Year: 2021

Aug 18, 2021

Here we are in Belfast Harbor where we’ve been on “shore leave” from our cruise about ready to move on. In Buck’s Harbor, we read in Points East magazine about a wooden boat building festival, so we decided to check it out and ended up spending five leisurely days getting to know this wonderful little town. With a long public walkway along the waterfront that passes a couple of boatyards, a rail trail up the Passagassawaukeag River, including a sweet footbridge across the river, and downtown just steps away, Belfast has offered us some very enjoyable walks and encounters ashore.

Turns out the boat building contest consisted of exactly one team building a skiff, and when the four-hour timer went off, we were the only people there to bring our applause and capture the moment. Half an hour before, a dramatic thunder and lightning storm hit sending everyone home, so we huddled under a gazebo catching up with my friend Linda who lives in the co-housing community here. We were then treated to an unexpectedly wonderful puppet show about a young girl and boy who find a message in a bottle with a treasure map and make their way in their small boat to a tiny island only to encounter the no-eyed pirate and his two mates who were about the make them walk the plank when Lobster Boy and Crabby save the day! There were other great characters as well, including a giant sea monkey, the kids’ inattentive parents, and the wild and crazy jet ski dude. We were told by the puppeteers that the show was written and puppets created in only three short months by the same three siblings who ran the puppets. Such a joyous treat to escape into puppet-land for an hour. We felt the like the story was about us as our alter egos Harriet the Spy and Encyclopedia Brown. :)))

Earlier in the day, we heard there was a boat swap, so with a wagon full of fresh veggies and other delectable delights from the farmer’s market and food co-op, we wandered down to the two tables only to find the exact item we were looking for: a whisker pole to hold out our tiny jib when sailing downwind. The other item we needed was a boat hook, which served as said whisker pole the day before until, upon “un-deployment,” bend to a 90-degree angle and no longer served its intended purpose. This was fine with me because I could never get it to collapse or extend anyway, and luckily, just up from the boat swap was a small marine store that had a new boat hook, just as unplanned as everything else we’ve encountered!

But that wasn’t all. When we first arrived, we went to the public dock for a pump out and water, but since it was after hours, no one was there, so we ended up staying overnight at the dock thinking we could get the pump out first thing and leave. Well, we ended up being charged for an overnight that we didn’t anticipate, so we were heading out to anchor. Instead, at the boat swap, we ran into Sandy, whom we’d met at the music festival on Swan’s Island, who when asked if she knew of a mooring we could use said we could use her floating dock at the head of the harbor, which has been sitting empty all summer since she only recently launched her boat. Cool! Sandy had bought a boat last year, lived on it on the dock last summer, and was in the process of learning as a solo sailor until she met Guy, a British boatbuilder who has lived in the US for 25 years, so is now navigating sailing in partnership. We managed to tie alongside without being swept under the footbridge or into the shallows by the strong incoming current, and that’s where we’ve been ever since, just off Front Street Boat Yard a short row to the walking path but just far enough away from the marina to feel like we have our space.

In addition to Sandy and Guy, we’ve encountered so many neat people and things here, including Luke, one of the riggers who works in the harbor and runs a small charter boat tied up to the same float; a therapist couple who’ve been living on their Grand Banks 32 trawler for the summer on a neighboring floating dock; Fred who owns a 505, the boat my Dad and I used to race when I was a teenager; Rob, a friend from Portland Community Dance who has been living off-grid and off-the-land in nearby Monroe; Evie, wife of the late Norman Tinker, found-objects sculptor; Alison Langley, wooden boat photographer; Alec, mobile mechanic extraordinaire who came out to the boat for a couple of repairs; the recently restored turn-of-the century steam ship Cangarda; a cool floating shipping container house boat; excellent homemade ice cream; a beautiful loon that visits us every night; plus one giant rubber ducky!

Prior to Belfast, we went from Buck’s Harbor to Horseshoe Cove, a short two miles away at the recommendation of a couple we talked to on the dock while reading Burt Dow by Robert McCloskey. We spent two wonderful days and nights, one in the eerie fog and one in the bright sunshine where rowing up stream, we were treated to some amazing wonders of nature.

