| T.R | Title | User | Personal
Name | Date | Lines |
|---|
| 2246.1 | A Day of Preparations | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Tue Oct 31 1995 12:56 | 49 |
| 2 September 95. Great Island Boat Yard. Brunswick Maine.
PROVISIONING
After breakfast with my spouse (Shuneet) who is not taking part
in this activity. (She wisely took a vacation in a warm and
sunny place instead.) I set off for Brunswick buying many last
minute necessities and a few luxuries on the way.
I purchased ice, wine, beer and food. During the whole two weeks
trip, a total of five blocks of ice were purchased with much
remaining at the end. After the initial purchase, I went ashore
twice more to get fresh (unfrozen) fish and meat, and also bread
and salads.
When the boat was loaded, very little bottom paint could be seen
above the water line and the stern seemed especially low!
According to Shuneet's wishes, I bought a radio/cassette player
intended to hold at bay the insanity inevitable from two weeks
sailing alone.
IMPROVEMENTS
Making a 'window' for the companionway. I cut from 1/16th inch
sheet of acrylic, a single piece with the shape of the two
washboards. When at anchor or moored, this sheet was inserted
into the companionway to keep out cold air and provide light
during the day and a pleasant view of the the stars at night. As
the sheet is so light, it is easy to handle. Although always
stowed flat, the sheet is sufficiently flexible to make it
easier to manouvre into the place I want to stow it. This proved
a *wonderful* improvement as it was cool Down East.
On a previous recent visit, I had repainted the non-skid surfaces with
Interlux Brightside Polyurethane (one part enamel)
Interlux Non Skid Additive (2398)
I used a 4-inch paint roller and green 'plastic' masking tape.
During my trip, the days were breezy, the deck often wet and
the firm footing gave confidence. It is also enjoyable to look at
with a 'lustrous' kind of surface which looks so much better than
sand or grit.
Purchased a spotlight. This is a Nightblaster Searchlight with
400,000 candle power. Installed a 'cigarette lighter' outlet by
the companionway. This got used during the trip, particularly on
the ocassion when I had to enter a strange harbour after dark.
No special attention was given to the outboard engine before this trip.
A bad mistake. :-(
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|
| 2246.2 | First Day | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Fri Nov 03 1995 14:13 | 132 |
| 3-Sept-1995 Quahog Bay, Brunswick to Burnt Island, Muscungus Bay
BBA Chart 60
Get up before dawn and find the perfect day.
In Great Island Boat Yard where I keep "Grace", every slip and every
mooring is occupied but there is no sign of life. I start the
engine and drop the pennant. This is great! The start of two
weeks cruising. I open the throttle and set off at last. I man
appears at a neighboring motor yacht and I wave to him joyfully
but he does not return my enthusiasm and shakes his head. Ups!
Maybe full throttle at 6am is not the way to treat my neighbors.
I motor down through Quahog Bay reflecting that this place, only
half a mile from my mooring, is as beautiful as anything I'm
likely to see on my two weeks of cruising. However a good deal of
the pleasure is independent of the nature of the destination,
and just the process of finding and entering new places is
enough.
For the first hour I motor to charge the batteries. This brings
me out into East Casco Bay and in the distance I can see Cape
Small. I have rounded this cape many times and often in the face
of the wind. But today a north wind takes me around Cape Small
without even having to tack.
[Note: I sailed across East Casco Bay from RN"6" near the Elm
Islands to R"2BH" BELL near Wood Island. Most visitors sail
around the longer way. If you sail in this area, capture Loran
way points for these two buoys. Pay attention to the offset as
you cross this wide expanse of water. At high water on a calm
day, the reefs to either side of the course can not be seen and
it may be wise to go another way.]
THE HABITS OF THE SEA BREEZE BBA Chart 61
An ideal day of sailing in Maine is to go out to sea
with a northerly wind and later in the day to be returned
to some harbor with a southerly. In the middle of the day,
preferably at lunch time the wind drops for a
short time and the water becomes glassy. I await the switch from
northerly to southerly. I often find that this occurs earlier in
the day when the northerly winds are weaker.
I am hove-to near Seguin Island for a lunch consisting of clam
chowder. I enjoy the view of the island and the entrance to the
Kennebec River while waiting for the sea breeze to begin. The sea
breeze usually begins in this area between 1100 and 1300. The
glassy sea is suddenly covered in small ripples, then the
clashing mainsail slides becomes silent and finally the boat
registers the new wind with a slight heel. A moment of
excitement but I don't take it too seriously for the wind is
fickle. I try not to kid myself that the sea breeze has REALLY
begun.
THE METHOD OF THE BANANA
Numerous other cruisers are passing me.
"Qt <pi> II" with its tall rig has just sailed by. An ancient
wooden cutter with numerous sails is passing me. There's not much
wind for my stubby mast. Should I start the engine. If I'm going
two knots or less, maybe I should. Also I suspect some of the
passers-by have already done so.
I need to estimate my boat speed. As I'm eating a banana, I will
estimate boat speed with The Method of The Banana. The
banana skin is flung forward and hits the genoa near the bow,
then falls down through the pulpit. I count "Banana one", "Banana
two"... and reach "Banana seven" as the skin emerges at the
transom. The boat speed is announced immediately to be "Two
knots". The decision is made to use a gasoline assist.
Note that for my boat, the time taken to travel one boat length
is: Seconds Knots 15 1 6 2
1/2 5 3 4 3 1/2 3 5 2
Wow!
The 15 seconds in the table above also has its place in seafaring
tradition. Drop a 'chip log' overboard and pay out its line for
15 seconds. The line is tied with a knot every 25.3 feet.
Counting the number of knots paid out gives the boat speed. I've
never done this. Maybe next year...
On this trip I have a long way to go and will put on the motor if
speed is less than some acceptable value which for my
temperament is about 2 knots. By about 1330, I no longer need
this motorized assist. On this first day, I made 36 nautical
miles which is about as much as I can expect in "Grace".
BBA Chart 62 and 63
Cape Small was already low behind me as I
passed Seguin Island and now Cape Newagen can be seen ahead. Then
after some sailing, Seguin is growing low on the horizon behind
me and the low Damariscove Islands are appearing ahead. I pass
between Damariscove and Fisherman Island avoiding the busy
Fisherman Passage. Now I enter Muscungous Bay and ahead in the
distance are Allen and Burnt I. The horizon presides over these
slowly appearing and fading sights and does it so slowly that one
does not see anything happening, but turn around and look back
and be amazed at how far you have come!
BBA Chart 64
I am approaching Allan Island and Burnt Island with
the sun getting low behind me. There is a reasonably protected
anchorage behind Burnt Island. On rounding the Little Burnt
Island, I see there are five boats already there and for some
reason they are mostly traditional with wooden spars and classic
lines. At the entrance to the harbor, I start the outboard,
leaving it to warm up in neutral, take down the sails and began
to flake the anchor rode on the deck. As I do this, I hear the
dreaded sound of the engine idle growing weaker, but by the time
I get to the stern, it has stopped. My annoyance is out of
proportion to the situation, after all, I'm in no danger. I pull
the starter cord fiercely. Pull after pull, fails to restart it.
So, again the sails are hoisted. I will have to anchor while
under sail. I tack into the harbor against the wind. The boats in
the harbor have become less interesting as they are now merely
in my way. I weave past these expensive looking obstacles. On my
second tack I see that across the harbor, there is a ketch
motoring in. It is made entirely of wood with a gleaming
varnished hull. Of the two people on board, the woman at the bow
appears to have noticed me. She is aware that we are on a
collision course. The man at the helm however gives no indication
of my existence. At fifty feet, he is still ignoring me. (How
about a smile or a wave?) Maybe he concerned I want to take his
favorite anchoring spot. Maybe he doesn't speak to Cape Dories. A
few more feet and I can see my reflection in his hull but he
still is looking straight ahead. I tack and go over to the other
side of the harbor. I turn downwind with the main sheeted in
tight, the boat going quite slowly, then I drop the anchor off
the stern and dig it in on fifty feet of rode.
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|
| 2246.3 | On to Isle au Haut. | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Tue Nov 07 1995 11:11 | 73 |
| Monday 4-SEP-1995 Burnt Island (Muscungus Bay) to Point Lookout (Isle au Haut)
The night at Burnt Island has been uncomfortable. A huge swell coming from
the south east is breaking on the rocks at the corner of the harbor.
