July 24, 2025

These last few days it is becoming progressively windier. The forecast called for even stronger S-SW winds today and into the night. The last several days we have been at one of our favorite spots: Warren Island State Park. It is part of a group of islands, the biggest of which is Islesboro, that separates East and West Penobscot Bay. Cruising between the bays I can almost see the glacier that ground its way SW and carved a 180 foot trough on each side of these islands.

 

The state park has been unmolested (except by summer campers) for a hundred years. It is groomed but in a hand’s off way. The islands best amenity, for me at least, is an approximately two mile hike arounds its perimeter. An easy walk, except for the black flies and mosquitoes. It winds through a pine and birch forest with an under belly of vibrant green ferns. Along the edges are scenes we have come to expect in Maine. 

 

There is the interaction between the forest and the sea, and the tides and currents. There is an unobtrusive mussel/oyster farm in a skinny channel between Warren and 700 Acre Islands; there are a multitude of colored lobster buoys along the island’s edges fished by few classic lobster boats; there is the large brightly lit ferry that crosses from Lincolnville to Islesboro; and there are visiting yachts of all makes and sizes, and if lucky, a large schooner will drop its anchor right outside the park’s mooring field.

 

A few years back we neglected to monitor the weather and were trapped by a NE storm that came charging down the bay and directly into our unprotected anchorage. That night of howling wind was added to the list of the sleepless nights that are unescapable if one cruises long enough. With this in mind, we decided to leave early and head 20 miles to a protected cove in Vinalhaven Island called Perry’s Cove. 

 

Perry’s Cove is a unique destination in an area of unique destinations. It is the domain of John, The Mayor, a gregarious gentleman that controls several free moorings while living on his 34 foot America Tug. All he asks for is a donation to help with the upkeep and conservation of the island. This being a perfect spot, it is often crowded with cruising boats. 

 

The cove is peppered with many mooring balls besides his. Most of these balls are uninhabited by the owner’s boats, so boats come in and take them for the night hoping their owners will not disturb them and mostly this is what happens. To top it off there is a resident eagle that swoops down the channel and over the trees in feats of acrobatics worthy of the Blue Angels.

 

Carrie Rose’s diesel while running, through a connection of hoses (that I try not to fret about), heats the water in the water heater. It can also provide heat through another series of hoses connected to a radiator with fans that blows hot air into the cabin. Nonetheless, it was the hot water we were concerned about because we had not had a shower in the three days since we left Belfast. This was remedied soon after the engine was shut down.

 

When I began to write I was going to describe the bumpy ride we had head on into 4 foot seas and 20 knot winds. I was going to mention that just to add to the stress we came here by an unfamiliar route. And that we were not sure there would be a mooring available, but that is all in a day’s work out on the water and the retelling can get pedantic, so I won’t . . .     

 

 Perry’s Cove, Vinalhaven, ME                

July 15, 2025

We, meaning all the boats in Maine, patiently wait for the fog to lift. It’s been a long wait this spring and summer. There have been longer intervals. Two years ago, the fog never lifted and we went home early. Nonetheless, dedicated cruisers such as ourselves deserve better. Weather forecasting is accurate to a fault. If it says fog then there will be fog. It deflates your bubble when the 7 day outlook is 7 days of fog.

Today I count as this year’s first day of summer. Of course, we woke to fog at Buck’s Harbor, but it was demonstrably warmer. Though our surroundings were obscured, the sky was bright. At 9 AM it became obvious that the sun would win out. Sea level clouds rolled in off the Reach and then dissipated as they climbed into the surrounding hills. 

 

Boats began to stir. We dinghied to the marina to take our last showers for the next couple of days. New found friends were engaged for the final time this season and maybe forever. Boat dogs got their final walks before heading out. 

 

Back on Carrie Rose, our silent departure ritual began. The dinghy is secured on the stern. I take a good look around the engine room. Fuel filters are checked for water and water filters are checked for debris. The engine’s fluids are checked as are electrical connections, batteries, switches, belts and cables. I make sure there is no oil or water in the bilge. Only then are the various electronic devices turned on and the route is reviewed. 

