More of Maine

The blog has returned. Cell phone service is usually minimal to non-existent out on the water among the islands of Maine, and we rely on our phones' hotspots for Internet service, so it has not been possible to publish. (Note: More photos will be added later. I am tired and my laptop is tired.)

On July 30, after a pleasant week-long vacation with my family--minus my dad and the Powell clan and Matthew--as well as Lori, Germán and Elizabeth and friends, in Ocean City, Maryland, Peter, Katya and I drove to JFK in NYC--encountering too much traffic and too many slowdowns. We dropped Katya off for her flight home. Already mentally fatigued from being on the road for hours, we only went as far north as Poughkeepsie, NY, where we stopped for the night. The next morning, the first of August, we continued north along the Taconic Parkway, where the rolling Appalachian mountains and verdant arboreal scenery offered a pleasant change to the monotonous views through the windshield offered up in central New Jersey.

Sherri at the border of Vermont and New York State

After a short time, we reached our goal, Sherri's fiftieth state, Vermont. We stopped in Bennington, where we walked in the historic downtown area; Main Street was pretty quiet and had a lot of empty store fronts. The Bennington Museum offered more visual stimulation. The exhibits feature Vermont history and art, and the highlight is the Grandma Moses collection of paintings. Anna Mary Robertson Moses lived her life in this area near the border with New York, and all of her artwork portrays scenes based on the countryside she knew. Born in Greenwich, New York, in 1860, she died in nearby Hoosick Falls, where she grew up, in 1961. Although always artistically inclined, her early life was spent earning a living, being a farm wife and raising a family. She started work at the age of 12 as a live-in housekeeper and continued in this for 15 years, until she married at the age of 27. 

She started painting in earnest at the age of 78. She sold her landscapes locally for $3-5. In 1938, a New York art collector noticed her artwork in the window of a drugstore and bought all they had and then went to her house and purchased more. The next year, three of her paintings were included in an exhibition entitled "Contemporary Unknown American Painters" at New York's Museum of Modern Art, and the following year she had a solo exhibition in a New York gallery. Gimbel's Department Store featured 50 of her landscapes, and she attended a meet-and-greet event there in November of 1940, offering her baked goods and preserves alongside her paintings. 

Evocative of earlier times, her art has fine details and vivid colors; she dipped her wet brush directly into her tubes of paint. Part of the charm of her landscapes is the lack of formal perspective. The work has a storybook quality. 

Outside the museum, there are six acres of grounds where contemporary sculptures and art can be discovered on the lawn, in the woods and throughout the garden. The George Aiken Wildflower Trail features the native plants that Aiken loved, propagated and promoted for landscaping and the Hawden Woods with indigenous trees. 

Butterfly on coneflower

Sculpture in the woods

Installation in the woods

Installation in the woods

Sculpture on the lawn of the museum

After a picnic lunch in the outdoor pavilion, we drove along the winding roads to see three covered bridges over the Walloomsac River. Inside the structures, the wooden treenails (pronounced trennel in New England)--pegs or pins used in timber framing--can be seen holding these 200+ year old spans together.

Silk Road Bridge

Covered bridge reflected in the water

Treenail construction

Then we drove east through the low mountains to the eastern side of the state and the small city of Brattleboro on the western shore of the placid Connecticut River. It was Sunday and, as in Bennington, everything was very quiet. We had dinner at a restaurant on the banks of the river and watched the sunset before driving across the river (which is the border between Vermont and New Hampshire but within the boundaries of New Hampshire) to a lovely waterfront hotel with views downstream.

Sunset in Brattleboro

Beginning of twilight on the Connecticut River

On Monday, August 1, we drove across New Hampshire and Maine and arrived in Falmouth in the late afternoon. Along the way, we stopped to hike to the South Peak of Cardigan Mountain, reaching large expanses of exposed granite and stunning views of the forested mountains all around after hiking up mica encrusted paths. Since we had forgotten our hiking boots on the boat when leaving for the beach vacation, Peter hiked in boat shoes and I hiked in flip flops! We encountered a plant new to us, Monotropa uniflora, or ghost pipe. It is often mistaken for a fungus. Lacking chlorophyll, this white woodland angiosperm joins in the symbiotic relationship between fungi and the roots of beeches and oaks to get sustenance.

Ghost pipe on the forest floor

View from South Peak of Cardigan Mountain

Peter and Sherri on South Peak

We found that, unsurprisingly, our friend Enis had taken good care of Mantra, and we were happy to see him again. The three of us went out for Thai food and then settled in for the night after Peter and I unpacked. Enis had to work the next day. I made another run for a couple hundred dollars' worth of groceries and Peter got stuff done on the boat. 

