Back in the heat: fishing with Peter

Back home on Dorado, my sweet tiny floating home! I leave chilly, windy Cape Cod and emerge from JetBlue four hours later to warm & muggy, mild breeze. Low tourist season, so there are no taxis willing to take me on the last leg from Cruz Bay to Coral Bay... and no bus since it is Saturday. After 1.5 hrs of sweating profusely I finally hitch a ride.

My kayak was missing... borrowed... but Peter motored me out and we retrieved it. Both paddles were gone: one stolen and the other borrowed... and sunk. *grumble*. Well, I had a canoe paddle aboard Dorado, so got by until I bought myself new paddles a few days later. No worries.


We had lightning flashing in distant clouds most days and, even better, at night. Beautiful! None of it has passed over us, but plenty within five miles. Beautiful to see the thunderheads lighting up internally at night.

I took a walk over the mountain to Brown Bay to hunt lionfish.... and got ten! Another couple may have died from wounds, but the spear was too dulled by hitting the bottom to fully pierce them. Two days later I returned for the remaining fish and killed three of four (could not find the fourth). I love hunting lionfish: useful and applauded work that helps preserve the health of the reefs! And a very good reason to spend time in the water.

I found a very odd thing in the water being fed upon by a conch and several 3.5" gastropods. It looked like a pile of cream colored knitting, but on close examination is likely a cluster of eggs, probably already hatched. Each is about half the size of a watermelon seed. I placed some in my velcro pocket to bring home, but found it empty when I walked onto shore an hour later: the sample probably floated out when I stowed a cork marker for the lionfish.

Peter invited me over to fish when the last of his mahi mahi got spoiled. He pulled up the largest snapper he had caught on his mooring.... then I pulled in a black tip shark (which we released)... and then a tarpon that leaped twice and shook the hook from its mouth. A fillet of the snapper made a delicious dinner for us an hour later and I cooked the head for a large lunch for myself the next day.

I found upon inspection that one of the chainplates on the aft stays has a hairline crack.

 And when I used it as a pry bar the hairline crack opened up more:

It probably would have broken within the next couple years (even before I carelessly cracked it a bit), so I've ordered new ones. I could have gone to St Thomas and gotten some decent replacements at the cost of $80 each and several hours (or made my own for $80 total), but can get far better ones made up in the states for $110 each and delivered to me. Still a bit tempting to DIY as I like working metal, but the new ones should arrive in a week.

Some new bedding arrived, but is a bit too firm, so have ordered a softer topper. Without good sleep life sucks, so it is worth the time, effort, and $ to get it right! At least the blackout curtains around my cockpit keep the shore lights off me at night so I can watch the beautiful starry night sky when heat makes the cabin uncomfortable.

I climbed the mast yesterday (again) to remove some old rusting steel parts on a spreader and pull a cable that often tangles the sail and seems useless. I scraped bushels of oyster shells from the bottom of the boat. Hatches are leaking as are deck fittings. One LED strip died from moisture condensation or leakage. I AM going to finally tackle the engine, but first need to get the instrument panel fixed and install a coolant overflow tank. My list is endless! Get a sailboat and you will never have nothing to do!

Well, I suppose I will get started.... or take a brief nap and THEN get started.

Wrapping up in Cape Cod, preparing to head south.

The boats are out of the water: Andrew's Hobie on his trailer, the Rhodes 19 on Cynthia's spare one.

This was the first time that I removed the boats from the water without the help of the primary owner or a pro, but Cynthia and I did just fine and found it very satisfying... then found a deep puddle to drive through to rinse her car.

So much to do this winter on both boats: replace a connection point high on the mast of the Hobie, a long list of broken or stuck or loose bits on the Rhodes. Frankly, I am looking forward to working on both of them, but don't have the time now. I'll wait until after Thanksgiving when I am back here.

Yesterday we finished wrapping the Rhodes, bought 12lbs of cranberries at a roadside stand, then walked in the dunes near Provincetown and picked another 4.5lbs of wild cranberries! They look a bit smaller than the commercial berries, but a bit riper/darker. Can you spot the difference?

 The dogs delighted in the open dunes, sniffed the bogs in fascination, then competed with us to see if they could eat cranberries from the plants faster than we could pick them: no signs of indigestion so far.

