We headed Down East (Chris and I have a bit of a competition going to see who can use “Down East” more often in conversation, now that we’re all local and know what it means..) towards Seguin Island.  This island is even more remote and held the promise of freedom, nature in the wild, and quiet.  I have a memory from 1994 of the most intense quiet I have ever heard.  I felt like I might have a similar experience somewhere in Maine.  I spent a weekend on an island in the archipelago of Stockholm, far from the mainland.  The silence of that place filled my ears and overcame my senses.  It was a quiet that made the sky above seem bigger and blacker than it ever did before.  It pressed in on me and yet made the world seem infinite at the same time.  Have you ever experienced that?  Well, Seguin Island was NOT the place I would experience it…

We pulled in to the harbor and found the 4 Coast Guard moorings that the cruising guide promised.  Anchoring here is not recommended, so we were glad to see that only one other boat was using a mooring.  We set our mooring but were unhappy with our proximity to the shore and the other mooring.  It seems that a 47 foot boat is on the large side for coastal cruising in this part of the country and the moorings are set up with smaller boats in mind.  Luckily, the other boat left, so we moved to their mooring.  No other boats arrived the entire time we were there, which, as you will see, was a VERY good thing.

We packed up our backpack with bug spray and waters and set out for another exciting day, exploring what seemed like a quiet island.  We were not disappointed.  First thing, we discovered a composting outhouse that was built by a Boy Scout for his Eagle Project.  It was a great “port-a-potty” and it was clean and well built.  It’s funny how living on a boat will quickly make something like an outhouse a highlight of one’s day.

A short hike led us to the lighthouse, which sat atop a hill with views in every direction.  It was stunningly beautiful in that windswept, desolate way that only lighthouses hills can seem to conjure up.  Finding a snake was the only drama around.  Even the lighthouse keepers were nowhere to be found.  A walk along the northern shore of the island introduced us to the keepers, who were out for a walk.  From North Carolina, they applied for the sought-after volunteer position to be keepers for the summer.  They told us what it was like to live on an island all by themselves, with only a weekly mailboat to bring supplies and contact to the rest of the world.  Luckily, they enjoy the visits from recreational boaters and the lobstermen, who leave “extras” for them when they fill their boats early in the day.  Sounds like a very cool retirement schtick to me.

We hiked the rest of the island and returned to the dinghy, happy to see that we had not made the same low-tide mistake again!  Back to the boat for a paddle/kayak/swim and then we got ready for a storm that was coming in.  We went to sleep, knowing we would be up at some point during the night.  We listened for the wind and the rain, and sure enough, it woke us and gave us quite a scare.

If you follow us on Facebook (Like our fanpage: conwaysailors), you already know from my updates the next morning that it was quite a night.  Chris was up for quite a while.  In the darkness, with the waves crashing on the rocky shores close by, and the eerie sound of the fog horn, it was hard to tell what was happening.

standing watch at 4am

Then I heard a crash against our hull.  I ran up top and saw that we had bumped into one of the other Coast Guard moorings.  We were nowhere NEAR this mooring during the day, so now we were convinced that we were dragging our mooring.  As I have mentioned, our boat is on the larger side for coastal cruising, and it seems that many of the moorings are not heavy enough to hold us.  Our cruising guide didn’t mention a size limit on these moorings and neither did the lighthouse keepers, but it is hard to convince yourself of these book facts in the middle of the night during a storm.

the waves I knew were crashing on the nearby rocks

We decided that I would stay up on watch for the rest of the night and try to gauge whether or not we were dragging.  At least I got to wear my new Helly Hanson foul weather gear!  I bundled up, made my Chinese herb “tea” and grabbed some Biscoff cookies to keep me occupied when I wasn’t standing on the stern, staring into the darkness.  The only thing I could make out in the pitch blackness was the white froth of the waves as they crashed into the rocks, in what I hoped was the far distance.  But the longer you stare at that whiteness, the closer it seems to get.  The wind was swinging the boat through 180 degrees, so in fact, we were closer to the rocks at times.  It was hard to discern if we were swinging safely or drifting toward the rocks.  Twice I almost woke Chris up, thinking that we should start the engine and just leave, but I knew that we were safer attached to a mooring than trying to sail off into oblivion.

sunrise never felt so good

Slowly, very slowly, the sky began to lighten.  Part of me was relieved to know that the end was near, but as the rocks blurred into view, I was more and more convinced that we were closer than we were during the daytime, even with the swing of the boat taken into account.  The eyes play tricks in the morning twilight, so I stayed calm and watched the depthsounder, which didn’t budge from 23.8 feet (that made me feel better).  So did my tea and cookies.  Eventually, I busted out my Guide to the Maine Coast and started reading up on our next few stops, glancing up every paragraph to make sure we weren’t getting too close to the rocks.

