Our last night on Carrie Rose was spent tied to Atlantic Boat Company’s (ABC) mooring #5 in Herrick Bay. The mooring ball proclaims that the chain/line is attached to a 7500 pound block of granite. For a small motorboat like ours this is a reassuring amount of heft.
After leaving ABC in June our first stop was Northeast Harbor on Mt. Desert Island. We returned there in August to spend the last couple of weeks in this picturesque village before our season ended. We had decided not to anchor this summer due to my gammy low back over the winter. Thus, we spent the summer on moorings or floating piers at various harbors.
Northeast Harbor is unique in that they do not take reservations. The harbormaster’s office only responds to mooring requests once a boat is in the harbor. So, when entering, I announce myself on channel 68 (the monitored VHF radio channel) saying that Carrie Rose is a 32’ motorboat a beam of Clifton Dock, a service establishment on the westside of the harbor’s entrance. This prevents the respondent from asking if I am in the harbor. And I often suggest a mooring I wish to be placed on. The office reacts positively to this form of direct communication.
At the end of the season on the way to Herrick Bay from Northeast Harbor we stopped at above mentioned Clifton Dock. Here we fill the fuel tank and empty the holding tank in preparation to the boat being pulled. Its convenience overrides the fact that it does not have the cheapest fuel prices. The same family has operated it for over a century. It is a classic establishment in both function and appearance
In the few days before departing Northeast Harbor we pay particular attention to the weather. On the way out, once passed the protection of the islands east of Northeast Harbor, the sea can get quite snotty. In an instant the Atlantic Ocean’s formidable NE swell is added to the local conditions. With years of experience, we have learned that cruising is a series of compromises. This day promised dense fog and rain, but light wind and calm seas in compensation.
We woke to dense fog that slowly cleared only to ghost back in as we left the pier. The fog remained dense for 12 of the 16 miles to Herrick Bay. The new Garmin chart plotter and radar, with a little practice, proved excellent at identifying unseen vessels and other sources of potential collisions. The waters around Northeast Harbor are particularly busy with recreational craft, multiple ferries, lobster and work boats of all types and sizes. To add to the complexity there are choke points where it is usual for all the above to converge.
Many of the boats that day were returning to the various harbors on Mt. Desert Island. Since they were favoring the inside track, I kept them on our starboard side. This meant they had the right of way. We could barely see Carrie Rose’s bow let alone any of the other craft. To avoid the splotches that represent boats on the radar screen I drove in various directions, sometimes opposite from the planned course. It was stressful.
Three miles from our destination the fog dissipated. I took the opportunity to run Carrie Rose’s 220hp turbo Cummins diesel near full speed for the last few miles. Various boating cognoscenti recommend doing this to “blow out” the evil substances that lurk in the engine after three months of unhurried cruising through Maine’s bucolic waterways. With the additional horsepower Carrie Rose’s bow rose, steadied and her big diesel purred.
The entrance to Herrick Bay is wide and marked on its eastern extremity by the tiny Blue Hill Bay Light. The shores of the bay are populated by a few homes, mainly of the “away people” variety. It is dark, quiet, and prone to odd weather phenomena. Open to the southeast, I can attest that it gets rowdy when the wind blows from that direction.
Herrick Bay’s dark quietude is in stark contrast to Northeast Harbor’s frenetic activity. The bay is for the most part unmolested by lobster boats, ferries, superyachts, and every other imaginably small craft. It is a good place to wind down and collect one’s thoughts before packing up to leave for home. And, unlike Northeast Harbor, the bay has the most spectacular sunsets . . . and did I mention, it is quiet.
