Crossings

Location: Isla Mujeres, Yucatan, Mexico

Position: 21 14.574 N 080 44.574 W

Right after we leave the harbor on our way from Marathon to Isla Mujeres several huge dolphins are leaping out of the water playing in our bow wave, bidding us Godspeed on our journey. We take this as a good omen and feel better about our last minute decision to leave.

That is until we get to the Marquesas. The wind has built to 20-25 knots and is forward of beam, making for an uncomfortable ride. We feel like a cork bouncing around in a washing machine in these 8-10 foot waves with a 7 second period. For those of you who don’t understand that, the “period” is the time between one wave top and the next. A longer period makes for a more comfortable ride. When the height of the waves in feet is more than the period in seconds, watch out! The ride gets really bouncy and the boat moves abruptly in every direction, twisting and turning like a bucking bronco. All we can do is wedge ourselves in somewhere and hang on. For the first time ever on Rachel we both get seasick and “call for Huey”.

After we crack off the wind a bit and head more southerly to cross the Gulf Stream the ride becomes more comfortable and we begin to feel better. In the deeper waters of the Florida Strait the waves are a bit further apart and we're on a more comfortable point of sail. We sail across the Gulf Stream toward the coast of Cuba. We skirt the Cuban coast about 20 miles out and continue westward. Some dolphins appear from nowhere and play in our bow wave for a few minutes.

In the afternoon of the third day we are visited by a whole pod of dolphins. These seem to be a much smaller Cuban variety – only about 3-5 feet long. They leap out of the water and frolic around us for an hour or so. So far dolphins have come to visit and play every day of this passage. We decide, again, to take this as a good omen.

The wind decreases as we approach the Yucatan Channel, the narrow passage between Cuba and Mexico. The Gulf Stream runs through here at a pretty good clip and conditions can deteriorate rapidly if the wind picks up. We motor from Cabo San Antonio, Cuba to Isla Mujeres, Mexico in light and variable winds and have a lovely, uneventful, and easy, albeit non-sailing end to our passage.

On arrival, we decide to take a slip at Marina Paraiso for several reasons. The first is that we’re pretty tired and a bit weak from not eating or sleeping much for the past 3 days – we can use a few days free of stress w/ easy access to shore and the marinas hot showers.

The second reason is the marina provides “full service” clearing in for a small fee. We’ve heard from other cruisers that this process can take a day or two of long waits when done without help and that it’s worth the minimal extra cost. Especially with our very limited Spanish.

And last but not least, gale force winds are predicted out of the northwest the next day at dawn. The northwest is the only point of wind from which the anchorage is unprotected and we hear on the local cruisers net that “the bottom is like 3 feet of soft ice cream on top of rock”, meaning that the holding could be better. We have a plan in place for secure anchoring in this sort of bottom, but are reluctant to put it to the test until we’re better rested and better prepared. So we go in to the dock.

Clearing in is uneventful, but from watching the process we’re glad we decided not to try it on our own. It is made readily apparent that we need to work on our language skills if we’re going to be spending time down here.

So here we are sitting on Rachel tied safely in our slip, awaiting the bad weather and looking forward to exploring the town. As we contemplate our crossing, we decide to title this Khronicle ‘Crossings’. We consider all the ‘crossings’ we’ve done to get here: so far we’ve crossed the Florida Straits, the Gulf Stream twice, the Yucatan Channel, a time zone from Eastern to Central time, our eyes while being sick, our fingers hoping we wouldn’t get sick again, our legs while we were on watch in boisterous conditions and needed a pee, our arms trying to keep warm, and our own personal Rubicon, reaching beyond our comfort level to sail here.

We're glad we did it and are looking forward to spending some time on this beautiful island.

Hurry Up And Wait

Location: Marathon, Florida
Position: 24 42.371 N 081 05.706 W

When you live on a boat it’s ALWAYS all about the weather. We’ve spent the last two weeks listening to our weather guy tell us a window is opening. Then we’ve watched it carefully and decided it’s not quite long enough to allow us time to get to Mexico with any safety margin. Here’s how it’s been going:

Morning: Wake up early listen to our weather guy on SSB radio, check the weather on line to get our own take on the weather, chat with our travelling companions to see when we all think might be a good time to leave. This all takes 3 to 4 hours. Then we go shopping.

Note: Shopping definition - walk a mile each way up a LOUD busy road for groceries, hardware, pharmacy, general goods. Walk a mile in the other direction along the same LOUD busy road to the chandlery, dollar store, thrift shop, and book store. We have to make a lot of trips because we can only buy what we can comfortably carry the mile back to the boat. We need to keep our ships stores topped off as we eat and use things so we’re always ready to leave.

Afternoon: Do a few boat jobs, get together with friends, pick their brains about good places to visit in W Caribbean, do any “other direction” shopping we need to do, and check weather again to see how much it’s changed.

Most of the time we see a potential weather window open a few days ahead only to watch it get shorter or disappear altogether.

On Friday, Sun Jan 3rd was starting to look good. On Saturday it still looked good. Ok this is really it, we decided, we’re leaving tomorrow.