Chris checks for damage from banging into the mooring

As soon as Chris woke up, we got things ready to go and pulled anchor.  We left Seguin Island with the joy of spending a peaceful afternoon roaming around and also the confidence of having weathered our first storm.

Stay tuned for more on Maine’s beautiful coastline and to see if I could possible write a whole paragraph without using parentheses (probably not), or too many commas.

paddleboarding before dinner

snakes at the lighthouse

helicopter landing on Seguin Is.

a baby seagull (?) we found on our hike

good dinghy. stay.

Fresnel Lens at the Seguin Is. Lighthouse

Patronus in the harbor at Jewell Island

(the next few posts have been delayed due to limited internet access.)July 22, 2012: We woke Sunday morning and readied to leave Portland and head Down East (North), as it is called up here.  Down?  None of the locals could explain this to me.  We are going towards Canada.  That is NOT DOWN. The reason behind this term, in case it is bugging you as much as it did me the entire time we were in Portland, is that the Maine coast really heads Northeast, and the prevailing winds are from the south.  Southwest winds, when you are traveling Northeast, mean that you are sailing “downwind”.  Thus, Down East.  I really do feel better now that this seemingly incorrect term has been demystified.  Thanks again, Wikipedia.

picturesque Jewell Island

Thanks to the many suggestions we received from our friends Jason and Erica, we decided to sail to Jewell Island today and anchor overnight.  We have until Wednesday to get to Boothbay Harbor, so we can take our time exploring a little more of Casco Bay and the Midcoast.  The Maine coastline, over 5500 miles in length with over 6200 islands, is divided into 6 sections: The Southern Coast (Kennebunkport), Casco Bay (Portland), Midcoast (Boothbay Harbor), Penobscot Bay (Rockland, Camden), Mount Desert (Bar Harbor), Down East, and Passamaquoddy Bay.

The coast has turned decidedly rocky, the water is really starting to get chilly, and no matter how warm and sunny it is during the day, it is FREEZING at night.  Could I be happier?  The answer is no.  I could not.  Cold water AND cold nights?  In July?  The Norwegian in me is doing the jig right now.

Although we woke to little breeze, by the time we pumped out, filled the water tanks, showered, and checked out of the marina, the breeze had filled to 14 knots from the South.  The waves were 5’ on our beam, so we had a chance to teach Bryson how to drive while compensating for the rolling.  I had a chance to practice as well, as it has been years since I drove a sailboat in big seas.  Patronus handled well when we used the right touch.  Wait for the wave to roll the boat….A hard turn to port and then a quick turn back to starboard.  You have to get the timing right, or you will start a rolling motion back and forth that can get out of control.

The weather was warm, sunny, and clear.  We had nothing to do but enjoy watching the islands go by on the beautiful Maine coastline.  I felt a little like Elliot Merrick, who wrote Cruising At Last.  He and his wife cruised the Maine coast for years after retiring and he writes beautifully about the joys of sailing in sparkly, sunshiny days and all the quaint, out-of-the way harbors they visited.  A mere 10 miles and two hours later found us rounding the nun (red buoy) at Jewell Island.  We glided into this pristine, narrow cove and quickly realized that we were in for a treat.

But first we had to anchor in between several day-tripping boats, with shoals to the port and a visible reef, even at high tide, to starboard.  We set the anchor and watched our position for 45 minutes.  When a boat further into the cove departed, we decided to move to their spot, which was located more towards the middle, in deeper water.  I’m glad we did.  We would have been nervous about leaving Patronus in the first location, especially if the wind shifted to the North.

After a quick lunch, we dinghied into the little beach at the head of the cove.  The tide was starting to go out, so we left the dinghy in deeper water and used our long anchor and line to hold it.  Off we went, up the trail, and into the woods.  Our cruising guide told us there would be “overgrown trails with…rich history…leading to craggy beaches and sub-sighting towers.”  The trails were definitely overgrown.  At times, we felt like trailblazers, trying to figure out which way to turn in the bushes.  There were a few trailmarkers, which helped us find the World War I and II sub-sighting towers.  We climbed them to take in gorgeous vistas of Casco Bay.