On Wednesday morning, August 3, I returned our rental car to the airport in Portland, ME, while Enis and Peter puttered around on the boat. Before noon, having pumped out the holding tank and filled the water tanks at the dock at Handy Boat, we set off and motored to Great Diamond Island, which Enis had explored in our absence. We had lunch al fresco at the Diamond's Edge Restaurant near the dock where we tied up our dinghy. An automobile-free place, the island has good roads (paved and dirt) used by golf carts and bicycles. The community, which has fewer than 100 year-round residents, is called Diamond Cove and occupies the renovated buildings and grounds of Fort McKinley. 

View from the shore of Great Diamond Island

Former barracks of Fort McKinley

Naval mine

Former officers' housing

Enis and Peter on the dinghy leaving Great Diamond Island

Great Diamond Island ferry

Great Diamond Island was first used by people of European descent as an artists' colony, and guests included Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and Harriet Beecher Stowe. The fort was constructed from 1891 to 1907 and was used for training and munitions development and deployment from the Spanish American War through WWII. Strolling around the community, we came upon a large black object on display on a lawn, cut away to reveal a yellow interior and a red cylindrical box. Puzzled, we asked two locals about it and were told it was a naval mine; these had been made there and put in use in the 20th century. We passed the former parade grounds along with former officers' homes and barracks, all being used as residences now. There were quite a few children on bikes and on foot enjoying the summer weather and the safety of this special place. 

At 5 p.m., we pulled up anchor in the cove and sailed with light winds to Cliff Island, where we picked up a mooring ball on the north side of this island and settled in for the night. After a lazy but productive morning the next day, with Peter and Enis both employed in boat improvements, we dropped the mooring line and headed off toward Sequin Island, where we planned to hike and see the light house. No anchoring is allowed because of the power cables in the cove supplying the electricity for the light, so it is necessary to pick up a mooring ball. However, the two outer balls were being used and we would not have had enough swing room and would have ended up on the rocks if we had picked up a ball farther in the v-shaped cove, so we couldn't go on land. 

Peter working on the swim platform shower

Enis splicing line

Approaching Sequin Island

Sequin Island Lighthouse

Small cove on Sequin Island--too little for us!

The wind died by mid-afternoon and we had to use the engine to reach our destination up the Sasanoa River in Campbell Cove in Knubble Bay, where we anchored at 4:30 p.m. in calm waters with a scenic shoreline in five meters of water. We had passed an unusual sailboat in the adjacent harbor which piqued the interest of Peter and Enis, so they launched the kayak and paddled around the Knubble. At 6 p.m., Peter called me to let me know that there was live music at the marina on the shore of Riggs Cove in Georgetown. If they came back to fetch me in the kayak, chances were that we would all get soaked as the water was choppy outside Campbell Cove. I told them to stay and listen for a while and have a beer, and Peter said they would linger for half an hour. Almost two hours later they returned, having enjoyed fantastic sea shanties and overpriced beer.

Live music with unusual instruments

Enis and Peter kayaking

Sherri enjoying planing on the Sasanoa River

The next day we dinghied from Campbell Cove to Bath, mostly northwest along the Sasanoa River to reach the Kennebec River. We spent many hours at the Maine Maritime Museum there. Set on the banks of the river, the property includes the historic Percy and Small Shipyard with five of its original 19th century buildings; a Victorian era shipbuilder's home; New England's largest sculpture--a white, full-size representation of the largest wooden sailing vessel ever built, the 450 ft. six-masted schooner Wyoming; and a small but interesting museum. In addition to shipbuilding and coastal trade, the exhibits in the museum and in other buildings feature a working boat shop and historic small boat shed; lighthouse history; and a two-story building all about lobsters and lobstering. 

Birch bark canoe in the museum

The Donnell House

Display of small wooden boats

Sculpture illustrating the full size of the collier Wyoming

After we stayed until almost closing time, Enis told us that the visit was the longest time he had ever spent at a musuem other than visits to Smithsonian sites in Washington, D.C. He obviously hasn't had the pleasure of extensive traveling with me!

We dinghied over to the town dock in Bath, passing the enormous facilities of Bath Iron Works, where destroyers are built for the U.S. Navy. On the waterfront, the very recently completed replica of the Virginia was on display. The original of this small boat, the first built by English colonists in America, was constructed in 1607-08 by colonists who had arrived in Jamestown, Virgina, in 1607; moved to the Maine coast to start a colony called Popham (now Phippsburg, Maine); and then created this pinnace. They used it to abandon the colony on October 17, 1608, and return to England.

The Virginia

We walked a few blocks along Main Street and decided to have dinner in town at a restaurant advertising live music at 6 p.m. On the patio outside the back of the place we ordered beers and pizza and waited for the entertainment. Shortly after 6, the solo musician arrived and began setting up. Then he sat down to have dinner himself. We asked our server if we had misundertood the time, but she said that most of the musicians didn't start playing at 6 even though the sign indicated music at 6. We were half-way through our pizza before he began playing country music. 