Small waves radiating from that point are reaching Grace on the beam.
At daybreak, with excellent visibility, I can see the swell over Old
Cutty Ledge to the north. Although far away, the swell is clearly seen
to rise into tall waves perched on the horizon. I watch with amazement
as a lobster boat passes in front of them providing a measure of their
height.
BBA Chart 64
My outboard starts immediately on the second pull despite the trouble
I had with it yesterday. I motor north east entertained by the
breakers. The whole area south of Port Clyde seems to be shoal and
full of reefs but there are many lobster boats out there. It's scary
to see how close these boats go to the reefs. Although the swells are
large, they are hardly felt as they pass under Grace, and although
very gentle, they are moving quite fast.They seem to have a wave
length of over 50 yards with a swell passing about every 8 seconds.
Over the reefs, they heap up, bright green before turning white and
throwing spray in the air.
I reach RG "TB" BELL at the edge of the Muscle Ridge Islands. Last
year and the year before, I kept my boat at Spruce Head so I know the
area. I'm pleased to see familiar sights but am surprised that Vinal
Haven is still too far away to be seen well and Isle Au Haut can't be
seen at all. I had hoped to get passed Isle au Haut today but that
now seems unlikely.
Time for lunch. I experiment with a form of hove-to which allows for
some forward motion. Normally the mainsail drives the backed-jib up
into the wind thereby stopping the boat. Now I ease out both the
mainsail and the tiller so the boat is not stopped but proceeds
slowly. This arrangement is very stable for Grace and she progresses
eastwards (which is where I'm going) without any attentions from me
while I prepare and enjoy a tin of clam chowder.
BBA Chart 68
The SW wind has now improved and I'm sailing south of Vinal Haven near
Brimstone Island. I'm encountering dense flotillas of eider ducks.
maybe one hundred ducks almost shoulder to shoulder are paddling
furiously away from me. There are several such flotillas but the one
dead ahead is interesting. The boat is going at about two knots and
(with a glint in my eye) I have changed course slightly to keep
following the eiders. They are quite reluctant to fly, maybe fifty
yards ahead and the water is churned by their furious paddling. They
also use their wings to flap along the surface. Eventually they head
off to one side and so escape me. However I look back from time to
time and see they remain bunched together and paddling furiously even
after I have gone by.
BBA Chart 69
After crossing East Penobscot Bay, I clear the Isle au Haut Thorofare.
It is my first time through, its pretty and such a contrast from the
bay. I clear the Thorofare and go to Point Lookout, dropping the
anchor just to the northwest of a fleet of moored sailing dingies. It
is beginning to get dark and Camden Hills behind Vinal Haven stood
out against the red sky. Even though this anchorage nestles behind
Isle au Haut, the strong wind has changed direction and seems to be
blowing directly from the Camden Hills. I prepare the evening meal
while the boat pitches over the small wind driven chop. After the
meal, I look out and see that the anchor has dragged about one hundred
yards. I increase the scope and take anchor bearings. An uneasy night
followed, waking often. I check the anchor bearings several times but
no more dragging is detected.
When I get up in the morning, I look out and see to my surprise that
I'm just to the northwest of the fleet of moored sailing dingies and
appeared not to have dragged at all. Indeed I'm exactly where I had
originally anchored! Evidently at night, small objects such as sailing
dingies appear further away than they really are - which gave me the
impression that I had dragged.
|
| 2246.4 | A Battle with a Pennant | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Mon Nov 20 1995 09:11 | 140 |
| Tuesday 5-SEP-1995 Isle au Haut to Mount Desert Island.
BBA Chart 69
A morning with a clear sky and little wind yet. I'm anchored in
the pleasant bay at Point Lookout at the north end of Isle au
Haut. To the west, I can see North Haven and the Camden Hills. To
the north are the islands of Merchants Channel. There is only one
other cruiser in this anchorage and they have just taken their
dog to visit the shore. I can hear lots of lobster boats to the
north roaring in and out of Stonington.
At breakfast, I make 'old fashioned' oatmeal cooked with salt and
not too much water and served with cold milk and honey. Great on
a cool morning. To add to these pleasures I have espresso coffee.
it smells good, even if it is made in old aluminum machine that
is horribly corroded. My wife bought at a garage sale for two
dollars and then it was nice and shiny but it has difficulty
over being washed in salt water. Still, it makes an excellent cup
of espresso contributing much to the quality of life on board.
After clearing away the breakfast things, I wash them and last
nights dishes. An advantage of a low freeboard is that I lean
over the side and wash the dishes in the sea. After they have
drained somewhat, I rinse in fresh water. I recall the discussion
in rec.sailing.cruising, some months earlier, on how to wash
dishes using a single cup of fresh water. I'm not quite so
ambitious and use a small bowl of fresh water which I ladle over
each item with a cup.
Next, to raise the anchor. This year I have purchased a bag for
the anchor rode. It amazes me how beneficial such a simple
purchase has been (and a pity I didn't buy one years ago). I pull
in most of the anchor rode coiling it directly into its bag which
sits just inside the shrouds. I break out the anchor and sail
with it into deeper water when I hove-to to get it on board.
Sailing a little with the anchor gets the mud off it. Ah! It's
wonderful not to use the engine in the morning. Feeling pleased
with myself over this, I leave the harbor heading east.
I head towards the gap between Pell Island and Wheat Island with
the intention of entering Jericho Bay. These and other smaller
islands are made of a clean smooth and light colored granite
which contrasts wonderfully with their dark trees. I readied my
camera. Not having a zoom lens, I have to get quite close to have
the photo look interesting. I take a couple of photos then see
something interesting off the port bow. It appears fish are
jumping over a considerable area. Probably a dense school of
small fish breaking through the surface as they are threatened
by larger fish. I get the binoculars and look. It looks odd. Not
right. Then I recognize small wavelets breaking on a large
granite surface just underwater. An immediate change of course is
followed by a tingling hot sensation all over my skin. I observe
that I'm not in mid channel. True I was in mid channel, a minute
ago but the channel has widened on the southern side once I
passed Mouse Island. Even though I had not been on a course for
that rock, I *could* have been. It took me quite a while to get
used to the idea of what might have happened... (and have
happened at high water).
Looking at the chart to see how the rock came to be unexpected, I
don't see the usual "*" symbol, but rather a small underwater
extension of Pell island. On the chart, this extension differs
from the island itself only by being a greenish color rather than
a yellowish color. I had read the underwater extension as if it
was the island itself.
BBA Chart 70 & 74
When I reach the Casco Passage, the sea breeze had really cranked
up and I had a great ride from there all the way to North West
Harbor, arriving at 1405 hours. Alas, the gas dock had closed an
hour earlier although two motor boaters told me I could go across
the South East Harbor.
These people spoke of this as hardly an inconvenience at all, but
for me having been sailing since 6am, it seemed a major hassle.
However, I have never been to South East harbor - the home of
Hinkley - and soon the prospect appears more interesting. I
motor across to South East Harbor and arrive at Beal's Lobster
where rough lobster boats are roaring in and out. When a man on
the dock beckons me in I could feel Grace cringe. The slot
appeared a little less than the length of the boat with dock
pilings at one end and a heaving lobster boat at the other. On
the second approach and with great relief I get the delicate and
pretty Grace into this space and am able to take on water, ice,
gas and a freshly cooked lobster. The latter (1.8 lb hardshell)
is a reward to myself for making it to Mount Desert Island. Later
I enter in the ship's log: ATE ON BOARD LOBSTER WITH RICE,
SPINACH AND STERLING SAUVIGNON BLANC '93 (NAPA VALLEY). However
this reward was enjoyed only after the farce which I shall now
relate.
In South West Harbor, the northern side is all lobster boats
while the south side is the domain of Hinkley. Near the large
sheds where they are built, a dozen splendid Hinkleys ride at
their moorings. They have black hulls, a graceful sheer and
overhanging bow and transom. The cabin top is fairly low for a
cruising boat. Elegance!
Around this area, the town has put a lot of mooring marked
RENTAL. These appeared in size adequate for the Royal Yacht
Britannia. As a motored through the area I carefully avoided
collision with one of these and sought out a more modest mooring.
I was in no mood to pay anything having just paid a ludicrous
amount for gas and lobster. I turned Grace into the wind at a
relatively less large mooring buoy and go forward with a dock
line.