The kids had a great time spotting remnants of life during the wars, such as foundations, pipes, and even a concrete pad that held 6-inch guns which could shoot 100 pound shells 15 miles.  I’m not sure I actually believe that.  15 miles?  Come on.  We even discovered spelunking, although we all ran out of courage about 15 feet into the cave.  Just when the bugs were really starting to bug me (they LOVE me and I was really getting bitten) our trail opened up to a craggy beach, just like the cruising guide had promised!  Thank goodness, because Chris had decided my new nickname was going to be “Bug Spray” (the bugs all go to me and leave everyone else alone).  As long as I’m around, they are all safe.  It was fun to explore the slate beaches at the south end of the island.  We had great views after climbing the slate (see Brendan?  I can climb rocks!) and found lots of sea glass.

we put reese in jail in an abandoned building

We had been hiking for hours, and the kids had not complained once.  I thought about how much fun they were having and that we had not spent one penny all day.  The sailing, the free anchorage, and exploring all day had cost nothing compared to previous days, which had been filled with dinners at restaurants, museum fees, small gifts, and ice cream shops.  Well, never mind on the ice cream shops.  That’s always worth the price!

the punchbowl, created by the lowtide

Before heading back to the boat, Chris was determined to find the “Punchbowl”.  At low tide, the slate ledges that circle this beach damn up the water from the bay and create a tide pool with “warmer” water, according to the guide (It was still freezing.).  It was really pretty and we found a little path that led us to a spot overlooking the cove where Patronus was anchored.  It was a great spot to take some full-length pictures of her with a beautiful background.

can you see our dinghy?

From this spot, we could also look towards the beach where we had anchored the dinghy.  Our dinghy, which still suffers from having no name, decided to pose more drama for us by getting completely beached in the low tide.  I’m not talking “five feet beached” like on LBI.  I’m talking 150 feet away from the water’s edge.

We picked our way slowly to the dinghy along the edge of the cove, which was comprised of seaweed-covered slate.  It was VERY slippery.  I insisted on holding Porter’s hand, until we both realized that I was slipping more than he was.  He tactfully suggested that I go ahead, since he is “much better at not slipping” than I am.  When we got to the end, he asked if I wanted my picture taken, to show that I made it.  I swear I am just going to eat him up one of these days.

Once we got to the dinghy, we had to figure out a plan to get it back to the water (a plan that did not involve waiting 6 hours for the next high tide!).  The dinghy and outboard together weigh 305 pounds.  We decided to take the outboard off and carry it to the water’s edge and then go back for the dinghy.  Both are heavy and unwieldy.  Bryson held his own as the young man he is by helping us carry the dinghy.  We couldn’t have done it without him.  Our crew is turning into a regular little team, with Reese taking pictures and Porter videotaping the scene, which we knew would prove entertaining to our friends and family:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YXAM_o75bMU

the outboard goes back on

The whole rigmarole took at least 45 minutes, and then we were on our way back to Patronus.  She was still swinging safely on her anchor.  We felt like we had had a full, adventurous, and eventful day.  We were the kind of tired that comes from playing hard.  Back at the boat, we stripped down to get our poison-ivy-covered clothes into quarantine, hosed everyone off, and started dinner.  We enjoyed sausages from the grill, macaroni and cheese, and salad.  Chris even shared his special new chocolate from Iceland for dessert.

this is what it’s all about

We had  a new moon so it was pitch darkness except for the stars and the swaying anchor lights at the tops of the three masts in the cove.  I was bundled in thermal leggings, my favorite socks, and three shirts.  We fell asleep in absolute darkness, listening to the howling winds, which rattled our rigging and caused the peaceful water in the cove to lap against the boat in the friendliest of ways.  This is how Maine is supposed to be, and we love it.

rockclimbing

my little cutie climbing up the rocks

spelunking

Porter and I bail out quickly on cave-exploration. Too spooky.

i see a face in the left side of this cutout

lots of laughs after Dinghy Drama II

Maine!!!  From early on in our planning stages, we knew we wanted to get to Maine.  It seemed so far away, like it would be quite an accomplishment just to get there.  We have only been to Maine for sailboat racing, which means we saw nothing but the coast, fog, and the party tent after the race.

pancakes on deck – yum!