Hurry up and wait.

Saturday afternoon we went through the usual routine. We hauled the dinghy onto deck, stowed everything, and prepared meals to be warmed up under way. None of us slept much that night, always tense with the anticipation of an upcoming passage into the unknown, remembering last minute things that need to be done when we get up in the morning.

We were all up before dawn and listened one last time to the weather. Hmm. It was still a window but it had changed a little. We would have to leave and hurry south then dawdle for a day off the coast of Cuba waiting for the seas to die down in the Yucatan Channel. Then we’d have to quickly get across the Yucatan Channel before a really big front came through the Gulf of Mexico on Friday. We got on the radio with our friends. We were ALL ready!!! But after a discussion we decided to wait, it just didn’t feel right. All of us except one boat decided we’d wait for the next window. The one boat took off out of the harbour at 7am. We watched them go, wishing we were going, but glad we weren’t.

Hurry up and wait.

We got the dinghy back into the water and did a few jobs around the boat, feeling a bit glum and out of sorts. Julie decided since we weren’t going (and it was starting to look like another week before we could) she may as well start re-covering the cabin cushions. This project involved making a total mess of the cabin until it was completed, so she decided she might as well do it while we were sitting here waiting. By Monday evening she had all but 2 cushions complete. We got up on Tuesday morning. We were listening to the weather and one of the boats we are travelling with asked some questions about the big front that was scheduled to hit the Yucatan on Friday night right after we would have arrived. It had slowed down – now it wasn’t going to get there until Saturday morning. And the weather in the Florida Straits was looking milder, as well.

Hurry up and wait.

We knew there was going to be yet another discussion with the other boats so the Rachels were talking about it with each other when our new friend Dave called on the VHF at 7am. He and his wife have made the trip several times.

Dave: “You know, I was just looking at the weather and it looks like you have a window”.
Us: “Yeah, we were just discussing that.”
Dave: “You’d have to leave today, this morning”
Us: “Yeah. And we just paid for another week here yesterday, after we decided not to go on Sunday.”

So we chatted with our friends and all agreed we’d have 4 days before the big nasty front reached Isla Mujeres. If we left soon and didn’t dawdle we could make it. We called our weather guy on the SSB radio at his 9am broadcast and he agreed that it looked like a good opportunity. Ok, how long would we all need to be ready?

We were already pretty well stowed, we just needed to get the dinghies back on deck. So we decided to leave at 9:00am, just 45 minutes away! Holy smokes! We looked around the cabin. Sewing machine, fabric, foam, thread, needles, lots of other stuff that was stowed before but isn’t now…sheesh. Mark went on deck and prepared to haul the dinghy. Julie started putting everything away down below. Once everything was put away, out came the gear we’d need for the trip. It was still cold so we’d need foul weather jackets and pants, gloves and wooly caps, not to mention our life jackets and harnesses.

Hurry up and wait.

We set up the salon settee to be our off watch berth since it’s too lumpy to sleep up forward under way – you would spend half your time airborne up there. By 8:55 we were all ready to go. Wow, not enough time to even get nervous. We were really going. We led the way out of the harbour, only 3 of us now, off on the toughest crossing we’ve attempted so far in our Rachel.

So now we’ve got 3 days to hurry up and get there before the nasty front, and three days to wait until we get there to see what it’s like.

Connections

Location: Marathon, Florida

Position: 24 42.371 N 081 05.706 W

Well, the decision’s been made. We’ll sail from the Florida Keys to Isla Mujeres, Mexico whenever we get a decent weather window. We’re excited and a bit nervous. Our route will take us around Key West, past the Marquesas and the Dry Tortugas, south across the Gulf Stream to within 20 miles of the Cuban coast, then around the western end of Cuba, across the Gulf Stream again (it’s named the Yucatan Current here) and over to the eastern tip of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isla_Mujeres).

It’s a trickier trip than we usually do and we want to wait for fairly settled weather. We thought we may be leaving tomorrow but now it looks like maybe Sunday. Or next week. We are all provisioned and ready to go - we just have to stock back up on the foods we are eating and wait.

We left Miami just over a week ago in a flotilla of 5 boats. Four of us will travel together to Mexico and the fifth will spend the winter in Marathon. The trip took 2 full days travelling along the southern shore of the Florida Keys and was one of our best sailing trips yet. For both days we had 20-25 knot winds and because it was coming from the NW, the islands kept the seas from getting too high. For you non-sailors this is like having your cake and eating it too. We sailed, with no engine, for the entire 2 days. It was fun but COLD. I know you have no sympathy for us – you who are sitting there with snow on the ground thinking we are a pair or wimps. But!! Don’t forget even though the temperature was in the 50s F we were sitting outside all day with 20-25 knot winds blowing right on us. It’s not like sitting inside. We had our hats and gloves on, our jackets, foul weather trousers and …… our slippers. Still it was a great couple of days. It was very similar to sailing in Maine what with dodging the crab pots and the cold weather – except Maine was warmer!