I don't like to bring a pennant on deck, when it's covered in
slim and seaweed so I ran a dock line though the pennant and
cleaned that off. The horrible slimy pennant was now safely about
a foot away from the bow. I then stood up and surveyed the
scene. The forward motion of Grace had caused here to swing
around and point in the opposite direction to all the other
boats. I expected her to soon straighten out. But she did not.
Looking down, I saw that the pennant lay tight down one side of
the bow with the boat attempting to turn in that direction. With
some effort, I pulled the pennant to the other side of the bow,
then waited... Nothing happened. I spent some time coiling lines
and putting the fenders away. Well, Grace was now ship shape even
if she was still pointed in the wrong direction. I looked around
for the mooring buoy and it could not be seen *anywhere*. Maybe
it was underwater? After some searching I found the buoy partly
under my transom. I opened the cover of the outboard well and
saw the pennant was hard against the outboard. Some prodding
with a boat hook followed, but no luck. Nothing for it but to
raise the outboard. Having the outboard in a well is a price to
be paid for aesthetics. The outboard is hidden inside a graceful
transom but to get it out is a struggle involving removing the
throttle handle and doing extraordinary contortions. After that,
I found that the pennant was jammed between the propeller and the
horizontal fin above it. Eventually I freed it, stood up and
watched as... nothing happened.
I little reflection on this stalemate revealed that I now had
one end of the pennant against the port bow and the other
against the starboard side of the stern. The pennant was about as
long as my boat! However, Grace has a full keel with a straight
horizontal foot and gradually the pennant slide along it. The
great mooring buoy now majestically edged away from my puny boat.
Eventually, Grace swung around and joined the other boats in
pointing south-west.
_____________________________________________________________________
|
| 2246.5 | Mistake at Mistake Island | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Mon Nov 27 1995 11:01 | 108 |
| Wednesday 6-SEP-1995 South West Harbour (Mount Desert Island) to
The Cow Yard (Head Harbour Island)
BBA Chart 74
This will be the day I really go down east. I had breakfast in
the dark and prepared a Thermos of hot soup. The sun is about to
rise, and there is only a very light wind. I raise the sails and
motor out of South West Harbour and along the southern edge of
Mount Desert Island. A large gray cloud stretches from the summit
of Mount Catlike down the hill and out to sea. As I near this
the wind picks up and I have the delight of shutting down the
engine. Indeed, soon I find myself putting in a reef.
Across the mouth of Frenchman Bay, I have a wild beam reach with a
chop from the north and a large swell from the south. The Nova
Scotia ferry calmly passes me unaffected by the tumult assailing
the little Cape Dory. For most of the twenty mile course to Petit
Manan, I enjoy my favorite sail-plan of genoa and single reefed
main. Grace has a narrow sharp bow and a slender beam and so
cuts nicely through a chop. Wonderful but tiring while producing
an average of over five knots.
I'm looking out for the buoys off the Schoodic peninsular. I look
through binoculars and see one buoy has a strong flash. After
initial amazement I realize that this is the the lighthouse of
Petit Manan. It is difficult to believe that this apparently
tiny object is in fact 127 feet high.
My speed began to drop as I pass Schoodic and I wonder about my
speed. The Method of the Banana would be appropriate to estimate
speed, but I'm not hungry, so I look for some object in the
water ahead that I could use instead. I would begin to count the
seconds as it passed under the bow. I soon see an object maybe
fifty yards ahead and steer so it will be close on the leeward
rail and therefore easier to see. The object looks very strange
so when I reached it I forget to start counting. As it reaches
the beam, I see its a juvenile harbor seal. As it reaches the
genoa track, it is looking up at me and at the boom and at the
mast and the sails directly over its head. As it reaches the main
sheet winch, its eyes are almost popping out of its head. It sees
a sailor who has not shaved for three days. It panics and with
wild flipping and splashing ducks under the surface. Oddly enough
it does not dive, but after another second, it recovers enough
composure to remember to do that.
I pass just south of Petit Manan, enjoying the sight of the great
lighthouse. The strange waves indicate a strong current. As is
typical is such situations, the wind just ceases and I have turn
to the engine. It a great relief to me that it does start.
BBA Chart 76
Sailing across the mouth of Western Bay to Great Wass Island is
new to me. It's very hard to identify the shoreline although I
feel I am already traveling along the coast of Great Wass
Island. A simple calculation shows that this is not possible. I
realize that if I was more tired and cold and lacking sleep, I
might have believed that what I see is Great Wass Island. Instead
I have to accept the disappointment that the furthest point I
could see ahead was likely to be Red Head. At this rate I will
never get to Roque Island before dark. I began to consult Taft
and Taft as to likely places to spend the night.
BBA Chart 77
I reach Red Head at 1450 hours and there is no doubt about its
identity - it's red! I can now see the Mistake Island light. In
the guide book, Mistake Island Harbour gets four stars. I'm leery
of Taft's rating system as he is one of those outward bound types
and likely to rate something highly if it is nearly impossible.
For instance the description of how to enter Mud Hole is hair
raising. I muse on how a *real* Maine gunk holer might approach
an anchorage:
'Approach slowly at low tide and get stuck on some rocks
and wait a bit... Someone at the bow should signal which
direction to proceed and the helmsperson should then motor
forward until stuck again. Repeat this taking great
care to remember your course. Continue until two hours
off high tide when if you are not already in the gunk-hole,
you had better go back buy the same course.'
On reaching, Mistake Island I cease these mad musings and return
to reality. My engine fails to start. I clean the spark plugs, I
make a nasty discovery. The electrical lead to the upper spark
plug had been loose and when I look into the head of the
connector I find some silver foil from a chocolate wrapper
inside the head. It had been presumably put there in the distant
past to prevent the connector from falling off! I added a bit
more foil from a KitKat to get a tighter fit...
After starting the engine and verifying that it would idle for a
while, I motor into Mistake Island Harbour in a highly nervous
mental state. Any fluctuation in the sound produced by the
engine pumped another blast of adrenalin into my bloodstream. On
entering the outer harbour I see it's empty. The harbour also
seems very exposed. I have a feeling I'm in a remote and maybe
dangerous place. The sun is getting low.
Now on the chart, one can see that to get into the inner harbour
it is necessary to pass between two little rocks, but the tide
was is and these two rocks appear huge. Indeed there is hardly
any water between them. Enough of this! I turn about and head
back out to sea and then on to Head Harbour and The Cows Yard.
On entering The Cows Yard I see there are two motor boats of the
'trawler' kind which had passed me near Mount Desert Island and
had presumably spent the day anchored here. I circle slowly
looking for a good place to anchor but suddenly the engine dies
so that's where I anchor.
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|
| 2246.6 | Head Harbour to Roque Island | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Tue Dec 12 1995 15:05 | 91 |
| 7-SEP-1995 Head Harbour to Roque Island.
BBA Chart 77
The morning is gray and windy with a small craft advisory. The
weather forecast indicates it will get worse so I am determined to
get out of here 'around the corner' to Roque Island as soon as
possible. I have a quick breakfast before dawn and make a Thermos of
hot soup. I'm worried, preoccupied with the state of my outboard.
It has given trouble every day. It's difficult to start and it dies
at critical times especially when running slowly or idling.
The previous evening, a large yacht had taken a mooring within my
swinging circle. When I hailed them about this, they suggested I move
to the mooring next to them as they knew the people who owned both
moorings. I agreed and attempted to start the engine but was unable to
do so. The newcomer suggested that he move me to the mooring by towing
me with my row boat. After some discussion of the pros and cons of
this, he managed this quite successfully.
So now I hardly dare to look at the outboard. A strong southwesterly
is blowing straight into the harbour and it is only two hours before
high tide. The inner and outer harbour appear to have grown in size
with the high tide but this new expanse of water must be avoided.
Again I read the instructions on 'How to start a flooded engine'
hoping to squeeze some new insight out of them. Then on the second
pull, the engine starts! Hurrah! I raised the sails, cast off the
mooring and (seemingly in response) the engine dies.
Well, this is a *sailing* boat. Lets tack out. I have a dry taste in
my mouth. First to get out of The Cow Pasture into Head Harbour. As it
is only two hours before high water, we are one-sixth off the maximum
height of the tide. If I get stuck, I really for it. After several
tacks and fluky wind I'm out of the shelter of The Cow Pasture. The
wind is now strong and the boat has the rail under and is going far
too fast. I intently study the chart trying to estimate how far to go
on each tack. I can't rely on the presence of lobster pot markers as
lobster boats are built like tanks. Better tack here... hard-a-lee,
good getting up speed again and a strong weather helm. I'm feathering
like crazy to avoid going too fast.
