Log for Glissando's  Labor Day Cruise--August 30 - September 4, 2001 (Continued)

Day 4--Sunday, September 2 (Continued)

We picked up the anchor and moved more into the eastern part of the harbor, where several sailboats had been anchored the night before.  Because they had all departed, the cove was now deserted, more or less, giving us a choice of positions.  We still needed to allow for the wind direction to change, as it was more or less blowing out of the northwest, but was scheduled to change back to the prevailing south-southwest later in the day.  We chose a spot that appeared to be in the middle of the deepest part (about 14' at low water) that would give us swinging room.  We dropped the anchor and set it with full reverse; then, we settled in for a relaxing afternoon.

Before long, it started to look like we had anchored too close to a couple submerged ledges at the side of the cove.  I knew they were there, from the chart, and it had looked like we were further away.  As the tide began to ebb, however, I could begin to see the ledges, and they looked a little too close for my comfort.  Because we still had the entire cove to ourselves, we went ahead and raised the anchor again, and repositioned the boat in a better location.  Nothing to it.

It was warm, sunny, and calm--absolutely beautiful.  There was plenty of activity to watch--boats coming and going, and a few boats out for a pleasant daysail.  A pretty little catboat with tanbark sails drifted by--there wasn't really enough wind to call it much else--and its owners appeared to be extremely content and relaxed.

Later, after lunch, it grew warmer, and the wind still hadn't begun to swing around.  I threw the thermometer into the water--about 68°.  Now, to some of you that may seem cold, but to those of us in Maine, it is a gift from heaven--very warm for our waters.

I figured I might as well give swimming a try.  I was astonished to find that once I was in, it was extremely pleasant--so much so, in fact, that I stayed in for 20 minutes or so.  I swam around the boat, played with the anchor line, and scrubbed some minor pollen stains off the waterline.  The water was quite clear on this day as well.  I couldn't convince Heidi to come it...her loss.

After a while, though, I suddenly because quite cold.  I was fine, then--bang--I was cold and uncomfortable.  It took me a while after getting out in order to feel warm again, especially since, almost immediately, the southerly wind came up, rapidly cooling the temperatures.

As we relaxed in the evening, with the sun setting against a backdrop of some neat clouds, I just had to pull out my camera.  I always try to take pictures of interesting sunsets, knowing full well that the camera cannot begin to capture the actual beauty.  It never stops me from trying, however.

Click here to see a series of my sunset photos from Sunday night.

Day 5--Monday, September 3

The day dawned with a milky sky and, yet again, forecasts for southerly winds in the 15-25 knot range.  We seem to be getting more and more of these strong breezes.  While they're not unsafe, they tend to be uncomfortable, especially in the few open stretches of water on the coast.  In the bays, they're OK as long as the boat is reefed.  However, the exit from Quahog Bay is directly into the southerly wind--remember how it was so directly behind us on the way in?  We had no desire to beat or motorsail directly into strong winds, so we departed the anchorage fairly early in the morning.  There was little or no wind yet, so there were no problems heading out.  As we passed by Pole Island again, I raised the main in anticipation of a fair breeze later on.  We powered all the way out, past Orr's and Bailey Islands (connected with a unique cribstone bridge), until we reached Jaquish Island, right off the southern tip of Bailey Island.  At this point, our course changed by nearly 90°, so the wind--although still very light--became fair.  As we passed through the narrow channel inside Little Mark Island, we unrolled the genoa and shut down the engine.  The wind was perfect for a nice sail--about 10-12 knots, and the early morning clouds had passed, leaving clear, sunny skies in their wake.  We sailed into Broad Sound, then gybed and headed down the channel to the east of Whaleboat island.  Our destination, the Goslings, lay not far ahead, and we were in no hurry--it was still mid-morning.  We had an extremely relaxing, slow sail past the island, gybing one more time to head directly for the Goslings.  As soon as we arrived, the wind  began to strengthen in earnest--we had had the best part of the day.