At the end of December our cell phone will be disconnected and we’ll be back to staying in touch via ham radio. The radio is a godsend: using it we can send and receive small emails, download weather, and make calls around the world to friends that have ham radios. Occasionally we’ll have Internet access, so we’re able to use that to call our families, too.

Several of our boating friends have already headed over to the Bahamas and we’ve been staying in touch using our radio. There are a couple of “nets” in the mornings where we all check in and share our locations. During these nets we can hail friends and, after moving off the net frequency, we can have a nice chat. We have also set up some times and frequencies that we listen to and chat on in the evening, if we aren’t too busy socializing (and neither are they).

We are living a very simple life with few modern conveniences and our radio is our lifeline to civilization. Usually after dinner we turn on the radio and set it to our designated frequency. We either listen to see if any of our friends call, or we will initiate a call to them. Sometimes there’s a lot of crackling and interference and it’s hard to hear but other times it is as clear as day. We are reminded of our grandparents and parents sitting around the crackling ‘wireless’ listening to news and drama.

As we all are now heading in different directions this is our only way to stay in touch until we see each other again. This could be 6 months, a year or 2 years from now. However long it is, it’s already too long! We’re feeling a bit sad as we prepare to put more distance between us and our friends and families. We miss them, but we’re also looking forward to new experiences. We’re glad we’ll be traveling with some old friends and, as always, we’re sure we’ll be making new friends along the way. And we get to learn Spanish! “Ay caramba!!”

Khronicles – Keeping Kith & Kin Konnected!

Motivation

Location: Miami Beach, Florida
Position: 25 47.244 N 080 09.384 W

For some reason we just haven’t been feeling particularly creative or motivated Khronicle-wise lately. We’ve been busy moving south and getting Rachel and ourselves ready to go. We decided about three weeks ago to head to the Western Caribbean this winter. We’ll be going from Miami down to Boot Key Harbor / Marathon, Florida. We’ll stick around there waiting for weather and, when the time seems right, cross the Gulf of Mexico westward to Isla Majeras (Mark says “That translates to ‘The Island of Women’!!”) off the Eastern tip of the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico.

The current plan is to hang out there a bit then work our way down the Mexican coast to Belize.

Our “week” in Vero Beach, Florida turned into eleven days. Our “few days" in Miami Beach, Florida has turned into a week so far with more to go. We have begged, borrowed and purchased cruising guides, charts and courtesy flags for all the countries we know, think, or there is even a possibility we may go to. We have worked on Rachel to prepare her for a long period away from spare parts. We’ve stocked her to the bursting point with food items that we may or may not be able to get. And then there’s the wine!!!

So it’s not that we haven’t been busy. Of course, along with making tracks down the east coast of the US we’ve also been visiting old friends and making new ones. We know we say this often but hanging out with friends is one of our favorite parts of the cruising lifestyle.

All that being said, Miami (spelled backwards it’s “I maim” – go figure) is a great place to sit at anchor. Easy shore access, easy provisioning and lots to do.

Mark: “Think ‘South Beach’”.

Julie: Whack!!

Mark: “Ow! Whaaat??”

And to top it off a friend just turned us on to this fantastic little Cuban restaurant over there that does breakfast for $3.65 – and that includes the coffee!

Miami is the farthest south on the east coast of the US we’ve been in Rachel, so we’re looking forward to seeing and experiencing new places and meeting new people. Once we get on our way again we’re sure we’ll be motivated to share our experiences with you all. Honest!


Mark & Julie
s/v Rachel

http://svRachel.blogspot.com

Snails on a Turtle

Location: West Hartford, Connecticut
Position: N 41 47.06 W 072 45.66

Rachel is in a slip in Isle of Palms, South Carolina and we’re in a rental car driving up to Connecticut. Headed up the interstate highway at 70 mph we find ourselves reflecting on the differences between travelling by land and by sea. We just spent over two months getting Rachel from New England down to South Carolina, and now we’ll be making the return trip in 15 hours.

As we speed north in our rental car we recall looking out from Rachel’s cockpit at turtles sitting on rocks and logs, plopping into the water as we passed by along the Waccamaw and Pasquatank Rivers. From the car, even if there were turtles, we wouldn’t be able to see them at the speed we’re travelling. It’s all relative….

Q: What did the snail say when it was riding on the turtle?

As we cross the narrow, tame, and shallow upper Cape Fear River in North Carolina we remember the morning we sailed down its lower reaches. It’s turbulence and fast moving current created eddies and whirlpools as we sped along at 7.2 knots (just over 8 mph).

A: “Wheeeee!!”

Passing a sign that points the way to Wrightsville Beach we remember the huge dolphin that swam up to play in our bow wave as we sailed down from Beaufort, North Carolina (pronounced “bow-furt”). His nose reached out beyond Rachel’s bowsprit while his tail was right next to her hull, probably around 7 feet long. Julie spent the longest time standing on the bowsprit watching him. He kept looking up at her, too, as he swam and played.

