Cow Island in the Fog and Rain

Yesterday was another work day for Peter and me. He worked on various tasks (I can't keep track.) down below, and I refiled and re-organized all the manuals into the six binders we have for storing them so that now there is one for the engine, prop, spurs and fuel; one for the generator and charging systems; one for communications and electronics; one for safety and pumps; one for rigging and hardware on deck; and one for household equipment in the galley, bathroom and saloon plus the water heater. We were able to discard duplicstes and a lot of paperwork for things no longer on the boat, so the binders are no longer stuffed to the edge of capacity.

Filing work in progress

At 5:40 p.m., with nearby islands visible only as ghostly outlines of treetops, we left the mooring and navigated through the fog to DiMillo's Marina in Portland. It had rained earlier and nothing had dried because of the 95% humidity, so the wheel was cold and covered with large water drops. We had to put on our foul weather jackets to be outside.

We pulled into DiMillo's at 6:25 p.m. to pick up our friend Enis, who is joining us as crew for the remainder of this summer's trip, and another package. The amount of things being tossed off the boat is not keeping up with the number of things coming on board. Boxes are now stacked in the shower to about three feet and the aft cabin's lower bunk is now 75% covered in boxes. Something must be done! It is too cold a lot of the time to shower outside, and when Shalako returns, he will need a place to sleep.

Enis's wife Ula sent us lots of dried foods and sweets, and Enis brought us bagels for breakfast from Manhattan, where he just finished a conference. 

Enis and Peter have put back the panel over the wiring that goes through the bathroom along the joint of the deck and the hull and are now busy on their computers. 

Enis and Peter at work on their computers with the view of fog through the window

And now, for the weather report: Mostly foggy with less than 3 knots of wind, partial sunshine predicted this afternoon, with a high summer temperature of 66 degrees, with humidity at 91%. Of course, it is usually 5 to 10 degrees colder on the water than on the land. Starting tomorrow, the daytime high temperature is predicted to be 71 and 76 degrees and sunny--still not summer weather in my opinion, but it's an improvement.

Safe Harbor to Portland to Cow Island

When we awoke early--like 6:30!--Wednesday (June 25) in Orrs Cove (Safe Harbor Marina), we found that menhaden were being harvested by the thousands from a small boat quite close to us. The fish had been captured in a seine net and were being hauled up with a net by two men and one of their young sons. Fish can be seen jumping at the surface of the water all day, but we never would have guessed at the abundance. The menhaden are processed into fish meal for animal feed and fish oil rich in Omega-3 fatty acids.

Fishing for menhaden with a seine net

Menhaden being hauled up

At 8 a.m., we were at the fuel dock to fill the diesel tanks, both of which are now clean of bottom debris, and at 9 a.m., we cast off and headed for Portland with minimal wind and calm seas and reached DiMillo's Marina in three and a half hours. It was so calm that we didn't even need to raise the mainsail for stability.

After lunch, I left Peter and Shalako to their own devices and went into town for some cultural experiences. My first stop with the Maine Historical Society Museum, which had various exhibits. An exhibit called "Notorious" had documents including newspaper clippings and letters as well as descriptions pertaining to famous murder cases in Maine, some quite gruesome, as far back as the 17th century. Another featured black and white photographs of Portland in the 1980s when the waterfront was more active with fishing and lobstering boats. A third displayed quilts, mostly in the log cabin pattern, from the 19th century. 

Log cabin quilt made in 1880

Quilt made of silk and satin fabric

Log cabin quilt made in 1870

Log cabin quilt made in 1820

The Historical Society owns and operates tours of the Wadsworth-Longfellow House next door. The Wadsworth-Longfellow House was built in 1785–1786 for General Peleg Wadsworth and Elizabeth Bartlett, maternal grandparents of the poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882). Henry’s younger sister Anne Longfellow Pierce was the last person to live in the house. Widowed at an early age after three years of marriage, Mrs. Pierce lived in the home until her death in 1901. She deliberately kept the house much as it was in Peleg Wadsworth's time. Desiring to preserve it as a memorial to her famous brother and their family, she bequeathed the house and property to the Maine Historical Society. 