We’d asked them where we might find some hiking, so they sent us up a narrow channel beyond the narrow harbor by dinghy to a boulder (you can’t miss it!) where we could find a trail spur on private land that would bring us to the John B. Mountain trail. Well, we didn’t find the boulder, but somehow we found the spur and then the trail and had a delightful hike up and down again and miraculously managed to find our way back to our dinghy following not much more than our instincts in the many forks in the path. It being a hot day for a change, we stripped down and swam in the shallow waters and rowed back to the boat, past Seal Cove Boat Yard, this time at high tide.

The day before we rowed in the same direction, this time at low tide to the reversing falls just beyond the yard, where we went ashore on a spit of land trying to hack our way to the other side of the falls.

We never made it beyond instead encountered dozens of wild mushrooms of many species, which we found fascinating in our ongoing pursuit of psychedelics. Don’t worry, we haven’t tried any yet but are inspired to learn more. And low tide treated us once again to fresh mussels harvested from the sea!

From Horseshoe Cove we had intended to sail to Holbrook Island, but the wind died as it often has this summer, so we stopped instead at Pond Island, just off Cape Rosier, which had a beautiful sand beach and where a schooner was also anchored. The next day we took the long, uncharted way around the outside of the island and had a swim among the rocks and seaweed on the back side overlooking Isleboro and the Camden Hills. As we approached our dinghy I said, “Boy I’d sure like a beer right about now,” and passing a group on the beach, Will asked, “Do you have an extra beer?” to which she replied, “Which one do you want?” We gladly accepted, and I paid her with the perfect sand dollar I’d found moments earlier on the beach, the only one we’ve seen all summer.

Well, that brings us back to our downwind sail around Cape Rosier, around the tip of Isleboro, and on into Belfast. So now it’s on to Castine and Holbrook Island, Butter Island, Seal Bay on Vinalhaven, and slowing making our way back to our home port. We’ll see how those “plans” shape up since most of our plans are really just “ideas” until they are manifested.

Tasha & Will

Aug 9, 2021

Wow, wow, wow!!! That pretty much sums up our last week on Swan’s Island for the Sweet Chariot Music Festival and Eggemoggin Reach Regatta. We’re now in Bucks Harbor, of Robert McClosky fame (Blueberries for Sal and One Morning in Maine) after an exhilarating 17 mile sail from Mackerel Cove up the Eggemoggin Reach once again, under the Deer Isle-Sedgwick bridge, past harbor after harbor filled with masts, complete with soundtrack by Jethro Tull, the Beatles, and the Moody Blues, music to sail by to be sure!! This evening we had our first outdoor shower on land after many on the boat at Bucks Harbor Marine where we read Robert McCloskey’s Time of Wonder overlooking the harbor.

Eggemoggin Reach

Here are some links to our Soundtrack for the Summer:

Lazy Day Sunday Afternoon

Question (before the bridge)

Question (after the bridge)

Anchored in Burnt Coat Harbor on the south side of the Swan’s Island for the festival, we counted on toward 30 boats, including two schooners, the engineless Louis R. French and the American Eagle, which we had the good fortune to tour early one morning in the rain by invitation of Will’s friend Ben and his family who were onboard, and Captain John Foss, who has owned, sailed, and maintained her since 1985. So much history in these 1930 Gloucester fishing schooners.

Burnt Coat Harbor, Swan’s Island

Now in its 32nd year, the Sweet Chariot Music Festival started with Doug Day playing his banjo aboard his windsurfer to schooners anchored in Burnt Coat Harbor. This year it was a three night extravaganza of extraordinary talent from Maine to California, including: Goeff Kaufman who ran the Mystic Seaport Sea Music Festival for ten years and knows every shanty ever sung; Annegret Bair, West African djembe player extraordinaire from Portland and member of Inanna, Sisters in Rhythm, of which I’ve been a groupie for 25 years; Muriel Anderson, the guitar-harp playing powerhouse who sailed into Mackerel Cove last year and was invited to join the line-up again this year; Dean Stevens, the gentle folk singer with a Guatemalan flare; Bob Lucas, the soulful banjo-guitar playing singer-songwriter from Ohio; the husband-wife duo John and Rachel Nichols from Rockport; Eric Kilburn, the mandolin playing sound guy with a large recording studio in MA; David Dodson, the renowned singer-songwriter now living in Maine; Rich and Sandy Jenkins with Bob Hipkins, the show-tune performing trio straight from the Big Apple; and last but by no means least, Suzy Williams, the almost-70-year-old magenta-wig-tutu-sporting singer-songwriter of Stormin’ Norman and Suzy fame from Venice Beach, CA; and of course, Doug Day himself as musician-MC-runner-of-the-roost director, complete with the gorgeous backdrop mural painted by Buckley Smith. How Doug met this diverse group of performers would take many blogs, but suffice it to say, he has been around himself. And as front row audience members prone to enthusiastic rhythmic clapping and dancing, we were much appreciated by the performers.