We pass another sign telling us we’re entering the Pamlico Sound Watershed. It’s sunny, warm, and still here. Far different from the day we left Ocracoke Island bound for Oriental in the blowing rain. We had to clear the shallow Ocracoke entrance channel directly to windward, pounding into the waves and taking green Pamlico Sound water over the bow.

Driving over the upper reaches of the Potomac River, upstream from Washington, DC we see a river that, if navigable at all, would require a canoe or kayak to weave between the shallow rocks. We are reminded of one of our problem spots on the Chesapeake. The Potomac River flowing into the Bay causes a lot of turbulence and steep, choppy waves, especially when the wind opposes the ebbing tide. This is where the wooden dinghy we built in our basement first broke during a night passage to Mobjack Bay. Different, but just as scary as the political turbulence in the US Capital. Hmm. On second thought, maybe the Potomac isn’t so bad as all that ….

We cross the Delaware Bay Bridge (paying one of many annoying tolls along the way) and remember our glorious sail up the Delaware Bay and through the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal to the Sassafrass River on the Chesapeake Bay with the wind and tide in our favor all day.

Along the New Jersey Turnpike and Garden State Throughway our sightseeing is interrupted by toll booths, large trucks, and annoying drivers. How different it is rushing along in this semi-organized chaos than when we sailed past Atlantic City on that lovely moonlit night! Silently rocking along looking at the giant wind generators, all the lights from the tall buildings, and watching Harrah’s of Atlantic City become a building-sized video screen (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzkrbnByY-k&feature=related).

We pass New York City, looking at the tall buildings in the distance. From here in a car you can’t really even see the City – certainly not as intimately as we did from Rachel’s deck as we sailed the East and Hudson Rivers.

One thing we have been pleased to notice as we continue to travel north is the awesome colors of the autumn leaves. The leaves have turned since we left New England a couple of months ago. The reds, yellows, and oranges become ever more vibrant as we approach New England. Lately, most of the scenery we’ve seen from Rachel has been cypress swamps and marsh grass – different, and every bit as beautiful in their own ways – but these New England autumn colors … wow!

Woven throughout all of this are thoughts of old friends with whom we travelled, new friends we made along the way, and friends we haven’t seen in a while who are either behind or ahead of us in our travels. These friends, the ones we haven’t yet met, and the moments of solitude we enjoy - whether alone during a solitary night watch or together like we are most of the rest of the time - are the real highlights of our life aboard and are precious to us.

All in all we agree that we prefer travelling on Rachel over travelling by car. We have more time to think, to look, to consider, to relate. You know that whole “it’s not the destination, it’s the trip” thing? Well, it’s true. At least for us. Some may look on our life as slow and boring – “how can you stand to sail all day and only travel the same distance you can in less than an hour in a car?” We actually like – really, really like - being “snails on a turtle” and can’t wait to get back aboard Rachel to resume our slow passage further south.

“Wheeeee!!”

Catching Up With Friends

Location: Broad Creek, near Oriental, NC
Position: N 35 05.446 W 076 37.960


Okay, we’re finally getting sick of being over a month behind in our Khronicles (“It’s about time!” you say). Therefore, we’re going to subject you to yet another round of playing “catch up” as we flounder our way back to the present.

We last left you in Port Jefferson, NY, following our hair-raising escape from “no show” hurricane Danny. After spending a couple of days in Port Jefferson it was time to head down through New York City. You may recall that on our way north in the spring we wished our friend Carter, who lives in New York City, could have been with us. We called and were happy to learn that she was available. She caught the train to Port Jefferson, spent the night on Rachel, and gave us a personal guided tour as we traversed the East and Hudson Rivers through the city the next day. She left us at Atlantic Highlands, NJ where she caught the high speed ferry back home. Thanks, Carter, it was a great day!

We spent a couple of days in Atlantic Highlands wandering round the back streets and old neighborhoods. Stocking up on groceries and diminishing the laundry pile were high priorities, both of which we managed to accomplish.

The weather forecasters said it was time to leave so we sailed and motor-sailed overnight down the New Jersey coast in light winds and caught the tide all the way up the Delaware Bay and through the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal into the Chesapeake Bay. We travelled a total of 200 miles in 32 hours, another great trip. We anchored in the Sassafras River in the northern part of the Chesapeake Bay for the night, then headed further down the Chesapeake.

We stopped to see friends who were near Baltimore repowering their boat (putting in a new engine for you landlubbers). We ended up staying there for 2 weeks thanks to the generosity of their friend who let us use a slip. Our time was spent busily sanding, epoxying, replacing the genoa tracks, painting and varnishing the shower, and generally improving our Rachel. Thanks, Ken!

During the third weekend in September we attended another SSCA gam, this one in the Rhode River near Annapolis. Following that we cruised a little with friends then visited our old stomping grounds in Deltaville, Virginia. As always, we were looking forward to seeing friends there in our old “home port”. We also picked up our mail and managed to get invited to a lovely dinner. Thanks, Jon and Anne!