The kitchen in the Wadsworth-Longfellow House

Draperies, antique furniture and eclectic wallpaper

Elegant canopy bed

Canopy bed with 18th century quilt

Bedroom decor

The first entirely brick dwelling in Portland, it is the oldest standing brick structure on the Portland peninsula, and the only single-family residence to survive downtown Congress Street’s change from a mixed commercial and residential neighborhood on the edge of town to an urban business district. Originally, it was designed as a two story house in the Federal style of architecture with a gable roof. The Longfellows added today's third story in 1815 to accomodate their large family.

The lush back garden of the Wadsworth-Longfellow House

Peleg and Elizabeth raised ten children in the two-story structure with a pitched roof before retiring to the family farm in Hiram, Maine, in 1807. His daughter Zilpah and her husband Stephen Longfellow IV, a lawyer, were married in the house. Their son, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the second of eight children, was born nearby at the home of an aunt, Stephen's sister, on February 27, 1807. Young Longfellow did not move with his parents to the Wadsworth-Longfellow House until he was eight months old, but spent the next 35 years there and visited often after that. 

After visiting this house, I walked a couple blocks in the Arts District to the Portland Art Museum. The atrium and exhibit rooms are light and airy. The museum's collection includes works by Winslow Homer, Claude Monet, Andrew Wyeth, N.C. Wyeth, Fitz Hugh Lane, Albert Bierstadt, Edward Hopper, Alex Katz, Louise Nevelson, Gilbert Stuart, and John Singer Sergeant. The art of young prize winners using found objects was on display. I particularly liked a colorful sculpture created from discarded fishing gear, plywood, and beach finds, addressing the issue of whale entanglement in fishing equipment.

"Entangled Rights"

After my museum time, I walked to Trader Joe's for provisions. While I was visiting museums, Peter and Shalako had shopped at West Marine and filled a propane tank at a U-Haul facility. A man they met and chatted with on the dock gave them a ride to the Back Cove area. In a series of unfortunate but not devastating events, Peter left his cell phone in the man's car, a shopping bag from West Marine was left behind at U-Haul, and the man forgot to pick up fresh oysters as requested by his wife. As a result, he had to return to the docks, and he brought back Peter's phone. 

Peter called me to ask that I get the Lyft driver who was picking me up with eight bags of groceries to detour to U-Haul for recovery of his shopping bag. My Lyft driver showed up at 6:50, and U-Haul closed at 7:00, so I quickly asked her if it would be possible to add a stop. The young female driver explained that her English wasn't very good. Once again, my Spanish language study came into use, although we did struggle a little. (She couldn't understand "U-Haul.") We made it in time, but the bag could not be located. Probably some street people had found it.

After I put the cold food in the refrigerator, Peter, Shalako and I left the boat to have dinner out. The weather was balmy and many people, particularly young people, were out for the evening. We were the last customers at a restaurant Peter had picked, Crunchy Poke. I loved my build-your-own poke bowl with lettuce instead of rice. Peter and Shalako both ordered dishes with spicy tuna, and they had underestimated how spicy it might be. They drank a lot of water.

When we left the restaurant as the Japanese-speaking owners were cleaning up for the day, we heard some excellent music coming from around the corner. We followed our ears to the jazzy sound and then sat down and enjoyed a few numbers by a band composed of a violinist, a guitarist and a drummer. Before returning to the boat, we stopped for ice cream. It was so rich, I wished I had abstained. And we all agreed that we have not found any ice cream comparable to that from Scottish Highlands Creamery in Oxford, Maryland.

Street musicians in Historic Portland

We went straight to bed upon returning to the boat. I was feeling exhausted, so I asked not to be awaken in the morning. I got up around 8:30 yesterday morning, ready to make omelettes only to find that Shalako and Peter were enjoying bowls of cereal in the pilot house. We sat and enjoyed the nice weather. At one point, Shalako asked me for the time. I told him it was 9:30. He laughed and said to stop joking, as that was the time his Uber was due to take him to the airport. I showed him my phone and a moment or two later he received an alert that the driver was waiting. Accompanied by Peter, Shalako made a mad dash for the street. 

