Somes Sound to Rockland, Maine

     Stopping at Dysart's Marina in Southwest Harbour, Beth walked up to West Marine to get the new regulator for the barbeque while I filled up the aft tank,s taking on 217 gallons of fresh diesel. We rinsed the salt off the boat and headed out under the following conditions-- cloudy with 2 to 4 foot seas. We elected to bear some open water to try and get to Rockland, Maine.
      As we wound our way through the islands and entered Eggemoggin Reach, the sun broke through the clouds and a spectacular cruising ground appeared before us . Several sailboats were plying the waters with crew and passengers all waving as they passed by. This is very protected water. As we approached the western end the lobster pots disappeared and beautiful Penobscot Bay opened up.  Really it was like being on a lake with several islands sitting tranquilly in the clear dark blue water.
                                                                                

                                                     Lighthouse in Penobscot Bay

     I had planned on stopping at a small mooring field that Beth and I, and my brother-in-law Danny Collins had previously stayed at when we had a 32 foot Carver, named Debonnair. The easy cruising seduced us into continuing on down Isleboro Island to Rockport.  Maybe if I had rechecked the tide I might have changed my mind, but I doubt it. It was the first good cruising day we had in weeks of fog and inclement weather but it got somewhat rougher. The tide was incoming and we were going out along with an afternoon breez against the tide.  This made for some moderate swells.  Nothing bad but enough up and down that poor little Sophie got seasick and let me know by vomiting on my jacket.. (at least it wasn't on the seat!)
                                                                             

                          Rockland, Maine Harbour with Camden Hills in the background


     We pulled into Rockport just behind one of the several ferries. We were directed to a rather open and unprotected mooring ball. This left us rocking and rolling with each idiot sport fishing and Sea Ray boat that blew by, above the posted no wake speed. The ferries, though seemingly travelling faster than I would have liked, really didn't rock us that bad, but the dragger that fished the bay knocked us all over the place. Thankfully we were in bed so other than picking up a few overturned lamps, there was no damage.
                                                                            

                                           Large Tall Ship exiting Rockland Harbour.

                                                                               

                                         Next morning....fogged-in Rockland Harbour
                                                 
     In the morning we took the dogs in the dingy and found a local park for them to play for a couple of hours before the rain hit. After returning them to the boat, we went to explore Rockland. What a nice little town. Everything was within walking distance of the landing including an organic fresh food market, very artsy galleries, eateries from McDonalds to sushi, and fresh home cooked seafood. We ate at Hill's seafood, across from the park.
                                                                             

                                                                                 

     Starting with Portland brewed "Allagash" beer (a very light colored wheat beer with a kick!), Beth relished her full bellied clams while I savored the sea scallops. The portions were big enough that neither of us entertained the thought of dessert.
                                                                             

     The best part of Rockland for us was the Farnsworth Gallery.  They had on display many of the works of well known Maine painter, Andrew Wyeth. The most intriguing painting was of a lightly bearded Scandinavian man with a black toque apparently lying asleep in a dingy placed in a barn, but he wasn't asleep. He was dead! He was a fishing buddy of Wyeth's. They had enjoyed many years of sleeping in the dingy, rocked by the incoming ocean swells.  The man was given a viking funeral in that dingy.
   We spent two days in Rockland  because of the inclement fog and rain. Given the threat of a thunder storm the following evening we decided to head to Boothbay rather than stay on an open mooring.
    

Finally We Begin...Eastport to Somes Sound

     The weather report didn't portend well.  A brisk 15 to 20 knot breeze from the north had started up in the wee hours of the morning rocking Doc's Holiday up against the dock.  There were white caps on the water and the only thing preventing the boat from getting more scratches was the multitude of bumpers we placed the evening before.  The weather prediction was for this wind to continue and push against a south east swell of 2 feet.  The waves were predicted to be 3 to 5 feet but NO Fog!

                                                                             

                                              Docs Holiday leaving Old Sow Whirlpool

                                                                                   

                                                       Eastport Breakwater Dock
Just a little side note. The Eastport Breakwater Dock collapsed this winter. The estimated time line for the dock to be repaired is two years. If you zoom in on the picture you will note two fellows sitting on chairs at the end of the dock. We were told these guys are NOAA employees. Their job is to spot seals. If a seal is spotted within 200 yards of the dock, all work is to cease for 30 minutes. Apparently some sort of noise violation that disturbs the seals. If you have been in the Passamaquoddy Bay you will know that the Bay is full of seals....not sure how much work they get done on the breakwater on a daily basis but you can bet it will take much longer than 2 years to complete!