Suddenly, the tiller is pulled almost out of my hand! It leaps to the
center line of the boat and then returns immediately to its previous
position. A great underwater hand had heaved at the rudder. Now my
mouth is really dry. I make the tacks much shorter to stay near the
center of the outer harbour. At last I reach the sea...
Once I get around the corner of Head Island and pass Little Breaking
Edge, I enjoy a wildly overpowered downwind sail, hoping all the time
for the sea state to become less wild. Two hours later I have reached
the north west corner of Roque Island and enter the large sheltered
area of Shorey Cove, This time, I don't even attempt to use the
engine. I tack in, hove-to, flake the anchor rode on the fore deck,
and then tack to an anchoring spot. I turn downwind with the mainsail
sheeted in tight so the boat will slow, then drop the anchor from the
cockpit. When all the fifty feet of rode is out, the boat swing around
to about right angle to the wind. I take advantage of this to dig in
the anchor by using the jib to pull the bow sideways.
Finally with the boat safely moored I can rest a bit, have some coffee
and look around at Roque Island. After all, this is the planned
destination of the trip! But the truth is, I'm not at all relaxed with
outboard on my mind.
MEA CULPA
The day is spent with the boat heaving at anchor in the strong wind. I
spent much of the day tinkering with the engine. I adjust the fuel
mixture (to be leaner) and the idle speed (to be faster).
I'm going to to start from the premise that the engine is OK but my
treatment of it isn't. The operating instructions are read again with
reverence. In the days when the engine had given no problems I had
treated these instructions as pedantic and irrelevant. Now, the New
Reformed Me will follow them with respect. The following was resolved:
a) If the engine does not start on the third pull, don't pull again
but treat as flooded.
b) Start the flooded engine with fuel line disconnected, choke out
and throttle on FAST. Let the engine run until it exhausts the fuel
and stops. c) If the engine is even slightly warm, start with less
choke (or non at all) and with less throttle.
d) Don't power the engine until fully warmed up.
e) I will avoid killing the engine with the red button.
It is extremely windy. During the day, several commercial vessels
arrived and spend the night just outside the cove. However the next
morning when I look out, they have already gone. Grace is the only
boat in Shorey Cove.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
|
| 2246.7 | At Roque Island | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Wed Dec 13 1995 08:18 | 47 |
| Friday 8-SEP-1995 Roque Island
BBA Chart 77 After all the effort in getting to Roque Island, I looke forward to
a lazy day looking about the island. Have a look at the chart, Roque Island has
a remarkable shape being something like the "H" with two large bays, back to
bay. I was anchored in the northern one and today I would go around the island
and have a look at the bay on the other side. After ******, I had anchored off
the One Mile Beach. It looked good with not a single person on the white sand. I
motored towards the beach and my engine failed on the approach! I anchored
anyway but did not get a hard 'bite' with the anchor. Later an on-shore breeze
began and I decided not to risk leaving the boat. So I never set foot on Roque
Island.
Next I went to the nearby Bunker Cove. In the guide book it gets four stars and
I agree that it's amazingly picturesque. I anchored in the spot on the chart
marked as six feet deep. The bottom was covered in weed which was so long it
reached the surface.
I took the dingy to collect muscles and take photographs. When sailing alone I
can take photographs of scenery or photographs of the boat, or of the boat in
the scenary... There is a danger of being obsessive about one's boat. Lets face
it, the key to choosing a boat to buy and own is 'love at first sight'. That's
why there are hundreds of type of boats to choose, all loved or dispised (and
plenty of divorces also).
In Bunker Cove, Grace looked a picture. A Cape Dory 25 is a traditional design
with a narrow hull with nice shear and a rather low freeboard. The bronze ports
are the same as on the large Cape Dories and look cutely large on the 25 rather
like the eyes of a Titmouse.
In Maine where rocks abound, I'm happy to have the 1700 lb of lead on the front
of the full keel. The leading edge of the keel has a sweep angle of 20 degrees
which is good for lobster pot lines as well as rocks.
Enough! Back to the business of collecting muscles. They accumulate here with
muscles upon muscles to a thickness I have no seen elsewhere. I pick nice
looking ones hoping that healthy looking shells go with tasty insides.
When I get back to the boat I found that it appears a little higher in the
water. Indeed it is. The wind has swung it around from the deep side of the cove
to the shallow side. The Taft book had suggested running a line from the stern
to a tree on the east side of the cove. I had not done that mainly beacuse the
trees where twenty feet up a cliff. Some furious rowing pulls Grace off the bank
and I set a second anchor to avoid a re-occurance.
The muscles were delicious.
|
| 2246.8 | IMHO | MCS873::KALINOWSKI | | Wed Dec 13 1995 11:41 | 12 |
|
Mike
I am still awaiting the punch line, but I don't understand why
you haven't tied up at a dock and grabbed a local to fix that blasted
iron lung yet. walk them over, flash some plastic, and tell them if they
can get it purring while you are about, you'll buy them dinner too upon
your return.
1 day of problems, ok , 2 days, well maybe. But this is not
the kind of thing I'd let ruin my hard earned vacation. ;>)
|
| 2246.9 | | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Wed Dec 13 1995 13:43 | 30 |
|
Re 0.8
Well, the engine problem never caused me not to *sail*
and I never allowed it to change my schedule.
I prefered to spend my time in out-of-the way places
which mostly had no facilities of any kind.
I had no desire to wait in town at a boat-yard.
On my trip as related so far, I spent only 15 minutes
at a dock (waiting for a lobster to be cooked).
RE 0.6
'I spent much of the day tinkering with the engine'
That day was spent sheltering from a storm and was
also intended as a rest day after reaching my destination.
BUT
I do have still have a REAL problem with the engine.
Last year the yard charged me about $300 in the Spring
for opening it up to unblock the cooling water passages.
I have just been told that the SAME problem is evident
again.
The engine spends the whole summer sitting in the water
(it can not be raised). There may also be a problem
with fresh air while running as the engine sits in a well.
It's a 1981 vintage - should I buy a new engine?
Mike
|
| 2246.10 | | ACISS1::ROGERSR | hard on the wind again | Wed Dec 13 1995 17:44 | 10 |
| Maybe you could visited Rocque Island after all. All you would have to
do is use your "other" boat anchor. The one with a prop on it. :>)
A dud engine in time of need is the kind of thing that would keep me
awake at night. When my Yanmar was brandy new, the paint on the shutoff
lever overcame the spring pushing it open when the cable is eased. No
fuel at 3am, approaching Put-In-Bay in 35kn true was not fun. Bleed the
line and every possible other trick before I figured this out. ARGHH
|
| 2246.11 | At Jonesport | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Thu Dec 14 1995 10:07 | 68 |
| Saturday 9-SEP-1995 Roque Island to Jonespoirt
Tides flowed and ebbed through the anchorage in the corner of
the Throrofare at Roque Island. The boat pointed in various directions
through the night giving me a puzzle to solve every time I looked out
of the porthole near my head. The dark cliff seemed awfully close. I
had two anchors out and so didn't worry too much.
Two rest days at Roque Island, one spent sheltering from a storm and
the other gunk holing around the island. Oddly enough, I had not gone
ashore at all but seemed quite satisfied with enjoying everything from
the water. Also I have a new activity - writing a journal! I had
managed to draft a description for the whole trip so far. It seems
strange to be writing something in the present tense.
Today I will start heading back (presumable "Up West"). The guidebook
says the entrance to the Jonesport Thorofare is not an easy one in
fog. There are low reefs on either side so after last night's
forecast of rain and possible fog, I will make an early start. I get
up while it is still dark to leave Bunker Cove and set off for
Jonesport. I make the crossing thinking of a hearty breakfast on land
in a restaurant.
I reach the entrance to Jonesport Harbour without incident and take
down my sails. At that point my engine died (Ops! I thought it was on
good behavior by now considering my new policy of TLC.) I put up the
sails again and try to figure out the direction of the almost
non-existant wind. After a good half hour, I have covered the hundred
yards to the nearest free mooring in the harbour. The mooring has
masses of seaweed on it so I'm sure no one will complain about me
being there. The harbour is mostly commercial. Nearby fishermen tell
me it belongs to an old man who doesn't get out much. There are only
two sailing boats in the harbour.