Sweet Chariot Music Festival, Odd Fellows Hall, Swan’s Island

I also put together a video of some of the acts to give you a flavor:

Sweet Chariot Music Festival 2021

Aside from enjoying the high-caliber music and performances, we were inspired to volunteer our services on the first night in the kitchen making Tuesday Tacos with a bunch of wonderful teenagers where we sang Mary Poppins tunes from their stellar performance as Mary Poppins and Burt at Camden High School, which was a big highlight! Later, we also spent some quality time with Doug’s son Jackson, whose senior project at College of the Atlantic is called Ode to Mushrooms. What a great bunch of young people!

Our efforts in the kitchen meant we were then invited to the “after parties.” The first was at Doug’s house, where I was approached with, “So you made it into the inner sanctum,” which apparently is quite rare for normal audience members, and the second was at the waterfront home of one of the many locals who put up musicians in their homes during the festival, which included desserts and ongoing performances into the wee hours of the morning.

And then there was the shanty boat parading around the harbor with a boatload of musicians in the afternoon while we danced on deck in between sipping wine and eating local steamers. As it so happens, we were responsible for this couple being at the festival having met them at Hell’s Half Acre near Stonington, and here they were invited to participate. It was just that kind of festival, where you see musicians rowing ashore with their instruments.

We also had the great good fortune to be chauffeured around the island by Liberty, a dance friend from Portland, in her custom camper van named Roameo, which meant we were able to visit parts of the island we might not otherwise have seen. Other cools things about Swan’s are the excellent swimming quarry, the local oysters, the many female lobsterwomen, the Swan’s Island Yacht Club with free sailing lessons, and the stone beaches and mossy hikes. As such, we feel we’ve been swept up into the vortex of Swan’s Island such that Doug picked up on our enthusiasm by showing us a wonderous but neglected Japanese tea house adjacent to his property built by his friend that might just be for sale, and then fed us a sumptuous brunch on our last morning on the island. More on that TBD.

Our second destination of the summer after Sweet Chariot was the Eggemoggin Reach Regatta, now in its 36^th year. With over 100 classic wooden boats of all sizes and rigs, our plan was to spectate from NIRVANA. But wouldn’t you know, on the first night sitting next to Doug at the dinner we helped prepare, he mentioned he had a wooden boat and was racing in the regatta, so Will jumped to ask if he needed crew and wouldn’t you know he said yes!!! His 1958 Sparkman & Stephens Valencia was built for the commodore of the New York Yacht Club and was the perfect boat to be on for the race. Aside from a pre-start near encounter with Black Watch, a 68’ 1938 S&S design out of Newport, complete with a matched-t-shirt crew who didn’t look us in the eye when they tacked in front of us onto starboard, it was a very low-key race in a relatively heavy boat and fairly light winds. We ended up 99^th out of 109 boats, which afforded us a wonderful view of all the boats as they sailed downwind with their colorful spinnakers flying. With Will on the mainsheet, me as a floater between jib sheet and camera, and Doug’s son Jackson a human spinnaker pole, it was a dream come true to see all these beautiful wooden boats in one location on the coast of Maine!!!

Eggemoggin Reach Regatta

I’m almost as exhilarated remembering this past week as I was experiencing it. So now we are back to the mellow life of living aboard NIRVANA awaiting the next wonderous adventure on land and sea.

Tasha & Will

Aug 3, 2021

Here we are in Burnt Coat Harbor on Swan’s Island in anticipation of the Sweet Chariot Music Festival, our only destination for this trip, so feeling the need to give another update before the festivities begin.