Bath City Hall

 

Peter and Sherri on Main Street in Bath

Sunset on the Sasanoa River

The next day, Saturday, August 6, we pulled up anchor around 10 a.m. and upon reaching open water, sailed for three hours with 6-8 knots of wind to Lewis Cove on Linekin Bay. Our land destination was Boothbay Harbor, but we chose a quieter place for Mantra, drove the dinghy to a public park at the head of the cove and walked the short distance across Spruce Point peninsula, up to the 1000 footbridge built in 1901 to reach town. (The distance around the head of the harbor north of the bridge was insignificant, so we puzzled as to why the bridge was ever built.) It was a good choice of anchorage, because the water at Boothbay Harbor was chock-a-block with boats. On shore, where it was quite hot and humid, we found a lot of restaurants, galleries and gift shops. Quickly we decided on ice cream, which seemed high-priced but the scoops were large and the ice cream was creamy and delicious. Of course, this ruined our appetite for dinner, so after a brief wander around, we walked back to the dinghy and motored out to our boat. All around us, people seemed to be enjoying the water, and we were hot and sticky, so we put on our swimsuits and jumped it. The water was warmer and clearer than expected, without the initial cold shock. Peter commented on the organic material adhering to the hull at the water line, so I got out my hull-cleaning gloves and Enis and I circled the boat to scrub it clean. Treading water and keeping close to the hull while scouring with some pressure was hard but satisfying work. Peter had blown up our float ring while Enis and I were in the water, but by the time I had made two circuits of our 56-foot boat, I was ready to get out of the water. We all showered on the swim platform and relaxed for the rest of the evening. 

Old Opera House in Boothbay Harbor

Historic hotel in Boothbay Harbor

Boothbay Harbor

Sherri and Peter at Lewis Cove, Linekin Bay

Enis jumping in the warm water of Lewis Cove

Peter arose before sunrise the next morning and took a great photo of the dawn and some shots of a dolphin frolicking in the water. We have seen dolphins from time to time as well as seals. We also had our first sighting of black guillemots which have black heads and striking white patches on their black wings in the summer. We have seen them in flight, floating on the water and diving for fish.

Dolphin near our boat in Lewis Cove

Sunrise from Mantra

On Sunday, August 7, we raised anchor from our tranquil spot on the west side of Linekin Bay around 10 a.m. in calm water with 6-8 knots of wind from the SSW. We could feel the ocean swell even before we were in open water. Within a half an hour, the engine was off and we were sailing. As the day progressed, the wind increased to 15-20 knots and the waves rose in height to 5-8 feet with 4-5 second intervals, hitting us on the beam as we headed for Monhegan Island. It was not uncomfortable, but the conditions precluded reading or embroidery or spending any time down below. I should have made sandwiches before we set off, but since I did not, lunch was granola bars, chips and bananas.

Originally planning to sail to Tenant’s Harbor, we decided to go to Monhegan Island, 9 miles offshore. Ferries bring tourists to this place on a regular basis during the summer, and there are 17 miles of hiking trails and wonderful scenery and wildflowers and no automobiles. Unfortunately, sea conditions made anchoring by the island impossible. We hove to just to have lunch and get spars ready for sailing wing and wing, but it was immediately apparent that the boat would be rocking too much, so we headed up and set a course for Matinicus Island to the northeast.

North cove on Matinicus Island

Arriving near 4 p.m., we could see no mooring balls and attempted to anchor in the cozy harbor near the mouth on the north side. After we dropped, we swung precariously close to the rocky shore, and then a local boat motored by and told us that we could not anchor there anyway because the bottom is smooth granite and advised us to pick up a mooring. We were in a quandary, because we could see floats but no balls. The sailboat that arrived just before us said they were on a mooring, but we could not figure it out. Luckily, we were hailed on the radio by someone from shore about picking up a mooring. After misunderstanding the VHF channel number and hearing no one, we finally were able to get on the same channel. We were told we could pick up any white float with a blue stripe and an orange flag and directed to a particular one in six fathoms of water. This was a new system for us. A local fisherman has set down chain across the bottom and attached lines that come to the surface and the floats. There was supposed to be a glass bottle taped to the flag pole, but it was missing, so we puzzled about how we would pay. 

