7-27-2024

 

We have been summer cruising on Carrie Rose for at least 12 years and have owned her since 2003. In that time, we have docked thousands of times. It could be for fuel, a pump out, loading water, picking up guests or to dock for the night. We have done this all over eastern North America on lakes, rivers, and the ocean. And in that time, I would think - or wish – I had less anxiety about the process.

 

The task is not inherently difficult. It is the circumstances of each docking that make it a challenge. Wind, tide, and currents play into the mix as does each dock’s peculiarities. Charlotte and I have developed a system, she stands at the back with the stern line in hand, while I guide the boat in and handle the midship and the bow lines.

 

My task is to bring the stern in close enough to the dock so Charlotte can attach our stern line to one of the dock’s cleats. Once the stern line is secure and with the help of the engine and bow thruster it is fairly straight forward to tie up the boat.

 

Maine’s lobster boat fleet set the standard for boat handling, especially docking. Granted they only dock on the starboard side, have a low freeboard that facilitate simply leaning over to attach the mid ship line to the dock cleat, have right turning propellors that swing the stern starboard when put in reverse, and most importantly the confidence to power in and use the boats momentum to help accomplish the task. 

 

It is a thing of beauty to watch. Whether young or old, male or female the lobster boat captains seem to be born with this ability. In my years of watching these performances they have never missed.

 

Carrie Rose has many superlative characteristics. One of her short comings is that when put into reverse her beloved Cummins diesel has a tendency to stall. It does this inconsistently, so it is hard to rely on its stopping power. Because of this, I tend to hedge my bet, never a great idea on a boat. A turn of the ignition key and we are back in control, but who needs the drama. 

 

Now, I admit to obsessing about this. Afterall, I’ve got to obsess about something otherwise I wouldn’t be me. Lucky for us, Charlotte does not have these tendencies. She provides the stabilizing influence that keeps Carrie Rose on the move or at the dock.

7-25-2024

7-24-2024

 

Chicago was a great place to grow up. There were few cars on my neighborhood’s two-way streets. Only the oil and garbage trucks drove in the alleys. For us kids it was an open landscape. We took off in the morning, came home for lunch and dinner, and maybe to bandage a mishap. 

 

Until 4^th grade Aunt Sarah walked me and my cousin to school. The reassuring crossing guard on Lincoln Ave. between Bryn Mawr and California was a big red faced Chicago cop. There was bakery, a sweet shop and a drug store where I bought Hot Rod magazine. The local gang, The Corner, were more a nuisance then a danger.

 

By eleven years old I had a big boy’s single speed bike and used it to travel 3 miles east down side streets to Montrose Harbor. Once there I helped a friend’s father crew his 26’ sailboat named after a Vietnamese Sea goddess. By eight grade I had saved up enough cash cutting grass at Rosehill Cemetery to buy a 10 speed racing bike. It was a Peugeot PX-10 that weighs 21lbs. I still have it. 

 

It opened the world up to me. Depending on the wind direction I’d either ride downtown along the lake front or through the northern suburbs to Highland Park. It took me years to notice, that during my rides I had soaked in the natural beauty of Lake Michigan and the intellectual grammar of architecture.

 

High school, at least the 3^rd and 4^th years, were an academic bust. That said, they changed my world view and left me with a football injury that I am still nursing. College was another bust, but again it exposed my weaknesses and gave me a direction towards self-improvement that decades later bore fruit.

 

I apologize for subjecting you good people to a memoir. It was not my intent. While tied to a float in Belfast I became reminiscent as I looked out of Carrie Rose’s pilothouse windows southeast on to West Penobscot Bay. I thought how did I find myself here. Suddenly it seemed important to recognize the process. Afterall, it is the details that make up a life. 

 

Belfast is a quaint village at the northern end of West Penobscot Bay. We arrived the day before The Belfast Celtic Festival began. The festival is free (donations appreciated), and mainly outdoors. There is one indoor location where workshops are held. This year I attended the fiddle and accordion workshops. 

 

The town appears to be populated by folk musicians and they fully embrace the festival. Their positive energy is palpable. Though my fiddle expertise comprises of a stirring rendition of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, I found the fiddle workshop’s quirky teacher’s discussion of bowing enlightening. The local “beginners” group managed to learn two songs in the space of an hour. I was humbled.

 

On the second day of the festival, The Atlantic Challenge began. It is made up of long narrow wooden gigs that recreate the 18^th and 19^th century boats that were used to transport naval officers around the fleets they commanded. The boats are rowed and sailed by spirited young adults representing 6 countries. From Carrie Rose we could watch the crews compete in sprints, accurate rowing and docking.

 

For most of the above activities the weather held but now we have entered a Maine Rain cycle. The rain begins aggressively with wind and waves and fog. Then it settles in for several days or like last year, a month. We know it is raining but it is hard to see. It is visceral rather than palpable. I imagine this is the world that far ranging pelagic birds live in. 

 

One of the things that makes Carrie Rose such a forgiving vehicle is her Newport by Dickinson propane cabin heater. In a couple of minutes, a cold wet cabin becomes warm and cozy, enabling us to hide out, read, cook, complete projects, and of course, write this blog post.

