Cruising Log for Week 3:  July 28 - August 3, 2002

Sunday 7/28:  Sorrento - Sand Cove (Winter Harbor)  (Rhumb Line Distance:  8.94 nm)  PDF Route Chart  Harbor Detail Chart

Around 0830, we were just gearing up to get going and head down to Winter Harbor, on Schoodic Point, and I had the course all set and was just getting ready to go...when I looked out the hatch and saw that fog had come in, obscuring the outer islands in the bay and Bar Harbor.  Shoot!  We decided to hang back and wait a while, to see what the weather was going to do.  The run to Winter Harbor is short, but we saw no need to leave our comfortable mooring in a beautiful place to head out into the fog.  

Later in the morning, I rowed around a bit, rowing outside the protective islands in Sorrento to see what was going on further down the bay, where we would he heading if we decided to leave.  I could see the fog oozing around the islands, the way it does, particularly through the gap that our course would take us.  It looked like we would end up staying in Sorrento for yet another day, even though we were ready to move on.  We had some other options, including Sullivan (just around the corner and up a little river, but there wasn't much of a harbor there and reportedly a lot of current--even some reversing falls, supposedly), or Flanders Bay, or Stave Island Harbor--none of which offered much in the way of protection, although they are assuredly beautiful.  Again, we decided our comfortable mooring was the better option at the moment.

By 1100 or so, though, the sun started to break through, and I could see that the fog had receded again--no sign of it at all, except some whispies around the Porcupine Islands near Bar Harbor.  Heidi and I decided it was time to give our route a shot, so we readied the boat (not much to do, really) and dropped the mooring at about 1130 and powered south through the bay towards Stave Island and the little inside pass below and amongst the islands outside of Grindstone Neck.  The wind was light to nonexistent for most of the trip, and on the nose for the rest (which was only right at the end anyway...yes, cruising involves a lot of motoring if you want to go anywhere).

As we got further out the bay, I could see some signs of fog further offshore, and I hoped it would stay there for the duration of our trip.  Of course, we were bucking the incoming tide, at about maximum flood, which knocked at least a knot off our speed.  However, the fog did not bother us.  We had an uneventful trip down, the only nervous moments coming when we neared the very narrow cut between Pulpit Rock and Grindstone Neck.  I was a little nervous here because the regular chart for the area did not go into any detail in this area at all--the scale was too small--so I couldn't really consult my chart to see what was upcoming and what the hazards might be.  My Cap'n nav software program featured the large scale chart for the Winter Harbor area, which chart I had used in my planning and would eventually come up on the screen of the computer, which I had hooked into the GPS today just in case the fog did roll back in.  Finally, the software changed the chart over, and I could see enough ahead to allay my worries about the narrow passage.  (It was no problem at all...).  I have to say, this Cap'n software is really excellent...I never rely on it, and don't even normally use if for anything but planning purposes (for which it is  outstanding), but when I do use it, all interfaced with the GPS, it just amazes me to see my little ship icon right on the NOAA chart on the screen.  As long as everything continues working, you'd have to be an idiot to get lost in the fog with this at your disposal.  Way cool.  For practice and familiarization, I also had the radar on today.

Along the way, some minor fog did roll in and out, tending to stay high and roll over the nearby islands, but leaving the tops of the mountains of Mount Desert visible in the distance.  Cool stuff.

We arrived in Sand Cove and picked up a guest mooring at the Winter Harbor Yacht Club at around 1335, after a pleasantly uneventful trip.  The sun even came out once we arrived, which really warmed things up.  The scenery was beautiful, but we were saddened to discover that WHYC charges $2 for the showers.  We declined, since we intend to do an errand/service/cleanup stop in Southwest Harbor tomorrow or the next day at the Hinckley yard anyway.  (As it turned out, we could have snuck the showers probably anyway.)  WHYC has a pretty cool shingled clubhouse right on the steep edge of the harbor, with a beautiful fleet of Winter Harbor 21s, designed in 1921 by Starling Burgess of the J-boat Ranger fame,  moored out front in a multitude of colors.  Beautiful, gaff-rigged sloops.  Later, we briefly went ashore to check out the clubhouse (nice), then returned to the boat for the afternoon.  The fog rolled in and out throughout the afternoon, depending on the wind strength.  It's a pretty place, and I'm sure the town of Winter Harbor, about a mile away by road, is interesting, and if we end up having to stay here an extra day because of a weather delay, we will probably check it out.