Now it was getting colder - time to start heading south in earnest! We headed south via the Dismal Swamp, one of our favorite parts of our trip north in the spring. The only problem with traversing the Dismal Swamp is that sometimes it is not deep enough for our 6 foot draft. Some friends on another boat told us they’d seen depths of “nothing less than 7.5 feet” a week or so before, so we decided to give it a go. After several bumps and a bit of plowing, we made it through and headed down the Pasquotank River to Elizabeth City. We really liked this town on our way north and certainly enjoyed it again this trip. We got to see the local high school’s homecoming parade and attend the free “Rose Buddies” wine and cheese social our first night there. Thanks, Elizabeth City!

We left Elizabeth City and, in company with two other boats, had one of our best sails of the year (though it was a bit chilly and overcast) to the town of Manteo on Roanoke Island. We’d hoped to spend a couple of days there, but the weather forecasters gave us one good day followed by several lousy ones. We decided that passing through the shallow channels around Roanoke Island and Roanoke Inlet in fair weather was far preferable to doing it boisterous conditions, so we left at dawn the next morning. Sixty miles later we anchored in Silver Lake at Ocracoke Island in North Carolina’s beautiful Outer Banks.

We’d been hearing about how wonderful Ocracoke is for years, but this was our first chance to see and experience it in person. It’s a beautiful island that is mostly national seashore. The small town of Ocracoke on Silver Lake consists of many small lanes with a generous sprinkling of cottages and small shops. We spent many hours wandering around in town and on the beach, nature watching, window shopping, and generally enjoying ourselves in spite of the blustery, rainy weather. Though we’d only planned to spend a couple of days there, our stay was extended to four days by 20-25 knot winds – not that we minded! Thanks, Ocracoke!

Finally catching us up to the present (“And it’s about time!” you say), last Friday we sailed from Ocracoke in 15-20 knots. With the wind on the nose we fought our way out through the short steep waves in the entrance channel at Ocracoke, occasionally taking green water over the bow. After our turn to the west, however, we had a glorious reach across the Pamlico Sound and up the Neuse River toward Oriental (“Aha! I know what a “reach” is!” you say).

Thanks to the generosity of more new friends, we’re staying at a slip here while we wait for the cold weather and yet more strong northerly winds to pass. Even though there’s a frost warning tonight, we’re as snug as can be while our little electric space heater pumps out the BTUs. Thanks, Jerry and Donna!

And now we’re caught back up. We should let you know that we still retain the right to backtrack, tell a few tall tales, and fill in a few details in later Khronicles, but at least we can continue moving the Khronicles forward with clear consciences.

Last, but not least, we wanted to thank you for reading this. Your comments, observations, suggestions, corrections, etc., mean a lot to us. We appreciate you letting us occasionally interrupt your day with our natterings.

Thanks, friends!

Big Bad Bill

Location: Port Jefferson, New York
Position: N 40 57.830 W 073 04.909

Hurricanes are a big deal wherever you live. But if you live on a boat, they can easily (and quite literally) become life changing experiences. We haven’t lived through one on Rachel and have no desire to do so.

So here we are sailing down to Harpswell in Casco Bay, Maine and keeping a close eye on the tropical storm system forming to the east of the Windward Islands in the Caribbean. There’s a family gathering scheduled at which Mark’s dad’s ashes will be sprinkled at his favorite fishing spot in Maine. The prediction is showing that Bill will skirt the coast of Maine within the next few days. Even if the storm passes 50 miles offshore we can look forward to high winds and huge waves. We study the charts and find a potential hurricane hole just inland from Harpswell where we think we can hide if necessary.

A good hurricane hole has all around protection, preferably with high sides (so the winds will skip over you), good water depth (in case huge waves come in and try to bonk you on the bottom), and most of all, good holding for your anchors. When we arrive at Harpswell the first thing we do is go a bit further inland to check out Long Cove. Apart from it not being as deep as we’d like we’re confident it’ll make a fine hurricane hole, so we head back to Harpswell Sound.

When we express our concerns to the locals we’re told “Hurricanes don’t usually hit Maine”. Oh. Okay. Well, our experience further south says that if a hurricane even so much as threatens landfall anywhere near, all the available hurricane holes get filled to (or most often beyond) capacity. When this happens, there’s “no room at the inn” and you could be caught out at the worst possible time. We want to be proactive and make sure Rachel is safe, so we check the updated weather at least twice a day, ready to make tracks for our chosen spot if the worst should appear imminent. So far, the forecasts still show Hurricane Bill skirting right by or over us.

We do not let our worries prevent us from having a great time at the spot in Maine where Mark spent some of the happiest times of his life. (Editors note: that would, of course, be before he met Julie!!). We enjoy many wonderful, happy hours with his family, chatting and reminiscing.

The scattering ceremony is scheduled for Saturday, but unfortunately Bill is scheduled to arrive early Sunday morning. The forecast is for high winds and building seas on Saturday - not the most conducive forecast for a family heading out to a rocky island on a small boat. Still we wait, hoping that, at the last minute, the storm will veer further out to sea and give us a miss.

The Friday forecast shows the storm weakening slightly and heading a little further offshore. Huge sighs of relief all round. After much discussion we decide that the hook of land behind which we lie, just off the old family cottage, will give us enough protection from the predicted 40 mph winds and 10 foot seas - so Rachel stays put.