     We eased the boat off the dock and glided toward the Lubec bridge.  The tide had changed and there was just a small ripple of surface wave in the Bay and a good push through the Lubec Narrows.  We zipped under the bridge and stuck our nose out into the Atlantic. We were prepared to tough out bigger waves so we could get going before we got socked in with more fog, but to our surprise and relief we encountered waves of 1 foot and a small swell.  The wind and tide were pushing us toward Mount Desert Island. The sun was shining and Beth was grinning from ear to ear.
Finally, the break in weather we had been waiting for and for once the weather gurus erred in our favor.

                                                                               

                                                     
                                                    Lubec/Campobello Bridge

                                                                                   

                                                              
                                                               Leaving Lubec

                                                                                

                         Gulf of Maine looking at tip of Grand Manan Island, New Brunswick


     We took the local lobstermen's advice and took a course of 225 deg. after rounding sail rock, then after 3 miles, 245 deg toward Southwest Harbour.  This kept us 3 to 4 miles offshore and we avoided having to dodge the multitude of lobster traps inshore....that is until we closed in on SW Harbour. There it began...the Lobster trap shuffle...a dance we would have to continue all the way up Somes Sound and probably all the way out of Maine. 
     If you look at a map of Mount Desert Island, you will see a narrow crack up the middle.  It's like some giant took a big axe and struck the island dead center.  Indeed, struck it down to, in some places 200 feet.  Somes Sound is the only fijord on the East Coast and it is spectacular. Enveloped by straight rocky cliffs and evergreen covered slopes one can relax in a well protected harbor and enjoy the natural surroundings. Spencer and Sophie, our two Yorkies sat high in the helm seats with their noses in the air, sniffing the changing aromas.
                                                                         

                                                         Cruising up Somes Sound

                                                                                   

                                                                            
     In the evening we enjoyed fresh Caesar's salad with Salmon steaks on the barbie, chased with ice cold beer. Adding to the serenity of the place, two loons called back and forth as we tucked in and drifted off to sleep.
     Getting up at 4:30 a.m. has its advantages. As the light begins to dawn over the cliffs of the fijord  we could hear the world come to life. First the song birds, than the crows and finally we heard the seagulls plaintiff cry.  Topping all this, two seals entertained us by gliding around the anchored boats looking for their breakfast.

                                                                               

                                                                                   

      It was time to relax and enjoy the fruits of our labors getting Doc's Holiday prepared for the trip back to Florida.
      The only issue we had with the boat was the barbecue.  I had to hold the regulator down continuously or the flame would go out.  We would stop in Southwest Harbour and get a new regulator in the morning.


    

So the Adventure Begins

     As I sat writing the blog, Beth sent a text message to tell me she thought the boat had either drifted back because of a long chain on the mooring, or we were dragging! I quickly jumped into the dingy and sped back to Doc's Holiday to see the mooring that was initially behind us, passing under the boat.
"Holy crap! We're dragging the mooring all around the bay." I exclaimed as my eyes widened and  met a sober, I told you so look, from Beth.

                                                                           

     In the fog and rain, we quickly fired up the Detroits, cleared the buoys and lobster pots and headed back to Seaview Camp Ground.  We called Basil, who met us at the dock to help us get in and tied up in a brisk North wind. (which meant another minor scratch to the hull even though we had all the bumpers out!)
      The good part is this happened during the daylight and it alerted the Chowder House that their was a problem  they could fix before any accidents occurred.
       Interestingly, even though the weather report indicated conditions would be deteriorating, as soon as we were tied up the sun came out, the wind died down, and our peeps at Basil's pub were elated that we had returned.  Yes, there were lots of quips like "Quick trip to Florida, eh Doc!"