The first thing I do is row to the gas dock and top up both tanks. The
man asks me what is in the black plastic bag and I tell him "garbage".
He adds $1.50 to my bill for the garbage. His apologies are lengthily.
I change the topic to the weather and we speak of the hurricane and
how likely it is to effect Jonesport. He says it has reached the
Georges Bank. After taking the gas back to the boat, I go ashore
again, this time to enjoy a *real* breakfast of eggs, sausage, toast
and pancakes. I post letters, buy postcards, provisions and ice.
Jonesport is a working town with little evidence of summer people.
Walking the mile to the bridge, I noted that every car is American.
Indeed not just 'Made in America' but American true and true with
names like Ford, Dodge and GMC. Actually I do see four cars with
foreign names, three of which are parked outside a single house. The
house has recently acquired a varnished solid wood front door with
brass lanterns. One of those cars (the Volvo) has a 'Live Free or Die'
numberplate. Clearly a foreigner.
The town has many empty lots covered in weeds (actually with lots of
wildflowers). Few gardens had trees. The place is a world away from
Kennebunk, indeed it reminds me of Nova Scotia.
This is the town that has lobster boat races, but you can read about
that in the guidebooks.
One thing not in the guidebook was a marble monument near the bridge
on which is etched a picture of a tall ship under which is the
inscription:
The Nellie Chapin Day.
August 11 1866-1991
In honor of the 157 New Englanders who sailed
from Jonesport to Jaffa 125 years ago to help
restore the Land of Israel.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
|
| 2246.12 | Cape Split & Cooking on a Small Boat | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Mon Dec 18 1995 15:58 | 85 |
| Sunday 10-SEP-1995 Jonesport to Cape Split
BBA Chart 77 to 76
The influence of a hurricane had reached the minds of people on the
Maine Coast. Special warnings came on the VHF weather channels when
the edge of hurricane had reached the Georges Bank. I could not yet
be felt yet at Jonesport but people asked me what I intended to do.
I said I had a long way to go and intended to keep moving down
the coast, even if only in short jumps each day. According
to the guide book, the tide can reach six knots under the Jonesport
Bridge so I wanted to get passed it as soon as possible.
I set the alarm clock for five am.
In the morning, I manage to cast off by six and get under the bridge
during slack water. An easy two hours of motor sailing takes me to
Cape Split where I take a mooring in the deserted and picturesque Otter
Cove. Soon it becomes very windy and the boat pitches wildly even
with waves that had only come across the harbour. I don't fancy rowing
around to the commercial harbour in such conditions so I stay on
board. The day is spent 'fixing things', reading and writing this.
COOKING ON A SMALL BOAT
If this subject doesn't interest you, SKIP IT!
I prepared an elaborate meal in the afternoon. Here are some notes on
how I cook while anchored in some cozy harbour. (While sailing I live
mainly on Kit-Kat, Ginger Snaps and bananas.) I have developed a
method of preparing a meal that hardly varies now and suits my needs
and the constraints of the boat.
* I have a two burner Origo stove, but rarely use more than one
burner. I use the more expensive stove alcohol as it does not leave
the bottoms of pans black and oily.
* I take out all the food that is to be cooked or prepared. This
ensures the ice box is only opened twice, one the take things out and
once to put things back. All items to be chopped or peeled go onto the
table. All other items are put just outside the companionway on the
'bridge'.
* Take out all utensils for cooking and for setting the table. These
are all stored under berth so its best to go crawling only once. At
this time I also take out any spices or herbs I will need as these are
also stored under the berth.
* Cook the rice or pasta using a big pot. The stove has clips that
hold the pan and stop it sliding. Rinsing rice or pasta is to be
avoided to conserve the water in the tank. The rice is cooked in just
enough water so it absorbs all of it. After its been cooked I leave
the pan on the unused burner on the stove. It often keeps warm just by
being close to the cooking.
* While the rice or pasta is cooking I prepare the vegetables. These
are most often spinach, broccoli, or cauliflower. I cook the whole lot
as what is not eaten can be used tomorrow. Boil in very little water
until nearly done. When finished this pan is put on top of the
pasta/rice pan to keep warm. The water in the vegetables will later go
into the meat dish to create a sauce.
* While the vegetables are cooking I prepare the meat (or fish). I
use a large non-stick frying pan. I heat it up very hot - until the
oil has started smoking, then add the meat and put a mesh splash
preventer over the top of the pan. As alcohol fuel doesn't provide a
very hot flame, the pan must be very hot before adding the food,
otherwise water seeping out of the meat causes the frying action to
change into a boiling action with a consequent loss of flavor.
* When intense sizzling in the hot oil has died down, I take off the
splash preventer and sprinkle a lot of garlic (dry chips) and pepper
(rough ground) onto the meat.
* When the meat is nicely brown I turn it. This is the only turning it
gets. I then add sliced onions to the side, keeping the meat in the
hottest part of the pan. Press the onions with a spatula to break them
up into segments, but after that don't touch them again. The part of
the onion touching the pan will become dark brown. After the onion is
partly cooked and also add sliced green pepper and/or mushrooms. I
then cover the pan to cook the vegetables in steam.
* When the food is ready, add a can of cooked rough sliced tomatoes.
With the spatula scrap off any brown material (tasty) adhering to the
pan, so it goes into the sauce.
* Serve with a good wine!
----------------------------------------------------------------------
|
| 2246.13 | The culinary arts | MOVIES::WIDDOWSON | Brought to you from an F64 disk | Tue Dec 19 1995 08:59 | 4 |
| Non sailing question:
If your burner doesn't produce a lot of heat, how do you cook your
mussels ?
|
| 2246.14 | Cooking muscles | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Tue Dec 19 1995 12:59 | 17 |
| Re: .13
Is this really a 'non-sailing question'?
The cooking and eating of freshly collected muscles
is to me one of the great joys of sailing!
The alcohol fuel is easily hot enough to boil water.
In the case of muscles, they are really steamed.
Use about one inch of boiling water, into which
you can drop enough muscles to fill the pan.
Then cover the pan, and wait for all the muscles to open.
To fry meat, the temperature of the pan needs to
be much higher.
Mike
|
| 2246.15 | Bumping into Mount Desert Island | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Wed Dec 27 1995 11:08 | 138 |
| Monday 11-Sept-95 Cape Split to North East Harbour
BBA Chart 76
Up before dawn. Not a single cloud seen. Wind from the west which is
(of course) where I'm going. Raise the genoa and main and motor out
into Western Bay. I study the chart and delight in the fanciful names
of the islands: First Ladle Ledge and Pot Rock. I motor sail to get
further westward and pass Flint Island with its companion Shipstern
Island with a bold cliff. I sail by Jordan's Delight which is quite
bare except for a house perched in an exposed and unlikely location.
This area deserves more time than just a few hours passing through on
the way home.
Now I am to cross the Petit Manan bar. I put on my full yellow
regalia, drink some warm soup and study the charts carefully. I can't
see the bar but feel its awful presence. Large dark swells can be
seen building up on the horizon and following one another towards the
land. I put a reef in the main and then set out. As I approach the
narrow gap in the bar, I'm motor sailing close to the wind which keeps
getting behind the genoa. With binoculars I can see the two large
buoys that mark the crossing. A chop develops. The waves have strange
shapes and some appear stationary. I reach the first buoy and then the
second and I'm over. I little while later I cut the motor. The
approach and the crossing took about an hour, certainly quicker than
going around outside the Petit Manan lighthouse. From the Petit Manan
bar to Schoodic is a battle being closed hauled all the way and
getting further and further from the coast.
On my mind is a consideration quite unrelated to the day's sailing. I
have almost run out of cash! There was no automatic teller machine at
Jonesport and the bank was closed. Furthermore in remote places, the
few businesses there are may not accept credit cards. I consider going
into some harbour east of Schoodic but am deterred at the prospect of
finding myself there with no money, no bank and no ATM. I must get to
Mount Desert Island this evening.
BBA Chart 74
At Schoodic, the winds become variable, then miraculously the wind
backs to the southwest. I go onto the other tack and find myself
heading into Frenchman bay. I'm close hauled again but with the
sea breeze adding its force to the prevailing wind. I take down the
genoa and put up the jib. The main is double reefed. It's a battle
and I long for a bigger boat.