On Saturday morning Bill slows down a little; enough so that we decide to go on out and say a last goodbye to Mark’s dad, Ken. The rain holds off long enough for us to have a lovely outside gathering and remembrance of Ken’s ‘pretty good life’. Our ride out to the island and back on Mark’s cousin’s son’s lobster boat (wow, that’s a mouthful) is another highlight for Mark – he hasn’t been on one since he was a teenager lobstering with his uncle Ned and the memories come flooding back. Thanks, Chip.

Finally, on Sunday, the rain comes. Fairly high winds and big seas pound the islands to the south and east of us, but Rachel is safe and secure in her anchorage seeing almost no storm-related weather other than the rain. By Tuesday the seas are down and we head further south into Casco Bay to meet our friends on Barefootin’ at Jewell Island, having decided to head back south together.

We have a lovely sail down to Kittery, Maine. When we arrive our friends tell us “Just in case you haven’t had enough excitement yet, another tropical storm named ‘Danny’ has formed and it’s also forecast to head our way.” Crikies.

Danny is predicted to increase to class 2 hurricane strength and clip Cape Cod a glancing blow. Like Bill before him, Danny will run up the coast of New England and also clip the coast of Maine. How close is anybody’s guess. We decide to get moving again to both get south and to minimize our exposure to the storm. Since we’re only 75 miles north of Cape Cod, we decide that if we leave immediately we can get down to Cape Cod, through the canal, and then as far west as we can into Long Island Sound before Danny makes landfall. The further the better, since further west is more out of Danny’s predicted path.

So we haul anchor at 4am and start heading south. We’ve been looking forward to enjoying a nice, relaxing trip south. Yea right!! Not so much. It ain’t gonna happen. Instead, feeling the stress to make good time and stay one step ahead of the storm, we forge ahead. It’s expected to hit Cape Cod head on in three days and we only travel at 6 mph. Yikes!

We get through the Cape Cod Canal in the late afternoon and are thinking we’ll stop and spend the night then continue on the next day.

Once again this will not be so. We check the storm track again and have a discussion with our friends. Danny’s still on track to smash into Cape Cod. It’s 75 miles down Buzzards Bay to the entrance of Long Island Sound and an additional 50 miles to Port Jefferson, New York. That’s 20 hours at 6 knots - and we only have 48 hours left. There’s no time to stop and sleep; we need to keep on moving. We travel through the night, now feeling good that we are making miles west and away from danger. We enter Long Island Sound at first light and make it to Port Jefferson by 5pm. An awesome run! We had the current in our favor the entire 214 mile trip except for the last 6 hours – 6.74 knots average speed for the entire trip! This is a record for us on Rachel. Now all we can do is set the anchor with a lot of chain and try to get some sleep before Danny arrives tomorrow.

As it turns out, Danny loses strength and heads a little further offshore than originally predicted and, once again, we only get some rain and not much wind. We could get frustrated that we’ve made all this effort and the storm has once again changed course, but we don’t. Instead, we’re grateful because it could easily have headed further west and hit us hard. We feel that we have made it to a safe haven and, as we all know, you don’t want to fool around with Mother Nature.

After spending a day resting up and waiting for the winds to die down we reflect on our passage. We‘ve had a lot of stress and a long, fast trip, but the good part is, we’ve also made lots of progress! Now it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump (a mere 250 miles) to get us back to the Chesapeake Bay!

As Mark’s Dad used to sing “Big Bad Bill is Sweet William now.”

Wishing Sweet Williams to us all,

A gem …. or three

Location: Isle of Springs, Maine
Position: N 43 51.830 W 069 40.717

During our sailing about, we like to try and visit places that are a bit off the beaten path. Sometimes these are disappointing, but more often than not it’s been our experience that these spots often have something unique and wonderful to offer us. And every once in a while we come across a real gem. Or three.

We left the Penobscot Bay and headed toward East Boothbay to visit Mark’s cousin – she had lined up a free mooring for us for a few days. As we pulled in to pick up the mooring we noticed a pretty little wooden day sailor on the mooring next to us.

Mark’s cousin’s daughter’s boyfriend (Eben) rows out to welcome us. His dad, Nat Wilson, has loaned us the mooring. Nat is known world-wide as a traditional sail maker. He made the sails for the USS Constitution and many of the old Hereschoff boats (the 3 remaining Buzzards Bay 30s for example) among others. The little boat on the mooring next to us was a 1912 Hereschoff 12.5 they were working on.

Anyway, back to the story. Eben asked us if there was anything we needed and Julie sort of joked that we’d been thinking about putting a third reef in the main sail. He said “Oh. Let’s take a look.” So we raised the sail to the second reef. Then he said “Let’s take it off – I can take it up to the loft, cut the patches this afternoon and sew it up in the morning. It’ll be done tomorrow afternoon.” Wow! We were stunned! We finally found a sail loft that wasn’t going to make us wait three weeks or a month to do the job!

