 5.

That all went well. I ended up tied to the fuel dock between several million dollars of power boats. I went into town for dinner and to grab some odds and ends. Kennebunkport is weird. The security zone outside the Bush vacation home is still there –

Diamond Cove

So, the day after finding my piece of Maine granite, I did some boring shore stuff. Laundry, etc. Then motor-sailed to southern corner of Casco Bay. I wanted to start moving in the direction of home and Monday was predicted to be a complete rain-out. On Sunday afternoon, I ended up in Diamond Cove. 

Diamond Cove is a neat place, a former US military site, now remade into an island destination for Portlanders. 

The rain Monday arrived and rain it did. Inch and a half, I think. Left the dinghy with three inches of water in it. I spent the day trying to install the autopilot, which I had been carrying with me in a box. I failed.

There is a piece of old hardware in the way and I couldn’t remove it. Stainless screws, aluminum part – basically they are chemically welded at this point. Usually, you use lanolin to prevent this – yes, sheep grease – but who knows how old this fitting is or what was used to mount it. I also did a couple hours of cleaning. Progress.

I had a hard time sleeping, but I did get this early morning picture as a consolation-prize:

Sunrise, Diamond Cove (4:30 AM!).

Quahog Bay

And so, I did. I put us, me and the boat, on a granite ledge for about ½ an hour. This is not uncommon in Maine but still terrible. Luckily no damage to the boat or to me. I was helped by Andy in his kayak and a power boat that stopped by. They took my main halyard, which goes up to the top of the mast, and pulled Holiday on her side until we floated off. Phew.

A good look at Maine’s granite ledges – and the boat-ledge interface.

It was my fault. I was looking at a possible anchoring spot when it happened. I had turned the boat away from the ledge but didn’t turn far enough. Sailing adage – “Anyone who says they’ve never run aground is lying”. I’ve run aground plenty but mostly in muddy Chesapeake tributaries, way more forgiving.

Getting to that ledge was fun at least. I was able to sail through some of the islands that I had motored through on the way to Boothbay. 

After crashing on the ledge I very slowly went to the nearest mooring I could get, looked all over the bilge for signs of leaks and then called it a day. 

Harmon harbor

It is Saturday and yesterday I finally made it out of Boothbay. The mechanic, Chris, from Bristol Shipyard, was able to get everything back together. Great guy, A+, 💯, 6-7, etc etc.d

Motored over to Harmon Harbor. Should have sailed some of the way but laziness prevailed. Harmon Harbor is small and quiet, a guy called out to me from his front porch telling me to take one of his moorings, so I did. I will put the mainsail up before leaving this mooring, to ensure that sailing happens today.

Leaving this harbor will be fun, as was entering it. It is a narrow slot with breaking waves on either side. I got to listen to them over night here.

Every time I go in someplace thinking I’ll anchor, I find lots of moorings, floating platforms, etc. I’ve been sailing forever but I am an anchoring neophyte, and this is discouraging. Ah well. Remember stoicism:

Don’t hope that events will turn out the way you want, welcome events in whichever way they happen: this is the path to peace. Epictetus

I’ll be spending at least an hour or two a day the rest of this trip cleaning up after the exhaust leak mess. This Chernobyl is one of the cockpit lockers:

Blech.

Boothbay

See Above

“That’s not belt dust,” says the mechanic. Turns out I had a cracked pipe between the exhaust manifold and the muffler (not an exhausted crack-pipe, alas). Ick-tastic. So I’m hanging in Boothbay while it is fixed. 

Boothbay is fine, the library is good, there is a good hardware store within walking distance of the boat. I’d rather be anchored in a remote hole somewhere but that will have to wait. Plus tonight and tomorrow, tons of rain. May as well be getting work done.

Boothbay, Linekin Bay

I got to the mooring in Boothbay around 3pm. After a ten-minute sigh of relief, I rowed over to the dock and then took the longest, best, coolest shower I can remember. I could feel the anxiety abating and my basal temperature getting close at last, after three long days in the sun. Even after being covered head-to-toe and drinking about two gallons of water a day, I was still feeling very cooked, in both the Webster’s sense of the word and the current teen-slang sense.

Best thing was Kathleen arrived. She drove up to spend a few days cruising around Boothbay. A shower, Kathleen, dinner out with someone else cooking? Fabulous.

Next day we unmoored and did some of that sailing. Out around Squirrel (didn’t see any) and Damariscove Islands then into Linekin Bay where we picked up a mooring for the night. Absolutely great sail, like the reason for being-here-at-all kind of sail.

Stops: Isle of Shoals, Biddeford Pond, Boothbay Harbor

After getting rejected for a great fitting (IMO!) job I decided it was time to sail, before it was too late. Too late meaning I would have to find a source of income that would tie me to home. So I did my normal and obsessively started reading about cruising the coast of Maine. I had to be in Boothbay anyway as part of some race committee help, so why not sail there? 

I’ll tell you why not. Three long days, no autopilot and not much wind. An alternator belt slowly sacrificing itself in the form of black dust. Dust that makes a lot of the boat kind of gross to interact with. I spent a lot of time those days sitting at the wheel, listening to a History of Rome podcast, and then on a mooring at each stop each night, wiping down parts of the boat to get rid of the grime. 

Plus, just rowing out to the boat in the dingy to load up before leaving I thought I might puke. Just so stressed and 10,000 10,000-item lists racing through my head. Also thinking of all the ways I might die along the way.

It was all worth it, of course. 

Lara Webb Nichols photo collection from the late 19th century to the mid-20th.