Mount Desert Island at first in the distance and gradually grows to
dominate the scene. From the southeast, it looks much more
interesting than from the southwest as the shadows on the mountain
give it a dramatic three dimensional look. "The Bowl' behind Otter
Cove looks particularly beautiful. I tack along the south coast of the
island watching the tourists watching me. The landscape is marvelous
as the sun gets lower. At last, I call it a day, put on the motor and
take down the sails. I approach Northeast Harbour dreaming of the
showers at the public landing. The day has been very satisfying.
[But the day was not yet over...
'the fun' was just about to begin.]
At the entrance to Northwest Harbour, a mega-yatch is doing something.
It isn't clear what it's doing but it's certainly doing it very
slowly. Possibly it might be trying to line itself up exactly with
the harbour so it will just fit the entrance. Then it begins
to reverse out and after that begins to rotate in-place like a
cat before sitting. I'm concerned to avoid involvement in these
majestic movements so I run along the very edge of the channel. I
intend to enter the harbour between G"1"C and RN"4". While
approaching the latter, my engine stops. The boat begins to slow
but I quickly restart the engine. However when I put it into gear,
it stalls immediately.
[The reader may recognize what has happened.]
The boat continunues in the direction of the lee-shore propelled
by a brisk wind. I raise the sails, get up some speed and then tack.
The boat does not turn but remains pointing downwind towards the shore.
Now this situation I recognize and rush to the transom. Looking over
I see I'm towing a line, probably a lobster pot, but at the amazing
speed of about two knots. I ease the jib and the main to slow the
speed of towing and change course for a group of moorings
just east of RN"4".
[This is a BAD mistake!]
I rush below to get the boat hook. When I reach the mooring, I throw the
tiller over... but the boat does not coast to the mooring as usual.
Not surprising considering what I'm towing. I reach out with the
boat hook but it's just out of reach! The boat is now traveling
sideways towards a antique racing day sailer. I consider rafting up
against it but it looks so fragile (and expensive) that I dismiss the
idea. I pass to the leeward side of this lovely craft and look for
the next available mooring. I'm worried by the sight of the next
(last) mooring as it seems suitable for a rowing boat. At this moment,
I look down and see sand, stones and seaweed.
Within seconds I have thrown in my main anchor and this farce comes
to an terminal situation. The boat holds. I notice that the wind has
dropped as the sun sits on the horizon. It wonderfully peaceful and
the sound of the waves on the shore comes to my attention. I throw
the smaller anchor as far from the bow as I can. I haul it in but it
only bites the bottom maybe fifteen feet off. I next pass rode of the
large anchor through the bow fitting, back to the winch and tie the
bitter end to the mast. I flake the rode into the dingy and then
hoping the lobster pot will hold the stern (!) pull up the main
anchor and put it into the dingy. The deck is now a maze of lines and
the sails are flapping. I hope I've got it right.
I row the anchor out, pitch it in and then row madly back to "Grace".
I crank at the winch and "Grace" turns towards the channel. I rush to
the bow and pull up the small anchor and bring it to the stern. I am
beginning to loose track of the complexity of the lines. I kedge the
small anchor out about a hundred feet. Now I have an anchor on each
jib sheet winch but I fear I am being overtaken by the ebbing of the
tide. Next, I get the lobster line off the propeller and start the
engine, but all this is too late. "Grace" is stuck.
Time to tidy up, have a beer and watch the starts come out. I listen
to Mozart. Watch the coming and going of a tender to the mega-yatch
and wait. From time to time, I cranked a turn on each anchor rode.
Grace is spared the indignity of lying on her side as low tide is to
occur only two hours after the grounding. I could really enjoy this
pleasant evening if I were not aground. Then I realize "Grace" has
moved and crank the winches and then haul hand over hand. I start the
engine.
Tired but relieved, I motor into the harbour. I use my new spot light
to find my way. Its not easy as the brilliant light on the shrouds
completely destroys my night vision.
When I get near the public landing I cannot recognize where to go as
the whole area is a blaze of confusing lights. I decide to return to a
empty mooring among some commercial boats and turn about. As the boat
is doing the U-turn, there is a loud repetitive banging on the hull.
I'm alarmed and for a few seconds can't figure it out, then to my
intense embarrassment I realize it is my anchor that is banging. I had
raised and stowed only one anchor. I'm shocked that I have just towed
the other anchor and twelve feet of chain all around the harbour.
Fortunately it surfs nicely when towed...
I slept soundly.
|
| 2246.16 | At Northeast Harbour | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Tue Jan 09 1996 16:24 | 77 |
| [Here's another episode from warmer days...]
12-Sept-195 Northeast Harbour to Stonington
SHOCKING PINK BBA Chart 74
Ah! Getting up and looking out on Northeast Harbour. Wealth all around
in charming scenery. Even taking a shower is possible. Much needed
laundry can be done. Ice and other essential provisions such as Danish
pastry may now be purchased, but first to get a real breakfast!
Actually, the first thing is to visit an Automatic Teller machine.
(The first one available, so far, on my trip.)
The laundrette was in the basement of a general store. I read a
newspaper while the machine purrs and chugs. A young woman came in.
Very tanned, wearing a short rain jacket and loose baggy shorts which
somehow managed to be tight over her buttocks. This latter feature was
observed each of the four times she went up the staircase to the
shop. We spoke only about matters pertaining to the machines, in
particular about the effectiveness of the dryers. She was confident
and pleasant and seemed very contented with life. I speculated on
whether or not she was older than my daughters.
After the drying, I struggled back to the boat with the laundry and
also a block of ice and some provisions. For expected winds of 15-20
mph, I prepared a jib and single reefed main and then tied them down.
At 1200, I left the mooring under power and steered out through
neighboring boats. Ahead a faded green double-ender caught my
interest. Signs of long distance cruising included a vane and deck
encrusted with lashed down gear. A man in a dingy was handing things
up to a woman. As I came nearer, she stood up to watch me pass. This
is a common occurrence as "Grace" is a pretty boat. I then recognized
the young woman from the laundrette. She looked better now with her
dark hair loose and blown back. The man in the dingy also turned. He
was an old man with a completely white beard extending to his belt. As
I passed their boat, I saw lashed to the rail on the other side, a
brilliant pink windsurfer contrasting to the tired green paint of the
cabin.
WESTERN WAY
Outside the harbour, I raise the main with one reef and the working
jib and motor south down the Western Way channel between Mount Desert
Island and Great Cranberry Island. Although the prevailing wind is
from the south west, it is funneled directly down this channel. Also
the channel is shallow, much less than 20 feet in most parts and there
are some reefs. A red and a green buoy can be seen ahead, close
together. The red is on the 'wrong side' and one has to zigzag
through. At this very point, the waves have a very short distance
between crests seemingly less than the length of the boat. I don't
believe they are really that short but it does look like it. Some of
them are five feet high. After going over a larger than usual wave, I
must head off before the next one is upon me, but as these square
waves follow each other without a break, I am getting more and more
off-course. A huge yacht called "Royal Affair" passes me. The wild
nature of the Western Way has no detectable effect on her stately
course. Another boat, not stately at all can be seen ahead. She is a
small square-rigged boat with very nautical gentlemen all with beards
in the cockpit. She rolls wildly from side to side and as she passes I
see "Boston" on the transom but don't manage to read here name.
I reach G"1" GONG and turn west. It has taken me 90 minutes to cover
these 2.3 nautical miles,
Next, I beat across Blue Hill Bay, put the engine on to go through the
Casco Passage and then beat across Jericho Bay. When I reach the
entrance to the Dear Island Thorofare, the wind is coming from dead
ahead, so at RN"10", I take down the jib and start the engine.
Finally I moor among the lobster boats at Stonington and after six
hours of 'hard on the wind', I'm tired.
The night at Stonington is a night of rolling and the strong wind keeps
waking me.
[I would advise anyone passing this way to spend the night anchored
among the islands rather than at Stonington. There are many places to
anchor but the one I know best is at Merchant Harbour at Merchant
Island.]
|
| 2246.17 | Stonington -- avoid it | UNIFIX::BERENS | Alan Berens | Tue Jan 09 1996 16:56 | 20 |
| Re Stonington:
Basically, Stonington is a place to avoid unless you desperately need
the services of Billings Marine and Diesel. The drinking water is
terrible and the local lobstermen are (in general) unbelieveably rude.