Monday 7/29:   Sand Cove (Winter Harbor) Harbor Detail Chart

It turned out to be a miserable night, and we were  very glad for our secure mooring.  It rained and blew quite hard from the south and southwest, creating some wind chop and a slight underlying swell, but not too bad.  Plus it was dark and foggy--and all around unpleasant night outside.  Inside the boat, we were warm and cozy, with the knowledge that we were safe and secure.  

The day dawned foggy, so we were in a holding pattern.  Unfortunately, we had not planned on spending more than one night here, so the day felt like a little bit of a waste, somehow.  Certainly it wasn't a bad place to be stuck, but our minds (well, especially mine) were elsewhere.  We had laundry on the mind, you see, and were looking forward to getting clean clothes and some other errands taken care of.  No such luck, it seemed.  Throughout the morning, the fog remained thick--sometimes very thick indeed--and there were intermittent rain showers.  During the early afternoon, though, the sun started breaking through, and the sky became  bright.  We had hopes of a late-day clearing, which would mean that we could head across Frenchman Bay to Southwest Harbor at that time--it was only something like 12 miles, so a late start wouldn't be the end of the world.

I decided that 1500 would have to be our make or break point--we needed to get off the guest mooring one way or another, but didn't want to move and anchor if the weather was going to clear.  Finally, at about 1430, it looked like it was really clearing--I could see the fog moving out to sea, and could begin to see the Schoodic peninsula in the distance.  Excited, we decided to give it a go, and dropped the mooring.  For a while, it looked OK.  Before we got to the end of the harbor, however, out near the lighthouse at the end, it became obvious that the fog was still very thick.  We got within 1/8  mile of the buoy that was our first waypoint, the one at the end of the harbor that marked the spot where we would begin our turn towards Mount Desert, and still couldn't get a visual.  I had the Cap'n software going, the GPS, and the radar, and we were comfortable, but decided that it was silly to continue under these conditions, so we turned around and headed back in.  Besides, there was a good size swell running that would have proved to be uncomfortable or annoying on the crossing, so it was just as well.  We chose a spot inside of the moored boats in the cove near where we had been on the mooring and dropped the anchor without problem.  Later in the evening, it did indeed clear up, and b y 1900 the whole of Schoodic Point was visible.  We hoped for a clear day in the morning so we could get across and continue with our plans.  The night was calm and uneventful, and I was encouraged at a couple points to look out the hatch and see a bright moon in the clear sky.

Tuesday 7/30:  Sand Cove (Winter Harbor) - Southwest Harbor/Manset  (Rhumb Line Distance:  12.5 nm)  PDF Route Chart  Harbor Detail Chart

I awoke before 0600 to find bright sun and clear skies, and no sign of fog.  Great!  I got up immediately and made coffee, then got Heidi going, and by 0630 we were pulling up the anchor and getting ready to go.  There was no wind.  We had the tide going with us on the way out, which was a bonus, and we were looking forward to a fast trip across.  

We got it...no problems on the crossing.  There was still some swell, which rocked the boat around a bit, but otherwise the trip was completely uneventful.  The wind remained calm, and even though we could see fog sitting offshore we had no problems.  In fact, we had a beautiful trip, and soaked in the beautiful scenery that is Frenchman bay.

We arrived in Southwest Harbor at the Hinckley Yard and picked up a mooring at 0915.  Shortly thereafter, we rowed ashore to begin our day of errands and chores.  On the list:  laundry!, food shopping, and hopefully finding access to a phone line for the computer so that I could upload the first two weeks' logs and check some email.  But first, a little reconnaissance and some hot showers for Heidi and I.  I paid for the mooring ($30--yikes!).