                                                                         

                                                            Back to Seaview

                                 
      Providence, is the only way I can explain what happened next. We told our peeps that we had put a verbal offer (which was turned down) on a water front cottage near the campground. Paul and Chris Cox knew of several waterfront properties that would be coming on the market that would not likely be listed.  Chris cheerfully insisted that we leave our beer on the bar and jump in her car so she could show them to us. (no, she is not a real estate agent, just the typical friendly people that have been attracted to and settled in Eastport).
     There it was. A home on a point of land overlooking the entire bay, including the whirlpool Old Sow, and most impressively with a view of my home, Franklin Delano Roosevelt's, "Beloved Isle", Campobello. Perfect and Basil knows the owner, who may want to sell.  This we will pursue further.
                                                                           

                                               Ralphs dream home in Eastport!

   I would be remiss in not thanking Basil for helping us get back to dock. The day before he was hauling lobster traps and his leg got caught up in the rope going to the hauler. (the winch used to pull the traps aboard the boat.) Not only did it injure his leg but he broke a couple of ribs! I did not notice anything was wrong until I caught him holding his side when he was laughing.  He had pulled on lines and pushed our boat without as much as a grimace.  Bottom line....hearty, caring folks, that don't whine, want or expect sympathy.  They just do their job and enjoy what life has to offer.
    
     

Fogged IN

                            Sunrise overlooking Deer Island, New Brunswick, Canada from Seaview                                                                                                  

                                                 Leaving Seaview , Eastport, Maine

   Glumly I sit watching the droplets of rain slowly trickle down the window, barely able to see Doc's Holiday swaying on the mooring only 100 feet away. We didn't get three miles from Seaview Camp Ground when we looked up and saw a wall of fog coming in over the Lubec-Campobello bridge . Before we got half way, the bridge became invisible as the fog surrounded us like a shroud. We stopped and waited. Within minutes the bridge appeared and disappeared. It's known locally as a "breathing fog" and what was on the other side of it was to us, unknown.                                                                                                                                        
                                                                        
 "No way", says Beth.  "I'm not going. "

"But! But! But," I managed to squeak out.

"No Buts. I'm not going. PERIOD! End of discussion.!" was her response.

  I was stymied.  We turned and took a mooring in front of the Eastport Chowder House.


                                                                              

                                                                    "FOG"                                
                
     All of my peeps who thought they might be able to help me get the boat south, now had other commitments or different time lines.  Shrugging off my suggestion of recruiting a bikini clad crew with "Go for it!", Beth reluctantly agreed. (Who says pleading with a pouting lower lip doesn't work!)
I was not about to lose the one crew that I knew would stick with me the whole trip.
     Anyway, Eastport is a great place to be stranded.  Filled with hard working, friendly, fun-loving people who go out of their way to make things enjoyable for those who wander into the area.
      Take Bob Del Papa for instance, a business owner and restauranteur (owner of the Chowder House and the Waco diner).  He admitted that he makes a little more than breaking even  here in Eastport, but it was worth it because of the local people that have befriended and helped him build his business. " These are the friendliest people in the world," he commented.
     Take Susha for instance. A beautiful Russian bartender/waitress who works for Bob at the Chowder House, quick to laugh when I tried to replicate her ordering a cocktail  in Russian.  "No, its WODKA! Only harder with a growl." she yelled.  Patrons at the bar broke out laughing.
     Bob has installed new docks in front of the Waco Diner and new heavy mooring balls in front of the Chowder House. " No charge for locals because they are going to come in to eat." says Bob. Transients pay only $25.00 per night for the mooring balls and the food is excellent.
    My brother-in -law Danny Kennedy and I spent weeks fixing all that continued to plague Doc's Holiday after her long lay up.  Danny Waggoner from Eastport, and I spent days getting the computerized navigation system functioning.  A big thank you to the Dannies and a host of others who helped (my good friend Marshall Lucas, Nick and Wendy Reid, Basil Pottle, and of course Beth.)
     In the three days prior to our planned departure, Beth supplied the boat with what she thought were the essentials.  "Damn! Do you think we are going across the Atlantic!" I quipped.  We spent three days wrapping and freezing steaks, salmon, hamburger, and the all important bologna, along with hauling cases of bottled water, fruits, vegetables, frozen bread, potatoes and enough butter to slide our way to Florida. All in all we were exhausted before we began to leave,  so a few days sitting in the fog would allow us to rest up and if I have my way, catch up on a little alone time.