The winds are strong, the skies changed from clear to thunderous in an hour this morning, the leaves are changing color, the mercury has been dropping for weeks so now seldom gets over 65degF... and will get down below 50degF today: fall is here. We waded waist deep a few days ago, important bits eventually and happily becoming numb in the cold cold water, but the few littlenecks we found taste wonderful.

I look forward to warm water, hunting lionfish, sailing in my little home, seeing Cynthia there soon. I already miss my gal and her pups.... as well as fast internet, unlimited inexpensive water, good fresh food, and shellfish.


PS: I wrote the above yesterday, before packing and seining for silversides... and accidentally putting on Cynthia's outfit. Well, these things will happen: at least she found mine old one quite comfortable as well, as you can see:

Now I'm sitting at the JetBlue gate, missing my gal & looking over pictures of our last adventures.... like sailing with Deb and Heather and the pups.

We collected a great quantity of delicious hard apples under a couple trees and Cynthia made them into wonderful apple sauce and hopes apple butter turns out as well. We shall see. I love having the tart tasty spicy sauce (better than commercial!) with no added sugar or the high fructose corn syrup so inescapable in commercial sauces.

 And we took a sunset walk recently with the dogs. They love the cool weather, although they are both learning to use the cool ocean when they get overheated in the summer.

 Ah, good memories! I look forward to creating many more.

Final Maine blog post: sailing in Penobscot Bay!

My folks have loved sailing this bay for over a half century, although they haven't gone sailing here for a decade or so, so when they invited us to join them in a 3-hour cruise on Bufflehead, we jumped at the chance.

This addition to our plans meant we needed to leave Lubec early, in the gray dawn twilight, in order to get to Rockland for the 10:30am charter. We had mostly packed the night before and, with only a little interpersonal flaring, managed to get onto the road and heading south-west, coffee in hand. The drive went uneventfully, other than my losing my google map while trying to get phone service (it turns out that AT&T does not serve Rockland), but used Cynthia's Verizon phone to get us the final quarter-mile. We dropped my folks at the dock, parked the cars, and ran to the boat with no time left on the clock.

No worries! Daniel, the captain, made us feel welcome and relaxed and navigated us out of the industrial harbor with a running commentary than encompassed history, fishing, news, etc. It covered the wooden one-off sailboat we sailed, the lobstermen who worked for harvest or tourists, the cement plant on shore, and people he had met on his boat.

Since his assistant, his 7-year-old daughter, had to stay ashore that day, I got to help raise sails, handle lines, and man the tiller. I loved the simplicity and authenticity of the old wood boat, even to the use of wood blocks with bronze sheaves and securing lines to a board with pegs rather than to cleats. I loved the simplicity and learning ways that one can build more things on a boat rather than needing to depend on manufactured items.

So, we sailed out of the harbor under blue skies, Bufflehead moved beautifully and easily, and the cold water tempered the fall heat to make us comfortable. We sailed out to the traditional first-night anchorage my folk's always used on their charters, said hello to the lighthouse there on the point, and headed back, sipping coffee and enjoying leftover wild blueberry pie Daniel's wife had cooked.

Very, very nice.

Should we be more like dogs?

People say we should be more like dogs, living in the moment, not constantly checking email and logging on to facebook..... but I've seen dogs walking along on a beautiful day stopping at every tree, bush, and rock to check pee-mail.... and occasionally logging on to fece-book.

Enough joking. I DO love the way many dogs adapt to life, the enthusiasm they have for their joys ("YES! Dog food AGAIN! Score!"), the happiness they show when the one(s) they love come home. I love the way they appreciate attention, a loving cheek and ear scratch.

And they always take advantage of a warm sunbeam on a cool day....

Lubec mackerel madness

Buried under multiple blankets and quilts, we sleep well and wake happy & ready for adventures.

We spent most of the day on Campobello Island where we climbed scary rusted stair/ladders,

  crossed slippery rocks to visit a lighthouse,

enjoyed a nice lunch on the porch of a delightful deli,

and the weaker sex took a nap while the other two walked and watched wildlife.

Then we headed back.

After crossing into the USA, we decided to relax and watch the tide, boats, and birds. Cynthia, however, saw something even more interesting: people on a dock casting lines and pulling up STRINGS of fish! She investigated and discovered that these little fish were mackerel and we could catch them each day near high tide.