When we last left off, we were on our way to pick up cousins Joanna and Susan in Stonington on Deer Isle for a short cruise. We had a mostly lovely sail from Northeast Harbor on Mt. Desert, aside from snagging one lobster pot in Southwest Harbor and another in the narrowest part of Casco Passage just between two ledges (!), both of which managed to pop off. Oooffff, there are a lot of lobster pots out here, including “toggles” where one pot is attached to another with a string of pots such that one must not only avoid individual pots but also getting snagged on the line between them. (Stayed tuned for that story!)

Rain again had us holed up in Webb Cove, an abandoned quarry town two miles from Stonington, a large, shallow working harbor with 30 lobster boats and no pleasure boats. We rowed ashore for a look around, which was mostly deserted on a Sunday except for one lobsterman and a rotund truck driver Deer Isle native who supplies most of bait to the lobstermen on the island. And boy could you smell it! Pogies, red fish, and pig hide lined the docks in huge 400 pound containers. Every lobsterman has his favorite bait, and he’s happy to supply it but noted that every fisherman has the same catch as the next, regardless of the bait. His solution to the lobster license shortage? Lobstermen can have as many traps as they want, but they must build their own out of wood, which is naturally biodegradable, just like he did back in the day!

After motoring to the floating Stonington town dock, we tied up for a couple hours anticipating the arrival of our guests. The harbormaster immediately greeted us and regaled us with stories of his father, who was captain of Paul Cunningham’s yacht (who is credited with inventing the “cunningham” line on a sail, if you know what that is), and his family who owns Billing’s Marine down the way. We loaded on bags of high-class provisions from “the big city” for our cruise and had a short but lovely sail to McGlathery Island in Merchant’s Row, where we were gifted with a beautiful sunset, the private schooner, Eros, a wonderful row to the uninhabited Round Island for a swim, as well as other schooner sightings.

The next day we headed out on a fast reach for a ten mile sail to the Eggamoggin Reach, when the wind started to die, so we pulled into the famed Wooden Boat School harbor, the finish line for the Eggamoggin Reach Regatta, coming up next weekend. There were many small sailboats as well as some larger ones that the school takes people out on for sailing lessons. Will and I rowed ashore and toured the classroom sheds after hours, where we saw ten Swampscott Dories being built by students, including Deb Walters, a septuagenarian who had kayaked from Maine to Guatemala as a fundraiser for Safe Passages, an organization that raises money for schools there. Wow!!! Neat and most humble woman! Grilled salmon in the cockpit with yet another stunning sunset over Deer Isle.

Good wind out of the NW so we decided to tack upwind up the reach toward Buck Harbor, of One Morning in Maine fame. We got as far as Torrey Castle Ledge, the start of the Eggamoggin Reach Regatta with seven miles to go when we collectively decided to “not be attached to the outcome,” as advised by Uncle Roland, so we reversed course, taking the wind ten miles SW to Buckle Harbor on Swan’s Island. We all took the opportunity for a swim in the rare heat of the afternoon, and in a moment of total surrender, I invited my cousin Susan to give me a haircut on deck. It’ll sure be easier to wash now that it’s so short!

With rain and wind in the offing, my cousins opted to cut the trip a day short and return to Stonington, so the three women hauled the anchor, and raised sail (while Will wrote intensely in his journal in the v-berth) and made our way ten miles to Hell’s Half Acre, a beautiful confluence of islands four miles south of Stonington between Devil and Bold Islands. With the fierce determination that only three Barth women can have, after three attempts, we managed to hail a lobster boat who sold us six lobsters right off the boat, which they transferred to us by bucket and we cooked up and gorged on in the cockpit. Ohmy! It was a stunning ending to our four-day family cruise.

Thinking we’d head toward Bass Harbor on Mt Desert for water and pump out, we learned they had none, so we motored ten miles in no wind to the famed Hinkley Boat Yard in Southwest Harbor, where we were able to tie up to their dock on a Sunday for several hours, fill our water tank, and pump out our poop. We had a fabulous lunch at Peter Trouts, poked around on a Hinkley that was in the yard for repair (apparently the novice owner ran into a buoy!), then set sail in a nice 8-10 knots for another ten miles mostly upwind toward Mackerel Cove on the north shore of Swan’s Island.