We really enjoyed having him on board. He is a hard-working, quick-learning, reliable crew member and just a delightful person to spend time with. He will be joining us again this summer.

After Shalako's departure, Peter went off to West Marine for a few more supplies, and I walked to the Portland Food Co-Op nearby for a few more provisions. On the way, I stopped to appreciate some of the old brick architecture and charm of the cobblestone streets. 

A late 19th century red-brick building

Boothby Square

Another late 19th century red-brick building

At noon, we cast off in calm conditions and headed away from the hustle and bustle of the small city. We tried anchoring off the northern shore of Great Diamond Island but weren't satisfied with the swing room. We could see that the small island just north of it, Cow Island, had larger mooring balls off the NW shore. A great thing about Maine is that you can pick up private mooring balls if they are not being used. We selected an outer one and settled in. Except for occasional wakes from passing boats, it is quite peaceful here, and the gorgeous colors of the sunset last night took at least half an hour to go through changing stages.

The sun setting

The last of the sunset

A few minutes after the sun set

The colors becoming pale

Only one of the dozen mooring balls had a boat on it, but, when the sun was still above the horizon, a sailboat came gliding in and, wouldn't you know it, we had taken its mooring. They waited for us to cast off and suggested the next ball south, where we remain now. 

It has been a sunny day with temperatures in the 60s. We have busy doing various jobs. Peter has worked on electrical stuff and puzzled about why the middle bilge pump stopped operating a couple days ago. I did a load of laundry, organized the pantry and the two parts of the refrigerator so that I can more easily find things in the deep recesses, and sewed chafe covers on the blocks for the running back stays. Just before noon, Peter hailed a small pleasure boat picking up lobsters nearby. On board was a dad, his two daughters and two of their friends. Going out lobstering is a type of Maine play date, he told us. Peter asked if he could buy a lobster. The man told us that, unfortunately, we could not because he was renting the pots and the deal was he could only give them away to family and friends. He deemed us friendly, though, and gave one to Peter. In exchange, I gave the four girls necklaces with sea-themed charms, which delighted them.

Four girls with their necklaces

The dad thanking us for the trade

Peter steamed his lobster in his smoker. We don't have a pot large enough for boiling lobster. He enjoyed it with butter and a side of garlic bread. I had a quesadilla--anything cheesy works for me.

Peter's lobster

Peter ready to eat his lobster

And now for the Maine coast weather synopsis: The weather cycles through two or three days of sunshine and relative warmth (with the freak heat wave a couple days ago) when we can wear shorts and t-shirts (or even a swimsuit during the middle of the day) and open the hatches; then it becomes overcast and chilly, when we are back to long pants, long-sleeve shirts and fleece jackets, all the hatches are closed, the heat gets turned on intermittently, and we cover ourselves with a summer weight quilt and one or two fleece blankets in bed. One night even called for a hot water bottle! And it changes quickly. Two nights ago I wore a summer nightshirt (the only time so far) and the hatches were open, and the next night I was back to flannel, snuggled under three covers after we used the heat to take the chill out of the air down below. Rain is predicted for tomorrow with a temperature on land of 63 degrees (It is cooler on the water.) and by mid-week, the temperature will be in the mid-70s, which is the average high. I don't think I have been anyplace where winter and summer clothes are needed each week.

Still at Safe Harbor Marina

The work continued today, but Shalako and I took a break in the afternoon to go to the nearby town of Brunswick by taxi. (Other than the Iris cafe, there is nothing around here.) After breakfast, I unflaked the storm jib on the dock and washed it with OxiClean in water, on my knees using a brush. Peter and Shalako had knocked off some of the corrosion on the shackles before, but I found more and used a brush and a paring knife to clean them up more. Parts of some of the grommets fell apart as I worked on them, but at least the shackles swivel more easily now. 

The storm jib on the dock

It was swimsuit weather! The heat wave is real! I put one of mine on to hose down the storm jib. Everytime I use a hose, no matter what the task is, I get wet. Of course, it felt good to get wet today.