And he was true to his word – the next day we had a third reef in the main – and the quality of the work is top notch. When we went in to pick up the sail Nat showed us around the loft and told us “Feel free to pick up that mooring anytime if it’s open.” What gracious and helpful hosts, and what a gem the Wilson sail loft turned out to be.

After a wonderful visit with Mark’s cousin and family, we left East Boothbay and headed briefly north to the Muscungous Bay and spent the night at Harbor Island. This is yet another beautiful spot in the long string of beautiful spots we’ve discovered in Maine. Another lovely hike around the shore, across the cliffs, and through the woods followed by another delicious dinner on Rachel. We sat in the cockpit having a glass of wine and decided that Harbor Island qualified as another gem. These islands are very similar, pine trees, rocky shores to pick your way around hopping from rock to rock, they are also very different and each enchanting in it’s own way. We have only touched on a few but will save others for another trip.

While we watched the sun set and the sky begin to darken, we noticed two open boats rowing in. Four pairs of oars each, eight people rowing in synch (because there’s not a breath of wind), one on the tiller, one working the lead line, and a few more milling about, they came in and dropped their anchors near us. Upon questioning, we learned that they were Outward Bound boats out for the 4th night of a 12 day voyage. After they settled in they stretched a tarp over a boom and bedded down for the night. The big question we had was “how do they work the toilet issue?”, since there are both girls and boys on each boat, and there’s obviously no room for a proper head. Unfortunately, that question was left unasked, so we may never know.

We hauled anchor in the morning and started south for the Sheepscot River. Julie wanted to see puffins, and puffins we were going to see. As she told some friends “I’m going to make Mark circle Eastern Egg Rock until I see one! However long it takes.” Needless to say, Mark was less than thrilled with this idea. The cruising guide tells us there were 23 nesting pairs there in 2003. We get there and begin our first circle. Wow. Those nesting pairs must have been really busy because there are puffins everywhere! Mark got away with circling the island once, Julie got all puffined up, and we all got to start heading south.

The anchorage off the Sheepscott River at Isle of Springs is on the northeast side of the island, providing excellent protection from the usual southwesterly winds. On the spur of the moment we decided to stop there and go for a walk. What a treat. It was like going back in time.

There’s one truck on the island and it’s only used to pick people up at the dock when they arrive with their luggage and groceries and to take them back when they leave. Other than that it sits idle. The rest of the time everyone uses dock carts. There’s a small ferry provided by the homeowners association, who also owns a lot on a nearby island that’s accessible to the mainland via a bridge. Everyone parks their cars at the lot and catches the ferry to the island. Then they walk. And smile when they pass. They know you’re not from there, because they know everyone who is. But they smile and are gracious, anyway.

The island is crisscrossed with paved paths, wooden boardwalks, gravel walks and woodland trails. It’s not too big, but it’s stunningly beautiful. Smaller, turn of the century cottages are scattered about and there’s a big community hall called “The Casino” next to the tennis courts at the top of the hill.

There was a list on the Casino of who was going to do the Sunday service. The residents take turns – last Sunday the kids did it. We’re sorry we missed that one – bet it was great! There were two pianos there – one was labeled “For General Use” and the other was covered by a sheet. There’s also a phone tree list – if an emergency occurs, everyone is responsible for calling two or three others so everyone gets notified quickly. There are even a fire pond, piping, and fire hose stations scattered around the island. But no stores. If you want to spend money you have to go to the mainland. Cottages are handed down from one generation to the next and only rarely will one be offered for sale.

There’s an honor system library – it used to be the post office until the USPS closed it a few years ago. When you want a book you check it out yourself. Then you’re responsible for returning it in a timely fashion.

After spending an afternoon and the following morning walking around on all the trails, soaking up the sun and the smells and the sounds, we met a woman who was down at the dock with her daughter and her daughter’s friend. The kids were jumping off the dock (10 or 12 feet above the water!), swimming and having a ball. Our new friend told us that her parents own one of the cottages. Then she said something special. She said “My daughter’s experience here is almost identical to my mothers and to mine. It’s wonderful to have such continuity.” Time suddenly slowed. Mark was transported back to his childhood summers in Harpswell. What a wonderful place to be a kid!

Our new friend was intrigued that we live on Rachel and wanted to know all about it. We traded email addresses and she made us promise to come up to “The Farmhouse” for drinks next time we visit. We assured her we’d be back and are looking forward to returning the next time we come back to Maine. Having added this little gem to our collection, we take our leave, looking forward to discovering the next one.

Fair winds,

Reaching

Location: Winter Harbor, Vinalhaven, Maine
Position: N 44 05.736 W 068 49.118

We love sailing. On Rachel we especially love reaching.

For you non-sailors: Imagine looking down at the boat from the top of the mast and thinking of it like a clock face. The bow is at 12 o’clock and the stern is at 6 o’clock. If the wind is coming from 2 o’clock (or 10 o’clock), it’s called a “close reach”. If it’s coming from 3 o’clock (or 9 o’clock) it’s called a “beam reach”, and if it’s coming from 4 o’clock (or 8 o’clock) it’s called a “broad reach”. These are Rachel’s fastest and most comfortable points of sail. We’ll sail on a reach every chance we get – even if it means going a bit out of our way.