From there, we had a wonderful sail around the east coast of Swan’s through the “back door” toward Burnt Coat Harbor…until, while posing for a picture entitled “My Morning Commute,” I snagged yet another lobster pot, two pots between a buoy and a toggle. Ooooffff!

So Will hauled out the tree-limbing tool we have on board, all oiled up and ready to go from the last time we hauled it out, and we were free…almost. Will cut the buoy off that was dragging, only to discover later when he dove on it with a mask that the line had gotten wrapped around the propeller shaft. Luckily it didn’t prevent us from motoring to our lovely anchorage in the harbor where boats are arriving fast and furiously for the festival.

After a haircut for Will on deck, we went ashore and met a wonderful father-son, carpenter-lobsterman duo, whose wharf we tied up to and who were gracious and fascinating, and though originally from S. Freeport, a wealth of knowledge about the island. He had built not only a lobster shack but a house and two-story garage complete with hot tub overlooking the harbor! We had a wonderful walk to the Burnt Coat Lighthouse and a rocky trail along the shore including a 4’ tall driftwood-stone hut, which we crawled into on the beach. At Fisherman’s Co-op, we chatted up two sisters, both lobsterwomen, one in her 20s and the other in braces, maybe 15, whose extended family owns numerous boats. We’ve heard of and seen a number of female lobsterwomen here, which seems to be a thing on this island.

And now we await another guest on board for the music festival and all the lively music that is yet to follow! We’re getting quite an education about our environs from the many wonderful people we encounter and continue to be excited to be here, in paradise!

Tasha & Will

July 23, 2021

A lot has happened since the first week of July! Last you heard, we were near Port Clyde and the hurricane was about to bear down on us. Today, we’re in Northeast Harbor on Mt. Desert, which feels like another planet after all the remote harbors and islands we’ve visited so far. Here, the harbor is dominated by yachts, and the few lobster boats congregate in the inner harbor. Everywhere else we’ve been, lobstermen are king and we’ve encountered few cruising boats. Here, we can take our trash ashore, do laundry, and have a hot shower. In most harbors we’ve visited, a sign is posted at the dock: “Do not bring trash ashore,” and our hot showers have been powered by the sun or the engine. This is the quintessential cruising boat harbor, and while we appreciate the amenities and experiencing this historic harbor, our preference is for the remote islands where our only company is the loon, eagle, and guillemot.

* * *

The hurricane-turned-tropical-storm-turned-gale had us on a mooring in Maple Juice Cove, where Andrew Wyeth painted Christina’s World. Will put up our custom-made rain cover, née sunshade and painted his first watercolor as the rain poured down. The dinghy was half full of water by the time it stopped, but luckily the storm moved offshore a bit, so the winds were not very strong at all.

The day after the storm we motored 17 miles, past Tenant’s Harbor up the Mussel Ridge Channel to Dix & Birch Islands, the final destination of our cruise last year so held special meaning for us. Yes, you can go back and see it afresh, and still hold the magic of the past along side it. :)))

Finally leaving familiar waters, we sailed eight miles across western Penobscot Bay to Hurricane Island, former home of Outward Bound and current home to the Center for Science and Leadership. We went for a glorious hike around the North end of the island to Sunset Rock and back around to the quarry. On the path we met a couple asking, “Do you know where the big crack is?” We weren’t sure but the one we walked through to get to the quarry was pretty big. They too were there on their boat and looking to upgrade, so we gave them a tour of NIRVANA, which they loved and immediately started looking online for one for sale. They subsequently invited us to hang off their mooring in the un-charted Golden Harbor on Barton Island, just outside the Basin on Vinalhaven.

After spending the afternoon in Carver’s Habor, the main harbor on Vinalhaven, where we anchored in 3’ at low—two hours before and after high tide—we had a delightful sail wing-on-wing out the Reach where we encountered a huge ferryboat in the narrows! We didn’t dare go into the Basin with our boat but tried rowing at an hour after low tide, but it was impossible. The Basin is a huge inland body of water where the tide rushes in and out through a very narrow passage twice a day. By good fortune, we were invited by our friend’s cousin on the adjacent point to walk their private path to the public trail, where we had a long walk around and where we saw a rock with more than 20 seals. A fascinating place indeed!