After our showers, I rowed back out to the boat alone to pick up the laundry.  (Both machines at Hinckley were empty.)  I filled three tote bags to overflowing with laundry, sheets, and towels and rowed back ashore where Heidi was waiting.  We filled both machines and got things rolling.  Then, we wandered over to the Hinckley Ship's Store where I bought a couple T-shirts and new dog collars.  Then, I inquired at the service office about a computer hookup, and was shown to a little tiny room that I dubbed the "interrogation room" where I could hook in.  Cool!  I rowed back to the boat for the computer, leaving Heidi, once again, watching the laundry.

As I rowed from the boat to the dock with the laptop, it began to rain.  Lovely.  Fortunately, it was only a light shower.  Then, as soon as I stepped onto the dock, I realized that I had left the power cord for the computer on the boat!  Not trusting the batteries in the slightest, I had to row back out for the cord, after leaving the computer with Heidi ashore.  With the cord in my hand, I rowed  back once again.  At this time, I should comment on a couple things.  First, our boat was moored quite a ways from the dock.  Also, there is a ton of boat traffic in the harbor--this place teems with activity.  Some of this traffic creates huge wakes.  Lovely.  My final frustration was that the whole dinghy dock was crammed with these stupid huge inflatables, which take up a lot of room and also create immense friction that immediately stops the forward progress of a small fiberglass dinghy when one of the  inflatables is touched at all.  This made getting up to the dock itself quite a challenge.  Sigh.

Armed with what I needed, I headed for the Interrogation Room, where I spent more than an hour and a half uploading the website (sorry...I put too many pictures in the early logs and they were taking too long to upload, which is why you don't see some of them.  At the end of the cruise, I'll upload everything properly...I promise!) and reading/sending some email.  Boy, I am spoiled at home with my high speed cable modem.  I have no idea what the connection speed actually was, but my phone modem in the laptop is only 56K.  

After waiting too long for photos to upload, and determining that the text and other updates had actually loaded, I cancelled the upload and headed back to the laundry area, where Heidi had been chatting with some nice folks who were doing the same thing.  I heard through the grapevine that a boat had been involved in a bad collision yesterday off  Deer Isle with a lobster boat, and that it was at the yard.  I wandered to the dock and saw the boat, a center cockpit Hinckley 52,  which was in the water and looked OK, except for the plywood patch on the port side near the shrouds and a splintered toerail.  Later, I overheard more information, that the forward bulkhead had been accordioned inside, three people had gone to the hospital, and that the lobster boat apparently came out of the fog at 20 knots and never even slowed down.  This is why we stayed in port in the fog!  Who needs this?

With the laundry finally done--three huge loads--I rowed the stuff back out to the boat in two trips, and then hurriedly rowed back so that Heidi and I could catch the 2:28 free bus from Manset to downtown SW harbor for some shopping.  No problem.  We had nearly two hours to kill in SW Harbor before a return bus, so we had a leisurely ice cream and walked through some of the shops, before doing our grocery shop at Sawyer's Market, a very nice, if expensive, market.  We got some great fish there--tuna and swordfish--that we couldn't wait to grill up in the evening.  Then, we killed a bit of time before boarding the  bus back, arriving back at the boat by about 1645.  Phew...what a day.  We were exhausted, but still had to stow the food and all the laundry.  While working in the cockpit, I noticed a HUGE wake rolling towards us...directly astern.  Geez...isn't there a frigging harbormaster here?  This stuff is unnecessary.   The wake came, and we dipped the taffrail beneath it, scooping water over the poop deck.  Yup...it was big.  

Finally, the loading was done and we relaxed with a well-deserved cocktail or two and the fine, delicious, fish grilled out with fresh asparagus and lots of  garlic, and fresh foccacia.  We crashed early and hard.  The night was calm and clear and warm.