Meanwhile, Shalako and Peter pulled the storm mainsail out of the forepeak. After spending about 45 minutes getting the bag zipper open, they ran it up the mast. Other than stains, the two storm sails are in good shape and we know where they are and how to hoist them should the need arise. (This is the first time we have looked at and practiced with them.)

While Peter was in the forepeak, he found other things--like forgotten treasure--not seen or used by us before, including a cushion with hanging storage pouches for the dinghy seat and an insulated soft-sided storage container that fits in the bow. Now, if we could only find the oar locks! 

New (to us) kit in the dinghy

After I was done with cleaning and rinsing the sail, I took the hose to the stern of the boat and cleaned off the transom, which had black stains and rust flecks from my polishing the other day. I also took the opportunity to shower. I love showering on the swim platform, and it was hot enough today that it didn't matter that there was only cold water.

I called Brunswick Taxi, and Shalako and I got ready to go to the Farmer's Market and explore the town, leaving Peter behind to work on electronics and other tasks. By the time we got to the outdoor market area at the grassy, tree-canopied Maine Street Mall, most of the vendors had packed up or were in the process of doing so. We bought some overpriced strawberries from one that was still open, tasted honey at another booth, and bought pastries at another, sitting on a park bench to enjoy them.

Brunswick's Farmers Market

Then we walked to the visitor's center at the train station. We spent some time talking to the person working there, learning about the town and also her family, and acquiring some maps. Shalako, who is going to a big wedding in Minneapolis on Saturday, asked her about a place to get a haircut, and she provided us with options. 

Off we set for the main part of town, stopping along Park Row to visit the historical society's museum. Although it was supposed to be open until 4 p.m., there was a sign on the door saying it had closed early due to the heat. The old brick building, like most buildings here, does not have air conditioning, so we understood. The temperature reading was 93 degrees!

The Pumpkin House on Park Row

Another large house on Park Row

So we continued on down Maine Street and found one of the hair cutting salons the woman had mentioned. The price was reasonable, and a stylist would be available 30 minutes later, so we said we would return and continued our ramble. We reached the Androscoggin River and headed west to find the pedestrian swinging bridge between Brunswick and Topsham, the town across the river. The suspension bridge was built in 1892 to provide employees of the Cabot Manufacturing Company living in Topsham easy and safe passage across the river. It was engineered by John A, Roebling Sons Company, the firm that designed the Brooklyn Bridge and other famous bridges. 

The Cabot Manufacturing Company's huge five-story red bridge building, constructed in 1809, still rises up from the river's edge, although it is now used for other purposes. The Cabot Mill, as it was called, had 235 looms and 9000 spindles in 1857. The company employed 175 people and turned out 50,000 yards of cotton per week. The premises were sold to another manufacturer in 1942, and it ceased being a factory in 1955.

The Androscoggin River with Cabot Mill on the right bank

We came to and crossed the bridge, which is technically not a swinging bridge but a "bouncing bridge." It suffered major damage to the superstructure during a March 1936 flood, when ice and logs slammed into it. However both the steel towers and the suspension cables survived. The Works Progress Administration (WPA) replaced the damaged span and filled in the towers with concrete in 1938.

Brunswick's pedestrian bridge

Then Shalako and I got haircuts, went to the supermarket to get lunch and a few provisions, and called a taxi to bring us back to the marina. We found Peter still working on electronics. There are still so many mysteries about the wiring. Shalako lubricated the storm jib shackles and he and I flaked it and put it in its bag. After that, the admiral (me!) called a meeting to go over what we need to do before we leave at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning for Portland. I have been at the laundry room washing and drying used rags and composing this blog post. Shalako was going to fill the water tanks. The two men were going to put the storm jib in the forepeak and tidy things up down there before getting the dinghy back on deck.

The electrical panel open again; Peter and Shalako at our meeting

I am sitting outside now at 8 p.m. enjoying the coolness of the evening. It's time to make dinner, and maybe we will play a game again this evening.

Work Day Number Three, Safe Harbor Great Island

It has been another busy day for us, and we have not left the marina. NOAA has issued an extreme heat warning! The temperature was in the high 70s today, and tomorrow it may reach 85 degrees. Being from California's Central Valley, we scoff at these warnings. Temperatures in the 70s in Sacramento this time of year would be considered a cold snap. Having experienced so much chilliness over the last month, we found the weather here quite pleasant.

