July 31, 2012
“As the miles bubble under the keel, sailors seem to shed skins one after the other until the scales so necessary for living in crowded cities and towns drop away, leaving just the human creature all but naked under the stars. For most, once those scales are gone, they never grow back quite as thick and hard as they once were.” -George Day, Sailing in Thin Water
We left Five Islands on July 31st, the end of our first month at sea. It was interesting to think about all that we had seen and experienced in one month, and I was a little amazed to think that we were 1/12th of the way through with our adventure. We had departed from Haverstraw, New York and sailed down the Hudson River and through the Long Island Sound. We had met friends and family in Port Washington, Port Jefferson, and Newport. We had navigated the Cape Cod Canal and cruised to Wellfleet, Marblehead, Gloucester, and Portsmouth. And we had discovered the Maine Coast, exploring the Southern Coast, Casco Bay, and the Midcoast.
We spent the day on Monhegan Island, which was a fitting end to our first month. We have traveled so far, both physically and psychologically, from busy, suburban New Jersey to the stark, remote outpost of Monhegan Island. I took a moment to think about the scales I had shed so far. I feel as if I have discarded that social mask that one puts on when in society. Out here, it feels okay to be exactly myself. I haven’t screened my words, acted “diplomatically”, or pasted a smile on my face since we left a month ago. I am surrounded by wonderful people all day long who have also shed their scales. It seems as if we are all equally interested in everyone being happy. What scales would you shed if you could? How would it affect your life? Would society fall apart if each of us was a little softer, a little braver, a little less self-conscious? Or would we be an example of what could be?
As the day came to a close, we sailed back to the mainland, to begin the adventures of our second month. We approached Tenant’s Harbor, which is the beginning of the next “section” of the Maine Coast, known as the Penobscot Bay region. The Penobscot Bay reaches far into the state and is flanked on both sides by small cities, protected harbors, and majestic hills. In the center are four large islands (Isleboro, North Haven/Vinalhaven, Deer Island, Isle au Haut) and countless smaller islands.
In the next week, we would enjoy the isolation of Pulpit Harbor; the excitement and joy of spending time with friends in Camden; a picture-perfect evening on Vinalhaven for Chris’ birthday; and a jolly good time with our cousin Lisa in Spruce Head. Sit back and relax, because I’ve got the pictures and a Ship’s Log to prove it all! At the end, you’ll scarcely believe that we didn’t even scratch the surface of cruising Penobscot Bay.
In Tenant’s Harbor, we obtained a mooring from Cod End Marina. We learned that the Cod End is the bag at the end of a funnel shaped trawl. When the Cod End is lifted from the sea, you find out if you have a good catch. I paddled in on our stand-up paddleboard to pay for the mooring and a gentleman on the pier was very impressed that I did it in regular clothes. I told him I was getting more confident, but showed him my money, which was safely stored in a Ziploc bag! The marina, like many others we have seen, is also a restaurant. They steam up lobsters while you wait and you eat them at picnic tables right on the dock. The place was hopping when I got there, but I wanted to get back for my swim.
When I got on the boat, I went down below to grab my suit and my knee completely buckled underneath me. Those of you who are boaters know that you can’t quite walk straight down the stairs of a companionway, but the stairs aren’t quite steep enough to require you to walk down backwards, like one does with a ladder. So you need to rotate your leg and foot out to the side as you walk down the steps. The repetitive motion of walking down the steps with this outward rotation has done something super special to my knee, so now I have to be very careful going up and down. Good thing I only do it about 60 trillion times a day…
I swam anyway and the cold and movement seemed to help a little. Or maybe I was just too numb to feel it anymore. I swam while the sun set and the moon rose. It was so beautiful I could hardly stand it. I got out of the water in time to enjoy chicken quesadillas for dinner. Chris and I spend the evening blogging and planning this next leg of our trip.
The most interesting thing that happened in Tenant’s Harbor is that we made a new friend in the oddest of ways. Bert, who is vacationing in here, saw Patronus sail in from his porch and looked us up online. He stumbled upon our website and sent us a message welcoming us to his quiet little spot in Maine. Thanks Bert, and we look forward to having you and your students follow along the rest of the year!
Hey Erica,
I love your posts. So happy that you all are safe and sound and enjoying your daily experiences. I wonder if Burt is the beginning of a convenient fan club.
Ann W.
Erica. I know exactly what you mean about ‘shedding your scales’ while cruising. We have only been cruising for a week & half & I have she’d all of my scales! I don’t want to go home! Can’t wait to hear about this month’s adventures
Fondly
Lisa museler
Erica, we’re on vacation in Ocean Grove NJ and your posts are bringing even more peace to our preciously peaceful days. Thank you. Love, Fran
From halfway around the world in Singapore, your posts have been an insipiration to get out of the office and create my own adventures! Your posts are fabulous and a joy to read. Miss you!
This is so amazing. I am enjoying so much and am thoroughly hooked.
Thanks so much for following along! Where do you live?