Our sailing trip to Portland included pancakes from scratch, made by our Captain/Chef Chris.  We also saw our first dolphin of our trip.  We hope to see many, many more in the months to come.  Chris and Bryson installed an extra halyard, Reese started A Wrinkle in Time, and I….wait for it…..cleaned the teak.

beautiful charts. lots of little drawers. this seriously does it for me.

Portland is a large, bustling seaport, but our friends from home vacation there and have told us all about it, so we knew it would be something special.  The only downside was that our itinerary could not coincide with their visit.  After researching the many options for mooring, we chose the Portland Yachting Center due to its close proximity to the Old Port area as well as its facilities, especially their laundry room.  A bonus is that it is next door Hamilton’s, one of the largest marine supply stores north of Boston, and Chase’s, a purveyor of charts (like bookstores, a chart store is a cozy place, full of tall, perfectly labeled chests that hold the large charts in wide, shallow drawers.  Charts are beautiful works of art, but I won’t go on and on about it, although I could.)

Upon getting out of our dinghy, we met Jason, who works at PYC, as well as doing other marine-related work, as we found out.  His friendly smile was one that couldn’t just go by with a nod or a brief “hello”.  We stopped to chat with him and, of course, told him all about our trip.  He lives aboard his boat as well and is originally from Bar Harbor.  He offered to come by after work to go over our charts with us and suggest places to visit as we headed up the coast.  We were again touched by the kindness that we are finding on our trip.  I found myself wondering throughout the day, “Is he REALLY going to come by after working all day just to help us out?  We are complete strangers!”

we eventually got our breakfast…

The kids were getting kind of antsy while we were talking to Jason.  After all, it was 1030 and we had not yet eaten breakfast.  We were on a mission to find a bakery with muffins and our chance meeting was not a welcomed delay for the kids.  Once we started walking toward town, we had the opportunity to have a long conversation with the kids about why we are on this trip.  We told them that it’s not about the museums, the new places, or even the thrill of sailing.  It is really about spending time together as a family and about making connections with people along the way.  We talked about the serendipity of meeting Jason and learning about his life as we shared parts of ours with him.  We talked about how he lives in Maine and lives a very different life than ours back in New Jersey, but that when he told us how he feels “at home on the sea”, we recognized that that is exactly how mommy feels.  We talked about the similarities and differences in people and how life is about how many times your heart can touch another’s.

taking a break from the non-stop excitement in our hammock

After our Lesson in Philosophy, we walked to Hamilton Marine and the Old Port section of Portland.  As is becoming customary, we met amazing people all along the way and had some singular experiences.  I remember reading books about cruising families and wondering how they managed to have such interesting experiences.  I imagined our trip many times this past year and was so afraid that we would just get up, get dressed, go the beach, sail around, and would come back after a year without much to say.  Oh, contraire.  Drama, excitement, and great experiences seem to be finding us everywhere we go.  And we are still in Week Three!

After walking the length of Commercial Street, along the water, we found ourselves at the dividing point between the cute shops and restaurants, and the area of town where the real fishing industry is done.  We were literally in the process of turning around to head back where we came from when I had a thought.  We are in Portland.  This city, and this state, is about fishing, lobstering, and living on the sea.  We should find a way to show our children what the fishing industry is all about.  But they don’t have fishing museums here.  And that’s not really a way to learn about something anyway.  Not really.  So I said, “Come on, guys.  Let’s go check out the fishing industry!”

You would have thought I had suggested that we fly to the moon.  My shy and unobtrusive family already thinks I’m crazy, but I think I’m like Julie from the Love Boat.  You know, the adorable Cruise Director? So I marched my crew through an enormous parking lot that surrounded three gigantic warehouse buildings.  We went in the first one and I said to the woman in the front office, “Hi! We’re on a year-long sailboat trip with our children! We would like to learn about the fishing industry!  Is there anyone available that we can talk to?!”  (yes, I spoke with the exclamation points.)  She looked pretty skeptical and said she would be back in a few minutes.  Sure enough, she returned to tell us that Regulation XYZ  of the TSA (yes, the airport people) prohibits tours of the blah, blah, blah.  Got it.