From there, we headed out past Leadbetter Island on our way to Pulpit Harbor on the north side of Northhaven, where we spent two nights. Our first mission was to fill our propane tank, which we schlepped a couple miles to a guy who would be able to fill it at 4pm. That left the rest of the day at the fascinating North Haven Historical Society museum, with excellent exhibits of early sailing and working skiffs, farming, schooling, and life on North Haven, complete with local commentary by Annabelle, the sweet 18-year-old whose goal is to run the place, after college at USM. The museum had one of the original North Haven racing dinghies, the oldest one-design racing boat still being raced today. Luckily, a passing truck took our trash to the dump on our walk in, and another passing truck gave us a lift back to the harbor with our propane and groceries on our walk back. And what should be our delight in the harbor, but not one, not two, but three gorgeous schooners—Stephen Tabor, American Eagle, and my favorite, J&E Riggin, which had aboard a knitting-dancer I’ve danced with in Camden! Rowing around these awesome boats was a thrill, and to top it off, we were invited aboard a custom motor yacht we both recognized from Casco Bay for a glass of wine and tour.

The next day, we rowed up the small river feeding into the harbor to the North Haven Oyster Co. where we bought a dozen oysters from a help-yourself fridge. We were fascinated by the tiny house on a float at the head of the harbor, which turned out to be owned by the Adam, the Harbormaster’s son (how else do you get permission for such a thing?), where he’s been living year-round for the past couple years. Turns out Adam had his own tiny house in Cabot Cove just around the corner, which we also toured with delight as we passed our fourth schooner, the Victory Chimes, on the way out.

What started out as a fine sail turned into pea soup fog as we backtracked past Fiddler’s Ledge into the Fox Island Thoroughfare, a narrow passage between Vinalhaven and North Haven, but we saw no land on either side. After picking up a mooring, damp and soggy, Will said, “Let’s go to dinner at the Nebo Lodge.” So at 8pm, into the fog we went once more, rowing more than half a mile until we found the most elegant farm-to-table restaurant, formerly owned by Chelly Pingry, our State Representative. The food was excellent, albeit small portions for hungry sailors. And who should be there but none other than Annabelle, our dear historical museum guide! Not much for a young person to do on these small islands, so you kind of do it all.

Around the corner was the beautiful Perry Creek where we sought out yet another floating tiny house (we totally want one!), but just as we were settling in, we simultaneously realized we’d prefer to take advantage of the wind and sail, we didn’t know where. We had an exhilarating reach in 10-13 knots where we hit 8.4 knots, out the eastern end of the Thoroughfare, across eastern Penobscot Bay to Merchant Island, one of the largest islands south of Deer Isle. Picking up a giant mooring, we discovered mussels growing on the pennant, which we harvested and ate for supper with garlic and wine. Will’s comment, “So that’s what mussels are supposed to taste like!” The next day, we rowed ashore on the adjacent Harbor Island where we saw the J&E Riggin sailing past in a picture-postcard view and had a picnic on our own private crushed shell beach. Ohmy! Our second favorite island so far.

* * *

I will pause here, as just remembering all this is taking my breath away with all its splendor and wonderment! Each place we go feels like it’s more amazing than the last! And so it goes when you’re on an adventure, where the outcome is unknown until you’re living it.

* * *

Despite the ongoing “patchy drizzle” and fog as reported for days on end by NOAA, we decided to motor a short three miles from Merchant to Isle au Haut, where we picked up a mooring just off Kimball Island. It turned out to be owned by none other than the Kimball’s, but we were assured by a local fisherman we’d be fine. Wandering ashore in our rain gear we visited the small gift shop, chatting with the owner and her husband for nearly an hour; the town hall/library, complete with a tour by the proud librarian; the church up on the hill; the Acadia National Park ranger station; and the well-stocked grocery.