We decided to just have a snack and have a later dinner, so we ate cheese and crackers and grapes. Since the water was calm, we launched the kayak since it is so much easier to do that than launch the dinghy and get the engine and fuel on board it. This allows me the luxury of the center seat and a free ride, as we only have two paddles. We quickly arrived at the rocky beach by the public dock and pulled the boat up on the shore. We checked the dock for a place to pay but found none, so we set off on the dirt road to explore the island. Among the trees, shrubs and wildflowers are nestled modest homes usually surrounded by lobstering gear and lines, spare parts and anything that may be useful sometime in the future. We encountered the group of seven people from the sailboat moored beside us, the ship American Promise used for the Rozalia Project for a Clean Ocean. Four of them are volunteers from the Mars company and the others are crew. We invited them over for drinks, telling them to come over anytime after they saw we had returned in our orange kayak.

Lobstering gear and other items outside homes on Matinicus Island

A lot of lobster pots, lines and floats

One lovely garden

South Cove

Peter, Sherri and Enis in the kayak

We continued walking and had a chat with a local man who had come to the island 30 years ago as a teacher for the one-room schoolhouse, married a local and stayed. He had just retired from teaching; the school closed at the end of the 2021-22 year because there are too few children on the island. They will be ferried to the mainland for school starting in the fall. Now the man works as a sternman on the lobster boats. 

Although we could have ambled along more on the dirt roads of the islands, after a while we believed we had a good sense of the place and paddled back to Mantra. Quickly, Enis prepared an attractive cheese, crackers and cherry tomato tray; I put out grapes and nuts and chips; and Peter found all the cans of beer tucked away in the refrigerator. We could see the guys on American Promise were busy on deck, so we enjoyed the late afternoon conversing, with Peter blowing his conch at sunset. We then noticed that they were having dinner, so I decided to heat soup and make slices of garlic bread quickly, which was a good idea since we would have had the same snack food for lunch and dinner otherwise.

Peter heralding the sunset

The seven arrived as the light was waning, bearing wine, chocolate and wildflowers. They stayed for a couple hours and we talked about their jobs and the work that the project is doing with beach clean-up in the Gulf of Maine. They invited us to join them the next morning at South Cove just around the point. After their departure,Enis washed up the dishes and then we opened the chocolate before going to bed.

The next morning (Monday, August 8), I elected to stay on Mantra and enjoy some quiet time while Peter and Enis joined in the beach clean-up effort. While they were gone for three hours, I cleaned, worked on an embroidery project and wrote.

Seven people in the dinghy from American Promise

Beach clean-up on Matinicus Island

We had to be in Rockland Harbor on Monday morning, and the sunny skies we had enjoyed over the last week had disappeared; a gray gloom hung over the sea. The forecast for the following morning was not good, so we chose not to accompany the boat American Promise to Hurricane Island for the night and then continue on to Rockland the next day. We set a course directly for Rockland. With 14-16 knots of wind from the northeast, we were able to sail on a beam reach at 8-9 knots for three and half hours to reach the harbor. 

Enis and Peter bundled up for cooler temperatures

It was Enis' last night with us, so we went to shore for dinner. It as eerily quiet and the only place open in the downtown area was a brewpub. In the chilly breeze, we walked on to the restaurant Claws. The line to the order window stretched to the street; it was obviously the place to be. Peter and Enis enjoyed lobster rolls while I had a veggie burger as we sat outdoors enjoying the twilight. 

Enis in line at Claws

Sherri, Enis and Peter waiting for meals at Claws in Rockland

Peter and Enis

Enis had planned to get a bus to Portland airport yesterday morning, but the guys from Mars had a rental car arranged to go to the same place at the same time and room for him, so he had a more pleasant experience getting to his flight home. Peter and I spent all of yesterday and most of today on Mantra. 

Yesterday was particularly damp and dreary, but there was just a bit of intermittent light today. We took the dinghy to the town dock and visited the Audubon Puffin Project museum, where we watched the film and then were fortunate enough to listen to the founder of the project, Dr. Stephen Kress (now the director of Audubon's Maine Coast Seabird Sanctuaries), speak for a short while after the film. The project began in 1973 as an effort to restore puffins to historic nesting areas along the coast of Maine. At that time, puffins were only nesting in two locations, Matinicus Rock and Machias Seal Island. Knowing that puffins usually return to reproduce on the same islands where they were hatched, the Audubon Society transported young hatchlings from Great Island in Newfoundland to Eastern Egg Island in Maine (which we missed visiting because Peter had heard Easter Egg Island and could not find that on the chart). Now, nearly 1000 mating pairs are on Maine coastal islands from April to August for reproductive purposes. 

Now we are back on Mantra, where Peter continues to puzzle over and work on the generator. (The last fix, which we believed to be the ultimate solution, was not, alas, the last.) He found a loose wire which caused a eureka moment, but, although that was a problem, it does not appear to be the problem. I have caught up on blog posts and spent hours editing and cropping photographs and sharing them (particulary hundreds of beach vacation photos). 

Tomorrow, regardless of the cloudy weather and the state of the generator, we move eastward along the lovely Maine coast.