 

6-28-2024

 

6-28-2024

 

If you would have asked me a month ago if we were going to Maine, I’d have told you we would never get there this year. I was wrong. Somehow we drove the 1400 miles to Atlantic Boat Company where Carrie Rose (CR) spends the winter and at 5:10 PM on Friday tied up to floating pier 303 in Northeast Harbor across from Sir Tugely Blue.

 

It was a miserable winter with left leg and toe pain and to top it off a right ear sewed to the side of my head after a chunk of cancer was removed. Between Charlotte and I we racked up multiple doctor visits, imaging studies and procedures I’d rather not relive. But that said, I/we find ourselves sitting in CR’s pilothouse looking out on Mt. Dessert Island’s iconic Northeast Harbor.

 

It was a perfect day to travel the 15NM from Herrick Bay (where we keep CR) to Mount Dessert Island. The wind blew but the seas were calm. There was hardly a boat to contend with and there were minimal lobster trap buoys to avoid. That was good because we gifted CR with a new chart plotter/radar/sonar system and it took some getting use to. 

 

Not to let the new bells and whistles distract me, I mainly used our intact chart plotter to navigate. The new chart plotter is the equivalent of a large LED TV. It is big, colorful and efficient, and almost intuitive. Note I said almost as we needed searched its paperless manual (downloaded to my iMac) to find basic functions like how to turn the brightness of the screen up. Still, I think the transition should be fun.

 

We were lucky to get here this year, so instead of exploring the many nooks and crannies Maine has to offer, we’ll, for the moment, stay tied to the northside of floating dock 303 and chill.

 

Buck’s Harbor, Maine

7/12/2024

 

Weather apps’ small icons do not do justice to Maine’s off shore weather. They are too cute. After days of fog, rain and wind in NE Harbor, Carrie Rose woke to a crystal clear blue sky. It was nippy and there was wind in the tops of the trees; it was an image of benign weather. This was echoed in the various weather apps consulted. 

 

While Charlotte performed her morning ablutions, I turned the VHF radio to channel two, NOAA’s weather broadcast: greater than 5 foot NE swell with a period of six seconds with 4 to 5 foot SE wind driven waves. As an addendum, “patchy” fog was mentioned. 

 

The night before we decided to head 28NM west and south to Buck’s Harbor. At Buck’s we can tie to a mooring (no anchoring) and walk up a steep hill to a tiny store with Maine’s usual mix of high and lowbrow food and liquor complete with the NYT, Washington Post, Boston Globe, WSJ, etc.

 

The gist of the story takes place a mile or so East of NE Harbor where the coastal waters of the Western Way abruptly meet the Atlantic Ocean. The first indication is that the inland water’s lively blue green changes to a leaden blue gray. It is obvious that Carrie Rose is entering a solemn place. 

 

Carrie Rose makes a slight galumph as I look up to the top of a swell. I say up because from my pilothouse’s 8 foot perch I can no longer see the horizon. Now the world is a sleighride: up the front of the swell and down the back. On a calm day it is a fun ride and if we travel with another boat it is intriguing to watch them disappear and reappear below and atop each swell.

 

On windy days, the gaps between the swell’s hillocks fill with a churned up mix of wind driven waves. These are similar to the Great Lake’s waves: steep and close together. Ask any Great Laker how comfortable cruising on Superior, Michigan, Huron, Erie and Ontario is and get ready for a mouthful. 

 

As abrupt as the water’s hue changes, so does the temperature. We close the pilothouse’s doors in response and then are enveloped in fog. Intermixed within the fog, swell, waves and wind are NE Harbor’s fleet of handsome lobster boats. They appear in and out of the mist, rising and falling with the swell sometimes with only their antennas visible. 

 

It is chaotic because it is difficult to discern which way they are streaming. They can be circling a trap and then, once through, it is anyone’s guess which direction they will take to pick up the next trap. Lobster boats tend to two dispositions: full speed or stopped. In a flat sea with good visibility there is time to ferret out their next destination and take an opposing path. In anything less, we make an educated guess. Sometimes we are correct and other times we get the evil eye and a few choice phases.

 

The before mentioned maelstrom is short lived if heading west back to civilization. It is about 3NM to reach Bass Harbor Head, the southernmost point of Mt. Dessert Island (MDI) and the Bass Harbor Bar that separates MDI from Great Gott Island. Once over the bar the sea state and the weather change. Not always for the better but certainly better in today’s conditions. 

 

Carrie Rose is a superb sea boat. With her powerful Cummins diesel and large four bladed propeller she moves deliberately forward. This is despite what is happening within her confines. I adjust the throttle, for a little more or less makes a difference in her ride and thus, our comfort. 

 

Experience counts for a lot. Without it I might have considered turning back to the comforts of the harbor. Once over the Bass Harbor Bar the fog dissolved as does the wind and the swell. With the sea’s calm and the sun shining, I accelerated to cruising speed. Five hours later we are filling Carrie Rose’s fresh water tanks at Buck’s Harbor Marina’s dock . . . All in a day’s work. 

Buck's Habor, Maine