I had suggested that we NOT bring any toys, including her wonderful collection of fishing gear, so (after an admirable minimum of pointed comments) she visited the Lubec Hardware store (a truly wonderful place!) where she purchased rod, reel, sinkers, and a rig of four lures, all for about $30... and, an hour or so ahead of high tide the next day, had her line in the water.

Once she figured out how to present the lures the only problems were aching wrists and hands. I caught fish. My mom caught fish. Even my dad, using only a drop line, pulled in four fish at a time!

And Cynthia? She refused to stop when she filled a five-gallon bucket, so I brought a bin from the car: we estimate she caught about a hundred fish. Here are a few...

That night we grilled several and found them absolutely delicious. And we stayed up late in the darkness, gutting fish and packing them in ziplocks buried in ice, finally cleaning our frozen fingers and groaning at aching backs and taking hot showers before crawling into bed happy and satisfied.

Of course, when we got home we had fish to process. It took us about three days to fillet, smoke, package, and freeze them all.

Some have already gone into a delicious pâté, a few wonderful salads, gifts to friends, dinner hot from the smoker, and random snacking. Delightful stuff, but SO much work. Maybe next time we will find some more alternatives. One thing I know: Cynthia will be there on the dock most days, fishing with her GOOD equipment, catching buckets of fish, bringing home enough for delicious meals and giving away much to locals. And I'll be by her side, casting and catching, coming home covered in scales, trying recipes, gaining more sweet memories.

I love the intertidal zone!

Given that Lubec has tides as high as twenty-eight feet, huge areas get exposed. Some of these are mud, but most are gravel and sand. The distance from the cottage to the water can be as little as a couple hundred yards... or nearly a mile, depending on the tide. So, on day two, Cynthia and I drove out onto the wet gravel, following the tracks of other cars that clam diggers had driven. We parked a half mile out and dug clams using a spoon, an empty hummus container, and a sharp rock. Not the most effective method, but we still came up with a gallon or two of nice steamer clams. We also found wonderful large sea worms beloved by fishermen (the largest we had ever seen), masses of tiny red and white threadlike worms, eels under rocks, a big stranded jellyfish,

and reefs of blue mussels.

Cool stuff!

After making an anniversary lunch for my folks (rare grilled steak tips sliced thin on a green salad) and taking a nap, Cynthia and I decided to drive my folks far out on the flats for sunset. We opened littlenecks, packed wine, cheese, crackers, etc, and ambushed them when they returned from town.

I think they enjoyed the day as much as we did!

Lubec, Maine!

Every year, my folks rent a cottage on the coast of Maine in a little town of Lubec at the mouth of the Bay of Fundy. Last year I visited them for a few days and this year Cynthia & I joined them for most of a week. Last year I returned with a camera full of photos and a head full of memories and this year exceeded that in all ways. When I think of Lubec, I think of lobstermen trying to make ends meet by pulling crustaceans from fast flowing cold waters, trees clinging to cliff-like shorelines, bogs where pitcher plants and sundews inhabit unfriendly soils, coniferous forests stunted by thin rocky soil and cold winters, blueberries and cranberries growing wild, apples doing the same, tides that can cover a two-story home, and huge intertidal zones full of clams.

We came to visit for the last few days of the two weeks. Once I snagged Cynthia from work at about 10am after her 24hr shift... and we had dropped off the dogs at their second home... and loaded up... we managed to get on the road before noon; Google Maps navigating, Cynthia snoozing, my bottle of coffee at hand. We passed Boston uneventfully, went through New Hampshire as Michael Pollan read "Cooked", and continued into Maine... and more Maine... and more Maine. As darkness fell, we pulled into the driveway in front of the cottage and went inside to find dinner served and wine and cheese waiting. What a nice welcome! After eating and chatting briefly, we inflated our mattress on the deck and fell asleep under the stars, a chilly breeze blowing gently over us.

We woke to masses of Jerusalem artichoke flowers

 and a beautiful view over the meadow,

 ate breakfast, then went out for a nice long walk with my folks at Quoddy Head Park.

 We first walked through the bog trail and noticed sundew carnivorous plants (the ones that look like they have dew on them) that we had not seen in the sphagnum moss last time,

 then dad headed back and the remaining three of us went all the way to Carrying Place Cove on the shore path, a very complex, strenuous, and beautiful route.

After that, if my memory serves, we headed home, took a nice long nap before a delicious dinner, and slept soundly.

There is too much more to write about here, so I'll post more over the next week...

PS: Cynthia took all these photos.