After breakfast, I set to work putting provisions, linens and a few other items in the two lockers in the aft cabin. A few things were discarded, but mostly I was able to create quite a bit of free space by carefully rearranging everything--for the first time since we owned the boat. The smaller locker in the aft cabin is now free for use by crew and guests, as was probably intended. 

Meanwhile, on the dock, Shalako sat on a fender and used a hammer to chip rust off one of the shackles for the sea anchor. As I worked below deck, I could hear the steady click of metal on metal and thought, "Poor Shalako!" It sounded like prison labor. When I took the base of the Ritchie compass on the dock to clean and polish the metal, I heard some grumbling and mention of catching the next plane out of here. I called for Peter, alerting him to a possible desertion of crew. He came on the dock, examined Shalako's work and said a sufficient amount of corrosion had been knocked off and started to put the hardware back together. It was only then that he noticed that the corroded piece was redundant and decided to reconnect everything without it! Peter considered keeping the rusted shackle because, as he says, it might come in handy sometime, but Shalako insisted the confounded piece be trashed. He was much happier soaking the nylon line in vinegar to loosen the rust imbedded in the fibers and then working it through his hands to make the line less stiff.

Shalako working on the sea anchor line

When I had the compass all shiny and bright, I moved on to the stainless steel on the swim scoop on the stern. Meanwhile Peter continued to puzzle about and work on the quadrant, and Shalako was at the helm turning the wheel all the way to starboard and all the way to port over and over as Peter applied lubricant. I was tasked with removing black gunk from the starboard side of the boat halfway between the bow and the chain plates and was pleased that I was easily able to scrape it of with a plastic razor, my new favorite tool. 

The three of us took a break to have lunch at Iris, the cafe at the top of the hill of the boatyard. The food was fantastic, and we had great views of the boatyard and the two-line highway from the pleasant seating on the deck. I left Peter and Shalako there to start another load of laundry--towels and a few odds and ends as well as two pillows that still had stains after being washed yesterday. I took a shower while the first load was in the washer. The marina has attractive and spotlessly clean facilities. 

Back at the boat, Peter and Shalako stuffed all the sea anchor lines and hardware in the bag and stowed it in the forepeak, which has been re-arranged yet again as we pull out sails to check them. Peter devised a contraption to filter the filthy fuel he had drained out of the starboard tank and returned the filtered diesel to the tank. Then he spent some time in the forepeak puzzling about the crazy wiring up there, and I assisted him by turning things off and on at the electrical panel by the nav station. He cleaned some wiring up, but he is still puzzled. 

Peter with his fuel filter

Shalako had picked up the local newspaper in the marina office, and he updated us on all the latest controversy and also shared useful tidbits, such as the fact that only 1-3% of tick bites results in Lyme's disease. It's the possibility, no matter how remote, that worries me.

Shalako keeping himself well-informed

Our next task was getting out the storm jib, hanking it on, attaching a halyard and sheet and raising it. Raising the sail was the easy part. Getting the bag open required a corrosion busting agent, pliers and both men working together to move the zipper. When the sail was out of the bag, we noticed that, off course, all the brass shackles were corroded, so we put in on the dock and the men were able to lubricate them and make them work freely. During our Safety at Sea course a couple weeks ago, we were advised to get out all the sails and gear that are not often (or maybe never) used to check them and become familiar with them. It's a good thing we followed this advise as learning all the parts of the sea anchor or dealing with corrosion in the middle of a storm would be extremely challenging. 

Cleaning up the storm jib shackles

A couple hours before sunset, the cormorants seem to be particularly active diving for fish, popping back up from the water with their meal sticking out both sides of their beaks. With a deft move, they flip the fish into their mouths; you can watch the wriggling fish being swallowed down their long throats. About an hour before sunset, other birds start flying to their roosts, including white gulls and graceful herons. As we were sitting in the back of the boat resting after another day of work, a black-crowned night heron alighted on the railng of our bow and its mate perched on the next boat's bow. 

