Stage Island Harbor, Maine

Stage Island Harbor is a scenic place and we are enjoying our time here even though the boat is rocking constantly. The motion is great for sleeping! Perhaps doctors should prescribe time on a boat for insomniacs.

Peter is getting a lot of work done down in the engine room, again fine-tuning the engine mounts and working on the generator, and I have been painting and reading and doing laundry. There is a small craft advisory until tomorrow, so we are not venturing on until then.

On our way here, Peter spotted the first whale we have seen. Although it was relatively close to us, it only surfaced briefly a couple of times, so we could not make a definite identification of the species, although our Guide to Marine Mammals suggests it was a minke whale.

The entrance to this harbor is narrow and made more challenging by the closely spaced lobster pot buoys in the open water and in the anchorage. I was at the helm, maneuvering for the entrance between two rocky points while trying to avoid the mine field of colorful buoys when a sudden thud pronounced that the cutting device on our propellor had severed a line connected to the pot resting on the bottom. When we arrived, there were more than a dozen boats in the harbor, so we dropped anchor near Cape Island on the more exposed southern end. In a few hours, most of the Sunday day trippers had left and we chose to move to a spot behind the shelter of Stage Island slightly to the north. We had drifted back from where we had dropped the anchor and did know that a buoy was under our stern. A reverberating clunk-clunk alerted us as I pushed the throttle forward, and we immediate cut the engine and dropped the anchor. We could not see a free-floating buoy and assumed one was still beneath us. The water was clear but cold and there was current--not good for free diving, so our only option was to restart the engine and throttle forward again to cut the line. An neon orange and white buoy popped up and drifted away from its pot. We re-anchored and by sunset, Mantra and another sailboat were the only vessels left.

Lobster pot buoys at the entrance to Stage Island Harbor

As we go farther north, the tidal range increases; it is about 10 feet at our current anchorage. At low tide, many of the islands surrounding Stage Island Harbor and neighboring Cape Porpoise Harbor to the southwest are no longer isolated pieces of land but are connected to the each other and the mainland by rocky ledges or vast stretches of sandy beaches. Kelp colonies are exposed and snails and other creatures cling to the granite blocks. It is possible to walk from one small town to another. 

Yesterday, we kayaked in to the beach. Peter went to an abandoned shack on Little Stage Island for shelter from the wind to spray paint a piece of the engine block that he had filed in order to prevent rusting and I roamed the shore barefoot, across vast stretches of fine dark sand and through tidal pools. I was able to walk to Bickford Island and get a view of Goat Island Lighthouse to the southwest and then north as far as Nessler Point. Homes that were far from the water at low tide became waterfront property later in the day at high tide. Some of these properties have wooden ramps or staircases that end in the air at low tide and then disappear in the water at high tide. We saw small boats--lasers or similar craft--gliding across shallow water where I had been walking a few hours before. 

Mantra and another sailboat in Stage Island Harbor

Stage, Cape and Trott Islands on the horizon from the beach

View from the sand toward Nessler Point at low tide

Cape Island from Trott Island at low tide

Snail leaving a trail under an inch of water

Colorful low tide on Trott Island

View from Trott Island showing high tide line on rocks of Stage Island

Life revealed at low tide

Sand and rocks between Trott, Redin and Brickford Islands

View toward Nessler Point at high tide; all sand at low tide

Narrow opening between Little Stage Island and Cape Island at high tide

View toward Bickford Island at high tide; all sand at low tide

While it was shorts and t-shirt weather a week ago in Boston and it is still in the high 70's or low 80's inland here, it is nippy out here on the water, necessitating sweatpants and fleece tops on board for me. (Peter still wears shorts.) 

Now I must prepare lunch. Our supplies of fresh food are runny quite low, and I am stretching them a much as possible and getting inventive with cans of beans, rice and pasta.