 

Meanwhile, Charlotte puts everything in its proper place and I do mean everything. Experience has taught us, no matter how calm it may be, whatever is laying around will get flung across the cabin enroute. I will not bore you with the multitude of reasons for this, but it is inevitable. Finally, the engine is started. 

 

Now 10 miles further northwest attached to a mooring in Tom Cod Cove, a blustery south wind pushes Carrie Rose’s bow from side to side. As the boat swings the wind intermittently blows into the port and starboard pilothouse doors. Despite the wind’s vigor, it is a cooling summer breeze. A breeze we deserve because why not have at least one first day of summer . . .

 

Belfast, ME              

July 13, 2025

 

Carrie Rose is on mooring #5 in Buck’s Harbor at the north end of Eggemoggin Reach. The harbor’s U-shape is created by the appropriately named Harbor Island that separates it from the Reach. The harbor is known for four things: a quaint marina, it’s outdoor shower tucked next to the fuel tanks, an upscale restaurant up the road and the barely submerged Harbor Ledge in the middle of the harbor. 

As the ledge has been a rude awakening for many a boater it now has a large white buoy with a flashing white light attached to the top. Still, located mid harbor and surrounded by many boats and moorings, the buoy is easy to overlook. 

 

There are many hazards to navigation in Maine. The charts are full of them. Even on familiar routes I make a point to inspect the chart each time we venture out. In fact, familiar routes can be the most dangerous. There is no room for complacency; think of the Costa Concordia disaster.

 

We left Northeast Harbor for Buck’s Harbor on a sunny day. There was no fog and the seas were calm. Though we are capable of cruising in zero visibility I haven’t felt up to the challenge this year. I know it is inevitable, so I keep up my radar and navigation skills. But we have come to a consensus that if staying in the harbor an extra day or two will find us a sunny day to travel, we will stay put.

 

Today a group of Friendship Sloops came into the harbor. There was a strong S-SE wind, so they must have had a raucous downwind sail up the Reach. One after another came in, grabbed a mooring with varying degrees of difficulty and looked relieved to be safe in a protected harbor. The looks on their faces reminded me of many a boisterous sail on Lake Michigan.

 

Tomorrow was to be our last day here. The multiple weather apps convinced us to take our own advice and we signed up for another day. That means I can take one more outdoor shower all the while looking out the hole in the wall straight at Carrie Rose swinging on her mooring . . . priceless!

Buck's Harbor, Maine

July 7, 2025

It’s walkies time. Got to catch the 8:50 bus to Eagle Lake Trail. The first thing I do when I wake up is lean over and look at the pilothouse clock. This is to confirm if I need to roll over and sleep for another hour or get up and face the day. 

The night before a scheduled bus trip Charlotte begins to exhibit bus-missing anxiety. So, I am primed to make sure we get up in time to wash, dress, eat and put the engine on the dinghy, and of course, for Charlotte to do Wordle.

 

This morning I leaned over and pronounced it was 7:50 and this meant in our present long retired state, we could never be ready in time. But in a futile attempt, I made coffee as Charlotte rushed to ready herself until she discovered it was 7:00 not 8:00. So, let’s go hiking!

 

We have been driving pass Eagle Lake while on the way to Bar Harbor for a decade. Each time we say to each other that it looks like a flat trail around a beautiful lake. This year Charlotte took it on as a project. I am assured that other than a slight elevation change (a couple of hundred feet) it will be an easy slog on a well maintained carriage road. 

 

The last time we walked six miles was probably six years ago, but I kept my consul. Between us we have at least four suspect joints. You know, the ones that need to be lubricated each morning with gentle stretching and multiple refrains of, “It sucks getting old.”

 

The first half of the hike was on a Carriage Road. I should explain what one is for those unfamiliar with Mount Dessert Island and Acadia National Park. John D. Rockefeller Jr., the prototype for a despotic billionaire, built forty five miles of fine gravel roads between 1913 and 1940 to ride his horse on. Despotic or not, the roads, gates, bridges and buildings are beautifully crafted from local granite. They were designed not to interfere with the landscape and I admit they succeeded.

 

The one concern as we started our walk, a bit beyond halfway there is a steeper section that leads to Connors Nubble which is close to 600ft. This was to be avoided, so the plan was to take the Eagle Lake Trail the last 3 miles. Now this is a trail and in Maine terms it is rated at mild. For flatlanders like ourselves “mild” in Maine is a euphonism for be beware. This trail follows the west rim of the lake, which turned out to be a mile and a half of large (and small) granite rubble collapsed from the cliffs above.

