Maine trip!

As I imagined living on my boat, I planned on sailing up to the NE coast in late spring, stopping in to Cape Cod, then moving on to Maine. I figured on sailing back south to the Cape and then north to Maine a few times in the summer.... At least Cynthia and I made ONE trip up to Maine!

We set sail after spending the night anchored at Monomoy, about four miles south of Chatham.

The south and of Monomoy is known as a treacherous area (and actually caused the Pilgrims to turn back and head to Plymouth), so I paid close attention to charts, satellite photos, channel markers, and my eyes as we made our way around. The shoals move slowly and the charts have clearly not been updated.... and it didn't help that Cynthia hooked a big bluefish (lifetime best?) as we passed through the narrowest bit. She pulled the first fish aboard,

then quickly hooked a second which bent the hook and escaped.

Several miles out to sea and well away from unsafe water, we relaxed in a gentle breeze that swept us steadily north. Half of the bluefish joined us for dinner after we enjoyed a beautiful sunset.

In the darkness, the occasional lobster buoy tapped it's way along the hull and fell behind and, once, I was startled by a very large sigh nearby....probably a fin whale taking a breath before heading down again. Sparkles in the water, stars in the moonless sky, distant lights on shore.... very peaceful.

Sunrise found us at Stellwagen, a small detour and delay, but one that Cynthia really wanted to try as this is a fabled fishing ground known for it's huge bluefin tuna. She woke, set out her line, and we made our way between other fishing boats and lots of lobster pots. Very crowded, no bites... so we continued north.

Then it hit, the rod bending, the reel singing as the line zipped out even with the drag at maximum. Cynthia tried to get me to do what she needed, but we could not maneuver the boat well with the jib out and the mizzen sheet (the lines holding the mizzen boom) were in the way and, after an eternity of screaming and epithets that probably lasted two minutes, the line parted and the fish and expensive lure departed. Looking about we saw no sign of the fish... but after a few minutes heaved-to saw a small ocean sunfish gently turning in the boat's turbulence. We let the emotions simmer down, assessed damage, and worked to figure out a strategy "for next time". One ought to learn and improve from experience rather than simply grind teeth....

Eventually we made it to Maine where we stopped in to Monhegan Island (artists painting, beautiful hiking, rudder hit a rock in the night even though we were on an assigned mooring),

Isle Au Haut (beautiful hike, clams to dig, solid anchoring overnight, little wild cranberries),

made our way north (sailing near a schooner for a bit)

to Buck Harbor for two nights (comfortable moorings, friendly folks, nice chat with Marina owner John Buck, outdoor showers, great shelter from remnants of hurricane Dorian),

and spent our final night in a little cove in Merchant's Row (good anchorage, incredible numbers of monarch larvae, some softshell clams, and a beautiful place to walk...

but anchor line ended up tangled with lobster pot line in the morning and fisherman came by before we freed it... but was friendly). Then we set course for Cape Cod, planning to get back in time to take Cynthia to catch her flight to Boston. But...

About a day later, motoring along with very limited wind, the engine started revving a bit, perhaps once every ten minutes. I'd read up on this when we had the problem a few days earlier, diagnosed it as a clogged fuel filter, and changed the primary filter.... but now the problem was recurring and the primary filter was clean.... meaning I needed to change the secondary filter. And THIS was beyond my knowledge.

We set sail for shore, for whatever place would be nearest and most convenient. In order to make sure we had enough engine when we really needed it, we ran on sails only, despite the low winds....probably a mistake as I could have called for a tow under my insurance policy once near shore. Still, we sailed toward shore and the closest harbor, Kennebunkport. Once near it, we found their prices high and their port shallow, so continued on a very rough night toward Portland, by morning very much wishing we had simply risked the shoals and paid the price.

As we neared shore, passing Portland toward a promising anchorage and nearby marina, wind died down and so did the waves, Making our way past shoals and islands in blessed peace, tide sweeping us toward our destination, sun rising, we picked up spilled clams from the deck and enjoyed the morning. Dropping anchor, we relaxed and called the marina... and they said they could get us in that morning! We pulled anchor and set sail... then gave up on the light wind and changing current and started the noisy engine and shortly pulled up to their dock.

After a chat with a service manager, he sent Josh out to replace our secondary fuel filter and give me a lesson on how to do it. SO, now I have the tools and know-how to handle a filter change OR handle it if I ever get air in the lines in rough weather or if I run low on diesel. I had also been worried about possible damage to the boat from hitting the rocks at Monhegan Island... and I had a new propeller to install, so Charlie had us lifted out of the water

where we found (to our delight) that we only had a could scrapes on the rudder and no sign of other damage.... and found (to our dismay) that the propeller I had bought was incompatible with my boat. Well, two successes, one failure.... and nothing that has damaged us in any permanent way.

After a night on the hard, we made pancakes with our wild cranberries and some huge commercial ones.

Once the yard guys arrived, we dropped the boat back into the water,

Cynthia (out of time to get to her flight) took a very convenient bus from Portland to Logan airport, and Lucy and I set sail, sorry to leave the delightful marina, new friends, and whimsical signs.

We motored a LOT when the wind failed (most of the day and night), then sailed along under less and less sail as the north-east wind increased as we passed Provincetown. Lucy, nervous as first, relaxed,

although she had trouble standing on three legs to pee. Rough weather!

Partway through the day, my mom called to ask where we were, wondering if the little white dot they espied off Eastham might be us.

Probably, we decided. After a couple minutes she pulled out her binoculars, spotted my brown mizzen sail, and we knew for certain!

By evening, we rounded Monomoy and, at sunset, dropped anchor in my favorite spot, happy that the wind direction made it a sheltered spot. I thought about taking Lucy to shore for a walk, but she seemed quite happy to pee on her astroturf and we went to bed, sailing into Stage Harbor early the next morning.

So... sailing to and from Maine seems to be rougher than I like, so is not something to do several times a summer unless conditions are just right... so NOT on a set schedule. Maine itself was beautiful, but chilly this time of year. The boat works wonderfully for lobster pots, not hooking any lines or buoys, making sailing up there far more relaxing than a normal boat. I think I'd like to do it again. And next time I'd like to go farther east and do lots more hiking... and be there for blueberry season!