The next day, the fog was still too thick to make a hike in the outlying Acadia National Park worth it, so we sailed 18 miles across Jericho Bay, past Swan’s Island to Frenchboro (Long Island), where we spent two wonderful days on the most remote inhabited island yet. In 24 hours, we’d met probably half the island, among them Eric, a recent transplant who lived in the oldest house on the island and gave us a tour of his unusual “Joshua” ketch and the book he wrote about his solo voyage to Hawaii; John, who used to run Lunt Lobster and Deli and made us a to-go sandwich after a tour of his cottage; Daniel, the lobsterman who gave us a detailed explanation of the nuances of a lobster trap; Daniel’s wife, one of the three members of the selectman’s board who made us each a lobster roll on the spot; the twice-a-month tax man at the town hall who gave us the inside scoop on all the properties that owe back taxes; Jen, the pastor turned chef of the Deli, where we had among other things, blueberry pizza (try it with ricotta!); Rick, a friend of Will’s from Concord with whom he’d played soccer for 15 years; and Zach and Nate Lunt, who 25 years ago, did a video with my mother when they were in grade school and who showed us the whale bone they collected and their huge stuffed moose! It was a very special place with not much to do except walk around the island and enjoy the slow-paced beauty of island life.

The morning of departure, I rowed to shore with The Little Prince, the book we’d borrowed from the 24-hour library repeating the mantra, “It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” And this after so much splendor of the eye and heart. And there is so much heart energy flowing between human and nature, human and human, and Will and I. It’s all we’ve ever wanted—to be in constant flow with nature and each other in a way that’s planned only by what happens next. Ohjoy!!!

Until the next episode!

July 8, 2021

Time for another update! We’ve been living aboard for a month now and are loving it all—the sunny days sailing in perfect wind, the rainy days hunkered down in the cabin, the cloudy days sailing when only the fishermen are out, the rows ashore to explore our current environs, and the long spells of time at anchor puttering, cooking, eating, reading, and sleeping. It’s a glorious life of mindless leisure being where we are interspersed with mindful activity getting from here to there. 

Working backwards, last night we were in a little group of islands near Port Clyde—Caldwell, Teel, and Stone—where we had a wonderful row and were invited ashore by the owner of Stone for a hike around, accompanied by one of her dogs. After the previous night in Port Clyde, we rowed to the town dock for breakfast at the General Store, a walk to Marshall Point Light, and a stop at the Herring Gut Learning Center, started by Phyllis Wyeth, where we were given hydroponic lettuce and basil. We were about to leave Muscongus Bay when we learned about the hurricane marching up the coast, so we decided to stay put. Now we are in Maple Juice Cove, which is more protected and the Olson House is just up the hill, the site of Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World.

We had cousin Joanna and her dad, my uncle Roland aboard for a two day cruise after a huge family lobasta feed on the 4th in Round Pond, my old hailing port. We brought NIRVANA in to the dock and people came aboard for an “open boat,” including my mother, who is getting around using a rolator these days, and a 10-year-old boy named Julian, who is learning to sail at sailing camp. Our cruise took us to Harbor Island, an old favorite, Monhegan, where Will and I had a couple hours to explore the almost-too-precious famed artist community, and “Betsy’s World” in George’s Harbor, a narrow opening between two islands owned by Betsy Wyeth, Andrew’s wife. 

Before our mini family cruise we anchored in Greenland Cove in Muscongus Bay and paid for our first mooring in Christmas Cove on the Bristol peninsula. We had a fantastic meal and our first hot shower ashore at Coveside, where for decades, passing sailors have left their tattered burgees. My friend Christine happened to be working a mile away, so we arranged to borrow her car to “go to town” (Damariscotta), my old home town, to do some provisioning and laundry. Quite a contrast to living aboard, going to the big city!

We set out for good the last week of June headed for South Freeport, where we ended up staying for three days on a friend’s mooring, taking advantage of the wonderful people at Brewer’s Marine, first to go up the mast to install a wind indicator and second to come aboard and check our engine after hearing a mysterious clanking noise. That day, we got intimate with our Yanmar as we tightened and then changed the alternator belt and learned a whole lot more than we knew before; it’s all good. 

Setting out from South Freeport, we went to Snow Island in Quohog Bay, where we had a nice row around the islands and cocktails aboard Septemtrio with a couple from MD, just retired and out for the summer. They extolled the virtues of Maine, as do we as we, living and loving every minute.