So we left the building and Chris and the kids started walking towards the street, where the normal families were picking out Portland t-shirts, buying fudge, and signing up for amphibious bus tours.  Oh no, says Erica.  There were two other huge companies in this parking lot.  I told them that we were going to try all three.  If we got turned down from all three, we would give up.  The second building was another no, being as it was deserted.  As we approached the last building, whose sign read Portland Fish Exchange, we saw two men taking a break outside in jumpsuits and waders.  They greeted us with friendly smiles and, in my head, I checked off “Learn About Fish Industry” on my little imaginary Julie clipboard.

our new friends Fred and Jim

We introduced ourselves and they said, “Sure!  Come on in!”  Portland Fish Exchange is a fish auction house.  The fisherman have the option of bringing their fish to the auction house and allowing them to sort, prep, store, and auction off the fish to wholesalers.  In return for a small cut, the fishermen are guaranteed payment, which may not be the case when they sell directly to the wholesalers, restaurants, and other buyers. We got to go in the huge refrigerated warehouse and see the crates of fish waiting to be auctioned.  This being a Friday, fish had been delivered that morning from the Thursday fishing trips, but there would not be an auction until Sunday.  The reason, we learned, is because the fishermen would not go out on a Friday.  If you remember my post about maritime superstitions, you will recall that it is bad luck to begin a trip on a Friday.  I was enthralled to hear that this practice lives on today.

Our new friends, Jim and Fred, told us what they do each day.  They told us how much the industry has changed in the last 5-10 years.  We learned about the sketchy end of the fish industry, full of gentleman’s agreements that are not honored, variable pricing, and non-payment after the fish is already long gone.  We really did not want to leave, but we had to let the men get back to work, and the warehouse was COLD!!!  We took some pictures and Jim promised to look us up online.  Hi Jim and Fred!  Thanks again!

We left the PFE and I was gloating all the way back to the main road.  I insisted on being applauded for my bravery and persistence.  It was amusing right up until the rest of the conwaysailors threatened to throw me overboard when we got back home.  Seriously, though, we did take that opportunity to talk about having the courage to ask when you are interested in learning about something new.  We talked about how we learned a lot and had a great time, but that Jim and Fred most likely enjoyed the interaction as well.  We explained to the kids how it was probably nice for them to be able to share what their daily life was like with people who were genuinely interested.  It may have made them look at their work a little differently for that day or gave them a smile to think that they helped us understand something we knew nothing about before.  Again, the connections we made with these men were what enriched our day; not the views, the food, or even the interesting things we learned about the fishing industry.

But all that learning made us hungry, so we stopped at Perry’s Sidewalk Café for some lunch.  Perry is a hoot and a half and took pictures of us for his Facebook fanpage.  We had a great time talking to him and he was as generous with his knowledge of Portland as he was with his lemonade.  His stand is a must-do for fun and hungry people if you are in Portland.  He is located right next to the entrance to DiMillo’s Marina and Restaurant.

Other highlights of Commercial Street included a stop at the main location of Sea Bags, which is my idea of one of the most fascinating women-owned, creative, and environmental companies.  They make GORGEOUS bags, purses, and other items from sails that are no longer in service.  As a sailor, I drool over every single one of them, with their large sail numbers, anchors, or stripes on the sides and their rope handles.  We were lucky enough to meet the proprietors and they were as excited to hear about our trip as I was to meet them.  If we had stayed longer, I would have asked for a part-time job.

A trip to the organic produce market completed a very busy day, but we had one more treat in store.  Chris, Bryson and Reese took the dinghy to the big wharves in town and bought lobsters right from the fishermen there.  We steamed them up, two at a time, and had our first lobster dinner on the boat.

Just as Reese was cracking her last claw open, up came our new friend Jason and his girlfriend Erica in their boat!  I was so excited that they really came to say hello.  Erica was so lovely and talked to us about living on a boat and homeschooling.  Jason told us about the best harbors to visit and warned about spots that only local knowledge can give you.  It was Friday night and they were planning on cruising to a few different places for the weekend, so, much too soon, they jumped back in their boat and went off to explore their coast and enjoy its spoils.  I imagined them, young and carefree, sitting on their boat and laughing in the moonlight in some quiet little cove, just around the bend somewhere.  They are special people and some of the folks with whom I wish we had had more time.

The next morning, we enjoyed a ride on a narrow-gauge railroad (it seems like a toy train) and Maine’s narrow-gauge railroad museum.  We also walked (forever) to see the Portland Art Museum.  When we returned, Chris had purchased a replacement stand-up paddle board from a local board shop.  The owner drove the paddle board out to our marina and took our broken one back to his shop so that he could mail it back to the store where we had purchased it.  More nice Maine people.  Geez!

my favorite from the museum

naughty Porter “admires” the mussel-shell dress at the museum