The Goslings was still a hub of activity--it was Labor Day.  I was amazed at the number of moorings here, as it had been years since I was last here.  I expected a half dozen or so, but there were probably 50.  Many were occupied with all variety of boats, most of which we figured would be leaving for home later in the afternoon.  There were plenty of open moorings, so we picked one up.  As soon as we were settled, I got the BBQ going and grilled up some burgers that we had been looking forward to.

The wind continued to strengthen throughout the afternoon, nearing 20 knots.  The anchorage was fairly protected, but there was still a chop and the gusts could be felt.  As we were relaxing in the cockpit, a huge, ugly power yacht approached and, without seeming to slow or hesitate, suddenly picked up the next mooring over from us.  The boat was called Seas the Moment, and was completely out of character with every other boat in the place.  Not only that, but she was way too large for the mooring she was on, often pulling so hard on the pendant that the large mooring ball would completely submerge.  The boat was so long that it frequently drifted over one of the nearby empty moorings as it's top-heavy, shallow-draft design sidled rapidly side to side in the wind.  The boat would not pull properly on a mooring.  I took this "stealth picture" of the ugly thing by peeking around out dodger from the companionway...I didn't want anyone on the boat to think I was impressed with their un-classy craft.

At its worst, the boat was far too close to us, so as soon as we could, we moved to a different mooring.  We had had our eye on one of the moorings up ahead of us, a little closer to the islands, and figured that the boat that was on it when we arrived would soon be leaving.  When they did depart, we powered up and picked up the mooring, almost before the line could hit the water.  (Not quite...)  We were more protected on this mooring, and I felt much better.  Shortly thereafter, Seas the Moment left.  Oh well--I still liked our new mooring better.

As evening approached, nearly all the boats that had been moored nearby were gone, leaving only 5 or 6 of us behind.  The wind, rather than tending to die, actually seemed to strengthen.  Watching some of the boats leave, it was obvious that they were in for wet, uncomfortable rides home.  The forecast called for the wind to blow all night, and into the next day.  That didn't sound too nice.  I suppose I was happier to be on a mooring, rather than anchored, but I still didn't know what kind of tackle was on the mooring we chose, and in what condition.  This was to make for an uneasy night for me.

The tide rose during the evening, and by midnight, the wind seemed stronger than ever--and the boat was pitching much more than we have come to expect.  At the Goslings, the most protection is afforded during low tide, when the islands "grow".  At high tide, there is much less land mass, and therefore the chop in the semi-protected harbor grew proportionately.  I was up several times during the night to check on things, and couldn't sleep too well in between.  The boat was riding well, but one can never get complacent.  The full moon was extremely bright, highlighting everything around us.  Of course, the fact that it shone directly through the porthole onto me in the vee berth didn't help my sleep any!

Day 6--Tuesday, September 4

I awoke after a fitful sleep at about 6:00, and got up to check on things.  The wind seemed to have lightened somewhat.  The forecast was still calling for strong winds again today, so I decided to get going.  This was our last day anyway, and there was really no reason to hang around--especially if, in doing so, we guaranteed ourselves a lousy ride home.  Of course, it was directly into the wind.

The wind and seas had lightened appreciably since the overnight, so our t rip wasn't too bad at all. We powered the whole way.  Once we got past the most exposed part--the stretch across Broad Sound--and entered the lee behind Chebeague Island, the seas calmed, and soon it was almost a pleasant trip.  It only took us just over 2 hours to return to Falmouth.  When we got to Basket Island, we had a surprise--a tug and barge heading into the pier at the power plant on Cousins Island, laden with oil to fire the plant.  We had to change our planned course a little in order to avoid getting in the way of the barge, as our normal course takes us on an angled slant across the deepest part of the channel to the plant, in which the barge would of course have to remain.

We were tied to our mooring at PYC by about 8:30, and soon after we were home enjoying hot showers.

What a great cruise!  We were both so relaxed, it took the rest of the week to even begin to get back into the groove of normal life.