There’s a well known channel between Deer Island and the mainland named the “Eggemoggin Reach”. It runs NW to SE and, since the prevailing winds are out of the SW, you are able to “reach” in either direction for a glorious sail. Mark has been wanting to sail the Eggemoggin Reach since we began sailing “just because”. It’s something we’ve really been looking forward to and we’re finally here!

Here are the log entries from our two trips (up west and down east) on the Eggemoggin Reach:

28 July – Finally on the Eggemoggin Reach. Unfortunately there’s no wind, so we’re motoring with just the main up.

3 August – No wind – motored the length of the Eggemogin Reach. Again.

Sigh…..

It hasn’t been all fog and no wind, however. We’re sitting here in Rachel’s cockpit after a wonderful sunny day of sailing (yes, sailing!!) through Merchants Row and East Penobscott Bay. We look out at the world around us. Two schooners – the “Nathaniel Bowditch” and the “Liberty Chimes” are sharing the anchorage with us. They’re gorgeous.

One thing about Maine – there are a whole lot of really beautiful boats up here. Old wooden sailing dinghies, schooners, ketches, yawls, sloops, runabouts, trawlers, lobster boats, you name it. We figure with only a few months of sailing season, the rest of the year can be used for doing stuff like varnishing. Whatever the reason, it’s always fun to look at all the boats

There’s absolutely nothing like a sunny day in Maine – crisp and clear as far as the eye can see. Blue skies with small, fluffy white clouds, evergreen covered cliffs, green water, and waves breaking on the rocks. The smells of balsam and the sea. Warm sunlight drying out the dampness in the boat and making us drowsy. It just doesn’t get any better than this, and the foggy, rainy, windless days make the sunny ones like this all the more precious and wonderful.

Happy to be here,

Mainly Maine

Location: Frenchboro, Long Island, ME
Position: N 44 07.472 W 068 21.653

One of the wonderful things about Maine is you never know what to expect. When you wake up in the morning you could find a thick fog or, just as likely, a glorious sunny morning with the water twinkling and the trees backlit with the rising sun. You plan to travel and it could be thick fog, or it could be a glorious sunny day with perfect wind for sailing. You plan to go for a hike up a mountain and it could be such thick fog you can’t see the next tree or it could be a clear sunny day with miles of visibility overlooking small tree covered islands, mountains and seas covered with lobster buoys. That’s why people keep coming back because, like England, on a glorious summer day you just can’t beat it.

We have just spent three days in Long Island, only 6 miles around and 7 miles from the mainland. The only town on the island is named Frenchboro and it is purely a fishing village. People here are friendly, they really seem to like visitors but they do not cater to them. The harbour is small and full of moorings for lobster boats, with a few moorings for visiting cruisers. There was one left when we arrived but, since we prefer to anchor when we can, we left it for the friends we were traveling with. We anchored just outside the harbour in a protected but very currenty channel between two islands.

There is no grocery store. All the islanders must catch the ferry to the mainland for that. No quaint little shops. There is a fuel dock and deli where you can buy from a minimal sandwich selection, lobster, of course, drinks, and deserts. A lovely museum and library, a post office and a one room school with 13 students ranging from kindergarten to 7th grade (5-13 years old). Almost everyone here is a lobster fisherman and the year round population is 43 at last count.

This year another business opened in competition with the sandwich shop. I’m sure that is a big deal and probably caused a little stress in the community. The new café is called Offshore Store and More and is run by Tammy and her husband John, he’s also a lobsterman. The store also sells from a small menu but of course the popular items are the over-stuffed lobster roll (on a homemade roll) and lobster freshly cooked, which they will deliver to your boat, for $4 a pound. We can attest to the fact that both items are utterly delicious!

Frenchboro is like taking a step back in time, kids are all over the one street town playing on bikes, playing in the mud flats at low tide just generally having fun. The ferry only comes 3 times a week, Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday. So if you want to go shopping you have to take the Tuesday ferry and stay overnight on the mainland, do all your shopping, and then return on the Wednesday ferry.

Tammy told us that when school is in the kids all come home for lunch. So whichever mom has not taken the trip to town is ‘the Mom for the Day’. All the kids come to her house for lunch, and again after school until the dads return from lobstering.

We have really enjoyed our time here, although it’s hard to imagine what life is like here in the winter. A few years ago they came up with an incentive programme to get more people to move here. A few families took the offer, but only one family has stayed. In recent years a large plot of land came up for sale and there was talk of subdividing and building houses. The town got together and managed to raise enough money to buy the land for a conservation programme and now over half of the island is in its natural state and covered with wonderful walking trails. The residents are happy with their small, sleepy village, they like tourists and cruisers to come over to visit and are happy to see them but they don’t want their island turned into a tourist mecca, they like it just the way it is…….and so do we!! We will definitely make another stop at Long Island next time we’re in Maine.