 

The trail began root bound and lead into a boardwalk made of half sawn trees balanced on other rickety half sawn logs. I began to ask if we should backtrack and take the boring but easy way to the bus stop. Charlotte carried on and lucky for us we remembered to bring both tungsten tipped carbon fiber walking sticks. As the trail approached the lake shore it devolved into a 1.2 mile boulder field that challenged our suspect joints and balance.

 

Of course, we met young strapping males and younger families with newborns lofted high on their father’s backs in Formula One type seats. They were without concern as they skipped across the trail while we groveled amongst the stones. Charlotte deserves credit. She barely uttered a foul word except to tell passersby to get off the trail.

 

Eventually, as the trail peeled off from the shoreline, it flattened out and became cushioned by a carpet of lovely amber pine needles. Once back on the carriage road, we had another two miles of a gently rising trail which finally descended into the parking lot and bus stop.

 

A look at the bus schedule meant another hour to wait for the return bus, so we hitched a ride to Bar Harbor (the opposite direction) in search of ice cream. As we walked into town I saw the distinctive vehicle of a friend from the harbor and flagged it down. We had a fun trip back to the boat, all the while lamenting our sore muscles and reveling at the fact that we had hiked six miles!

 

We were back on Carrie Rose by 2:30, just in time for a pre shower espresso. By four we were back on board sitting in our favorite places. An ice pack sat comfortably on my left knee as I contemplated dinner. Again, Charlotte stepped up and declared dinner would be the never before attempted zucchini fritters. 

 

It was the end to a successful day: 3:45 minute six mile walk without a crisis, hot showers and fritters without a mess. Now that’s the way to spend a day . . .

Northeast Harbor, ME

July 3, 2025

It is a unique moment when we are the only boat left in an anchorage. When the last boat raises its anchor and motors out it gets unusually quiet or at least it feels that way. Depending on the circumstances we feel blessed or wonder why we have not left. Let’s say the weather is deteriorating, should we also be moving to a safer location. This concern is not unprecedented as we have errored in the past. 

To sit through a storm at anchor is sobering. The decision to stay, especially at night, is hard not to second guess. Carrie Rose’s AIS (Automatic Identification System) has a feature called Anchor Watch. It shows where we are in reference to the anchor. It knows this because once the anchor is dropped, a button that marks its location is pushed. That is if in the commotion that is anchoring, we remember to push it. 

 

A circular boundary surrounding the anchor is set and if the boat extends beyond it, an alarm will sound. So, let’s say 70 feet of chain is lowered then the boundary is set at 100 feet. If the wind increases the chain will pull tight and extend, thus the extra length of the perimeter. A dragging anchor is not a thing we want to deal with especially in the dark, so we are careful in how we set the anchor.

 

I am not sure how I got on this tangent. I was writing about a quiet anchorage all to ourselves and suddenly I’m in a storm with the anchor dragging.

 

Another thing we notice, except in the most remote anchorages, is that lawns are always being mowed. Here in Somes Harbor no one (as of yet) is mowing their lawn but that has been replaced by major bridge reconstruction to the north and to the west, a large home’s sea wall is being built. The latter entails placing large granite boulders delicately (not quietly) in place and the former, pounding metal post into the mud. 

 

That said, the nights here have been quiet, dark and cool; perfect sleeping weather. 

 

Most mornings and afternoons I can see osprey and hear eagles. These two avian do not get along. Of the two, the osprey is more aggressive. An eagle will pretty much sit on its perch and get dive bombed repeatedly by the osprey. The eagles seem annoyed but not enough to fly away. In my experience, ospreys are tireless, whereas eagles are chill. 

 

One of the benefits of Somes Harbor is the complimentary bus service that L.L. Bean provides for Mount Dessert Island. The bus stops at the Somes Public Library. It is a fifteen minute walk once we dinghy to the dock. Today Bar Harbor’s hardware and grocery stores are on the agenda. The bus arrives at 10:18, so I need to stop chilling and get my act together . . .

Somes Harbor, ME