They take apparent great joy in leaving as large a wake as possible as
close to you as possible and the engines on their boats have no
mufflers. The grocery store on the waterfront was excellent the (one)
time we went there. There are many nice anchorages near Stonington
amidst the islands of Merchant Row. They'd be even nicer without the
local lobstermen .....
The prevailing attitude of the locals seems to vary from place to
place. The lobstermen in Bucks Harbor (the one way down east past Roque
Island) are quite considerate. The time we anchored in the outer harbor
every one passed us at no wake speed as they went out around dawn. We
had a delightful chat with one older fellow who sold us seven lobsters
for $20 (it would have been less if he'd had change).
Alan
|
| 2246.18 | Across East Penobscott Bay | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Wed Jan 10 1996 11:35 | 65 |
| Wednesday 13-September-1995 Stonington to North Haven
EAST PENOBSCOT BAY BBA Chart 68
After a troubled night in which the boat constantly rolled, veered
and shuddered at the mooring. I looked out of bed at a dark gray
morning and did not get up. Eventually I put on the VHF. The forecast
is worse. For the coast: a Small Craft Advisory, wind SW 15-25 mph
with showers and maybe thunderstorms. For the sea: SW 20-30 knots
with higher gusts. I finally cast off at 0915 hours. For the crossing
I have set a storm jib and double reefed main but first I have to get
out of the Deer Island Thorofare to Mark Island. The wind is exactly
on the nose as I motor out.
There are no other boats and I have nagging doubts concerning my
sanity. I try a pair of swim goggles. (Those small ones that just
cover the eyeballs.) I can't get them on without water droplets
inside and my vision is reduced a great deal. Eventually I give up and
return to simply crouching down low when spray breaks over the deck.
Fortunately my eyes are not effected by the salt, but I would be nice
to have a dodger...
I reach Mark Island and am still unable to see Vinal Haven. To the
south, two sailing boats are coming from from Merchant Row. One has
brown sails. They are on a relatively comfortable point of sail and
maybe heading for Castine. They wave and this raises my spirits.
I pass the the last buoy, turn off the engine and head off into a
close hauled course. Grace now reminds me why I sail. Despite the
turbulent elements, the hull never pounds the waves. The little boat
takes it easily and hardly any water comes over the deck. Grace has a
mast only 29 feet above the sea and the modest sail area is now much
reduced so the rail is not in the water. I'm passed by a trawler and a
small cruise ship and its comforting they are on the same course. Soon
the islands begin to appear ahead. They look familiar. I have sailed
here often and in the height of summer it's 'just an afternoon sail'.
Well, I beat across East Penobscot Bay on one long beat. I'm using the
Loran for the first time on this trip and it is very helpful in giving
me my offset. The wind is causing leeway to the northwest but the tide
is setting me back towards the southwest. They more or less cancel
each other so I need only a couple of short tacks as I get near
Babbidge Isle. The 3.9 nautical mile crossing takes two hours but
seemed like a lot longer. After reaching the Fox Island Thorofare I
motor-sail to Northaven.
A COUNTRY VILLAGE
I row ashore to fill a gas tank. There is a young man at the end of
the fuel dock apparently dressed for tennis. He looks forlorn as if
waiting for someone. I nod to him but I have no desire for small talk.
I just can not bridge the gap between my experience of the sea outside
and this other world of houses and solid streets. It seems bewildering
that both exist in the same time. I leave the fuel dock and go for a
walk on much needed land. The houses in North Haven are good looking
and the post office stately. There are very few shops. The
restaurants are closed for the season. North Haven has the peaceful
atmosphere of a remote country village in which little happens. The
gardens now bear botanical profusions which years ago were selected
neat shrubs. I feel the place to be inhabited by genteel folk who have
used up nearly all their capital and are struggle to get by on minimal
expenses. There are probably few sources of local income. I find I
can not use my credit card here and this contributes in a tiny
incremental way to the lack of commerce.
If you want to experience this atmosphere, go soon! The ferry dock is
being massively expanded and all this may be swept away.
|
| 2246.19 | LAZING IN NORTH HAVEN | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Fri Jan 19 1996 16:30 | 108 |
| Thursday 14-September-1995 North Haven to Rockland
LAZING IN NORTH HAVEN
Yesterday, after walking around North Haven, it seemed too late
to continue to Rockland. Besides I would enjoy a rest (this is a
*vacation*) so I spent the afternoon lazing around and watching
the coming and going in the harbour. You may get the
impression, I don't go ashore much, which is true. When not
sailing, I'm often 'fixing things' on board, otherwise I'm
quite happy to sit-and-look. The four bronze ports are at
eye-height so I can see out of them when seated. Looking out of
the companionway I can see over the combings. So now I'm sitting
on my berth with my feet propped up on the sink with the intent
of reading a book. The boat swings from side to side in the wind
giving me a constantly changing view. The neighboring boats are
also swinging providing a constant spatial puzzle. There is
always some activity in a harbour. People are being picked up
from the road on the south side. Several young people pass in an
outboard, cross the channel, tie up at a private dock and then
walk up the steeply sloping lawn to one of the great houses. An
hour or so later I see them returning. What kind of people use
these great gray mansions (called "cottages")? I try to catch up
writing this journal but there are endless distractions. The
ferry comes out and then ponderously turns around and goes back
in. Why did it do that? Why does it have to be the other way
around for the night? I suppose every sailor enjoys watching a
harbour - indeed just being on board a boat is itself a
pleasure.
The weather forecast for tomorrow: small craft advisory, gusts,
fog, showers and a thunderstorm. OH great! A supreme effort must
be made to get up and leave here tomorrow before the weather
wakes up. I study what waypoints I have in the Loran and find one
at the RW "FT" BELL (leaving Fox Island Thorofare) and one at
C"7" ( arriving at Owls Head, Rockland). I have done this
crossing a number of times so I'm not too concerned about fog.
TO ROCKLAND BBA Chart 68 to 68 A
After a good night's sleep, I get up at 5am, ready a box of
wheat thins, ginger snaps, Kit-Kat etc and put them close to the
companionway prepare the boat and finally motor down the
Thorofare in a dull gray dawn. At Brown's head there is fog, but
I'm pleasantly surprised that I can just make out the large stone
pillar at Fidler's Ledge known as The Beacon.
I shall never forget the Beacon. Some years ago, on a summer's
day with good visibility, the Beacon 'jumped out' from behind my
genoa! Now as to how such a large object could hide there, I
don't know. My daughter was helming at the time, and I was
supposed to be piloting. We said nothing but were both clearly
shocked. Since then I have been much more conscious of the flow
of the tide passing across the broad entrance to the Fox
Thorofare. I suppose the shallowness of the water increases the
force of the tide.
Back to the present. I can't see the RW"FT"BELL, indeed, I can
see very little in this fog. When I get to GC"23"GONG, I
instruct the Loran to "GOTO" the bell. I note the display of
bearing and range and then look at the chart. Wow! The chart has
quite a different bearing and range. The chart says 249 (degrees
magnetic) and 2.4 (nautical miles), whereas the Loran says 261
and 2.61. I decide to follow the chart and throw in another five
degrees for the tide. Half an hour later I stop and listen, then
proceed directly to the bell. At the bell, I record a new
waypoint.
Shortly after this the fog lifts which is a relief for a lot of
traffic crosses to and from Rockland. Now the wind begins to pipe
up and I have an excellent ride across the bay reaching the
breakwater in Rockland Harbour after one hour.
About the Loran. I obtained the bearing and range between my two
waypoints for the bell and it was 135 and 0.65. Concerning this
huge discrepancy, the displayed lat/long for the bell was 44
05.00 and 68 56.50. Note the trailing zeros! I had probably keyed
in this data from the chart, two years ago. I now keep a note
book of all waypoints with a comment on those that are keyed in
rather than measured.
THUNDERSTORM AT ROCKLAND
Rockland Harbour was full of yachts with hardly a mooring vacant.
The Harbour Master calls this the "Newport of the East".
I checked in at the Harbour Master's Office and enjoyed having a
shower, after which I went into town for lunch. The main street
shows obvious signs of new prosperity. After the meal, I look in
at the busy bookshop/coffee house, and buy some books. Outside
sky is darkening, so I head back quickly to the harbour.
The row out to my boat is a race to beat the rain. Dark and very
low clouds are scudding across the bay. The rowing boat drives
downwind with speed and ease. I have some difficulty in finding
Grace as she is hidden among neighboring sailboats. When I see
Grace, I have already passed her and it surprises me how
difficult it is to row back. When I get to Grace, I am blown
back twenty feet just while getting the painter ready. I get on
board just in time. The sky is almost black. There is a HUGE
thunderstorm which is enjoyable to watch from *inside*.