Black crowned night heron

After this delightful occurrence, we retreated down below and closed up the companionway hatch as pesky mosquitoes come out every evening as the sun goes away for another day. It is a shame, because we miss the twilight, but we are not willing, particularly after just showering, to apply insect repellent in order to spend a bit of time outside as darkness descends. 

Work Day Number Two, Safe Harbor Marina at Harpswell, Maine

It has been another beautiful day to be living on the water, surrounded by tall trees reaching their highest limbs to a blue sky. A flock of sea gulls had come in, and the bright white birds were floating on the water, diving for fish and soaring in the air off the southeast end of Snow Island, near where we were anchored.

Sea gulls on Quahog Bay by Snow Island

After breakfast, we raised the anchor and headed into the Safe Harbor Marina on Sebascodegan Island, also known as Great Island because it it the largest of the islands in Casco Bay. The wind was from the southwest and our bow was going to be pointing south on a face dock, so Peter decided to reverse in to the dock. I drove the boat in reverse until we were close, and the Peter took the wheel and Shalako and I threw lines to the dock hands. 

We got striaght to work. I have spent most of the day doing laundry. The washing machine and dryer are available at no cost, so I used this opportunity to not only clean our clothes but to wash and dry all the sheets and pillow cases and pillow covers on the boat. Having noticed the filthy state of the pillows inside their zippered covers, I decided to wash those also. The machine is large enough to accommodate four pillows at a time, and the second load is ready to go in the dryer and then I will be finished. Then it will be time to make dinner.

Meanwhile, back on the boat, Shalako has been swabbing the deck and cleaning out bilges and assisting Peter as needed. Peter has been down in the lazarette for hours, working on the quadrant, the pistons, the bearings and other things that control the rudder. It has been frustrating work, and Shalako told me that he has heard words that are usually not spoken by Peter.

Work Day on the Boat

The tiny wavelets on the water of Quahog Bay are glistening silver in the sunshine, and as we rest on the water, we are surrounded by islands large and small. Coming right down to the shoreline are tall, straight, dark green conifers interspersed with lighter hued deciduous trees such as oaks and sumacs. As the tide ebbs and flows within its nine foot range, islets and rocks that are hidden beneath the surface of the water  emerge at low tide then disappear again at high tide in the endless cycle. 

Sunlight on the water

Great Island as seen from Mantra near high tide

Today has been devoted to work. Peter and Shalako took a lot of sails, tarps, the sea anchor, fenders and other gear out of the forepeak to gain access to the depth sounder at the bottom of the forepeak. Everything has been spread out on the deck to air and dry in the 70 degree temperatures and light breeze. Shalako removed all the wall panels on the starboard side, and they ran a new wire for the depth sounder inside the hull where it meets the deck. This took a couple hours as threading it through walls and bulkheads was a challenge because of minimal space. Finally, when that was all done, they took a break for lunch.

Peter working on the gear from the forepeak

Tarps, sail bags and other items airing out in the sunshine

Shalako removing the wall panels

Shalako and Peter clamping wires

Wall panels piled up on the bed and the table yet again

Peter splicing wires

In addition to cleaning, I spent the morning and early afternoon making black bean vegetable soup; a pureed soup of sweet potatoes, carrots, bell pepper, onions, garlic and some herbs; and tuna fish salad. In addition to other food I had previously prepared, they had many items on the menu to choose from and decided on tuna fish salad wraps. 

After lunch, I cleaned up the galley. Peter installed the new old depth sounder, with the gush of sea water quickly contained. It works! We will all feel more secure navigating among the hundreds of islands and rocky coastline being able to read the depth on the instruments at the wheel. Knowing the job was successful, they were able to put some of the panels back after pulling some other wires. I went back to cleaning and also peeled off the old and cracked Sundeer decals. In the next couple days, I will polish the sides of the pilot house and Peter will affix the new ones. The boat is looking more spiffy all the time. 

Peter installing the new old depth sounder in the forepeak

It is so peaceful here. Occasionally, a power boat speeding by will interrupt the tranquility. Otherwise, the sound of the water moving against the hull and softly slapping against the dinghy is all we hear.