Rockland Harbour is a good place to be in a thunderstorm.
After the storm is over, all the hundred sailboats turn together
to face the other direction. The sun appears low on the horizon
but incredibly bright in the clear air. With the sun shining
under the black clouds, the sailboats look as if illuminated by a
photographic flash. A dense dark lack of visibility can be seen
outside the harbour moving off across Penobscott Bay. The air
becomes suddenly cold.
|
| 2246.20 | Across Muscungous Bay | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Wed Feb 07 1996 15:49 | 78 |
| Friday 15-Sept-1995 Rockland to Linekin Bay
BBA Chart 68A
After yesterday's storm I expected windows to be northerly and
indeed they were. Days of struggle against southwest winds are
over. A clear blue sky, crisp dry wind, astonishing clear
visibility and touches of fall foliage on the hills. I got away
fairly early and sailed out of Rockland Harbour through the
ranks of moored sailboats.
Sailing down the Muscle Ridge Channel brings back many pleasant
memories. A few years ago I kept Grace moored at Spruce Head (in
'False Whitehead Harbour) and know the area well. A south west
wind can blow fiercely down this channel so I was thankful that
today I had a north westerly. Even when the wind died at the
White Head light, I experienced the pleasant feeling of
familiarity.
By 1040, I was crossing the bay towards Mosquito Island, watching
a windjammer emerge from Tenants Harbour with crew climbing the
rat lines. By now the land was covered with fluffy 'fair weather
clouds'. These clouds tended to evaporate as soon as they reached
the shore but occasionally one of them would persist until
overhead when I would get a good blow for a few minutes.
I took the short cut passed Port Clad, motor sailing down the
passage into a head wind. Near Port Clad I found the navigational
aids confusing. The rather critical C"3" at Allan Ledge seems to
be missing. A pleasure 'trawler' passes me and near the Port
Clad entrance appears to hesitate in adopting a course with
clear intent. It's fascinating that one can see such a state of
mind while watching a boat. After this hesitation, he passes a
buoy on the wrong side but without mishap.
BBA Chart 63
Passing between Thompson Isle and Dives Isle, I entered
Muscungous Bay. This passage can be disconcerting in poor
visibility as there are many rocks, ledges and small islands.
Today, all is crystal clear and ahead I can see Old Hump Ledge as
well as Eastern Egg Rock and its attendant bell. Ahead in the
distance, a single sailboat can be seen heading towards me.
Muscungous Bay seems to be an 'in between' place which one
crosses while going somewhere. I have crossed it several times in
both directions but never stayed. The last time a couple of years
ago, was in rough weather and I lost my rowing boat. I had looked
back and there I was towing a painter with only a bronze pad eye
and some broken screws on the end of it.
With all sails set and small waves, the boat is driven at an easy
but satisfying pace (3.6 knots) and in an hour I reach Eastern
Egg Rock. The sailboat that I have been watching all the while
now passes and appears to be a Hinkley. The occupants wave
enthusiastically. There are no other boats in sight.
I'm hit by a squall. I have been watching the cloud for two hours
and done nothing more than put in the lower washboard but now
suddenly it arrives. The boat is wildly overpowered so I hove to
but with full sail, the boat heels down to the rail and I think
I may go over. Grace however says no. I get down the genoa and
furl the main. I took some photographs.
[ Looking at the photographs later, I'm disappointed as it is
impossible to see in them that anything at all is happening! ]
Passed Pemaquid Point into Saint John's Bay with its jewell-like
coastline, the Thread of Life. Each island a contrast of dark fir
trees and light granite brilliant in the sun. Above some are
clouds dark gray and others a fluffy white. What a sight! This is
what cruising is about. Behind me the squall has almost reached
Monhegan with only a strange empty skeleton of clouds remaining.
I head for Linekin Harbour which I prefer to Boothbay and anchor
in Lewis Cove. It seems that every year moorings are added
filling up the shallow water making it more and more difficult to
anchor. Lewis Cove is a pleasant place. It's quiet. Later faint
strains of music can be heard coming over the narrow neck,
presumably from the jazz boat in Boothbay Harbour.
|
| 2246.21 | Return to Quahog Bay | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Wed Feb 14 1996 10:43 | 66 |
| Saturday 16-Sept-1995 Lynekin Bay to Quahog Bay
BBA Chart 62
"Grace" is now one day from home. Even now she is sitting in the
familiar Lewis Cove on a perfect calm early morning. We can
expect wind soon but in the meantime can have a relaxed
breakfast. The air is cool, a bit nippy and I opt for a
traditional oatmeal cooked rough and with salt but served with
milk and honey. Yum!
I have never set foot on Damariscove Island. There is good reason
for this. It is a long narrow low windswept island pointing out
to sea and at the extreme windward end is a narrow harbour
entrance with rocks on either side. After looking at the chart,
I have always said to myself "Don't even think of it!" However
today there is a gentle northerly breeze and the water is still
glassy. I motor out to the island and enter (carefully).
I take the first mooring I meet with and row to the dock. The
caretaker is reading a book and sunning himself in a sheltered
spot. There is no-one else there. I walk along the hiking trails
around the harbour. Along the narrow trails with high vegetation
either side the island becomes a world of its own. One is not
even conscious of the sea. But then I go up to the small hill
from which I can look over the island, the surrounding islands
and the whole of the Boothbay coastline. Why is it so satisfying
to look out on such a large vista? From above the long narrow
harbour I take a series of photographs make a panorama.
Several motor cruisers are edging around the harbour and dropping
in anchor on tiny lengths of rode. My stomach tells me it's lunch
time and I make my way back to the dock and return to Grace.
BBA Charts 61 & 60
While I'm having lunch, Grace turns around to face the new sea
breeze. By the time I leave Damariscove, the breeze is
established and I'm heading for Seguin Island. This island is
like a monument and gives character to the whole coastline. I
decide to sail passed the island on the windward side but that
means being close hauled. After an hour of sailing I put on the
Loran to discover what the tide is doing to my course. I wonder
why I'm so determined to get passed Seguin on a single tack. As I
approach the island the wind becomes more favorable I a pass
easily. What a magnificent island!
After a total of two and a half hours sailing, I pass Cape Small.
Again no unfavorable wind is encountered. I'm amazed at my good
look. Now its just downwind sailing to Quahog Bay.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
So my two weeks sailing is over. I imagine returning home to the
world of house and kitchen and cars and bathrooms. To walk into
a room where people are watching television and they ask "How was
it?" while continuing to watch. To meet people in the office who
say "How was it?". What answer can I give other than a
meaningless "Marvelous!".
Yet it was marvelous. Now nearly five months later with Grace
wrapped in a blue tarpaulin and covered still with snow, I
frequently think of this trip. I marvel at the sheer variety of
experiences of sun and calm and rain and fog and storm and placid
glassy anchorages when Grace hardly stirred. Now thoughts have
turned to the coming season...
Mike
|
| 2246.22 | 12 weeks and a day til launch, but who's counting? | DELNI::CARTER | | Thu Feb 15 1996 13:08 | 12 |
| Mike,
I have sailed in Maine only a few times, so reading your notes here has
allowed me to vicariously enjoy more of Maine by following your adventures.
Your occasionaly entries here have been timed well enough to have gotten me
half way through my off season.
Thanks for taking the time to make these last umpteen entries.
djc
|
| 2246.23 | Postscript | MUZICK::THOMPSON | Mike LMO2-1/M13 | Mon May 06 1996 13:47 | 25 |
|
In my 'Sailing Down East', you may recall I had many problems
with my engine. Well, last week I purchased a new Johnson 6HP.
This fits into the engine well quite confortably.
It also has the gear shift on the front rather than the side
which is easier to get at.
Additionally, I can pass the handle through the hole in the
bulkhead and out into the cockpit.
The handle can be easily unbolted because the throttle control
is a wire inside a cable (rather than the more common wires
that run over pulleys).
The dealer ran the old motor and found that after about
ten minutes it began to overheat. (Even with a new water pump
impellor it still did this.)
This overheating was likely the cause of the stalling problem
I experienced on my trip. Stalling was especially probable when
I reduced throttle on approaching a dock.
He gave me $50 for the trade :-)
Mike
|