Wednesday 7/31:  Southwest Harbor - Frenchboro, Long Island (Rhumb Line Distance:  9.5 nm)  PDF Route Chart  Harbor Detail Chart

Another glorious morning!  As usual, I was up early to enjoy the ealry morning with coffee and reading.  At about 0815, I rowed ashore with trash and to pick up some ice, then returned to the boat.  After stowing the ice, which involves removing everything from the icebox and then repacking it, we were ready to go.  The wind picked up from the northwest, quite strongly in the harbor, but it looked like it would be the perfect direction for heading to Frenchboro, one of our favorites.  I put the main up with a single reef at the mooring, then we headed out.  A little ways down Western Way, I shut down the engine and rolled out the jib and we had a great sail out the passage, hitting speeds of nearly 7 knots.  We blew by a 37' or so classic yawl and nearly overtook a Gulfstar 44 or something, though on the reach their longer waterline length paid off and we couldn't quite pass them.  As we reached the end of the Western Way, the wind lightened and came forward, but it was still a great sail, with the wind remaining the perfect strength and a little bit off a close beat.  We sailed the whole way out to Frenchboro in sparkling blue seas under a crystal clear sky and bright, warm sun...absolute perfection.  A day to put in the memory banks.  I shook out the reef about halfway there, a decision I regretted a little bit as we neared Frenchboro because the wind became quite strong just before we got there.  No problem, but there was some major weather helm for a few minutes!

With the sails stowed, we motored the short distance into the harbor and picked up one of only a couple remaining moorings at 1130.  Once the boat was put to bed, we rowed ashore for our lobster rolls (they make 'em good here) and peanut  butter cups.  Alas...no peanut butter cups, although we were told there would be more by around 1500 or so.  After lunch, we each got one of the excellent ice cream sandwiches--two fresh (still warm and melty) chocolate chip cookies surrounding a chunk of vanilla ice cream.  Delicious...highly recommended.

With that done, we walked down to the Frenchboro museum at the head of the harbor, always a fun diversion, and chatted for a while with the lady there.  (Surely one of the Lunts...but I didn't ask.)  We returned to the boat for a relaxing afternoon watching the comings and goings of cruising boats, lobster boats, and other small craft--this is a charmingly busy place!  At 1500, I rowed back ashore for peanut butter cups, which weren't even cut yet.   But I waited...and they were good.

Thursday 8/1:  Frenchboro -  Burnt Coat Harbor (Rhumb Line Distance:  3.94 nm)  PDF Route Chart  Harbor Detail Chart

Happy August.

Yup, another shortie.  We thought that Burnt Coat, on the southern side of Swans Island, looked like an interesting place to visit, and there's a neat "backdoor" passage into the harbor from the east--coincidentally, the direction we were approaching from Frenchboro, right across the Southern Approach from the entrance to Burnt Coat.

We had a relaxing morning in Frenchboro, with no rush to leave--after all, the passage promised to be only about an hour or less.  It was another beautiful day--this is so hard to take!  At about 1010, we dropped our mooring and motored out of the harbor through the western side, and proceeded across the bay towards the narrow passage that would lead us into Burnt Coat.  The wind was extremely light, once again, so we motored the whole way.

The inside passage was very cool, and scenic with the bold granite shores ringed with spruce trees.  It was nowhere near as narrow as it appears on the chart, which is a pretty small scale and doesn't show much detail for this route.  One of our cruising guides made it sound simply terrible--go only with local knowledge and on a rising tide, and so on and so forth--the worry-wart cruising guide, I called it.  If all you did was heed the advice of cruising guides, you'd miss out on a lot.  As it was, the passage was quite straightforward with plenty of room, and very much worth it.  At the end, it opened up into beautiful Burnt Coat harbor, which was much nicer than I had anticipated.  I had been here long ago, but had no memories of it.  We thought it was beautiful, and picked up a mooring near the town at 1110. 

After a short while, we rowed ashore and hiked down to the lighthouse on Hockomock Point, a very pleasant walk.  The vistas from the point were extraordinary, and we spent a bit of time just soaking it all in before returning to the boat for lunch.  Then we had a pleasant afternoon on the boat, watching all the activity on the lobster boats as they came in for the day.   There is lots of activity here, and our impression was that Swan's Island lobstermen are hardly starving...a nicer bunch of boats we had hardly ever seen in one place.

The night was calm and clear, as is becoming the norm.  Boy, this is rough living!

Friday 8/2:  Burnt Coat Harbor - Buckle Island Harbor (Rhumb Line Distance:  6.76 nm)  PDF Route Chart  Harbor Detail Chart

It seems that we're managing to knock off most of the harbors on Swan's Island.  Swan's Island has been one of the many surprises of the trip--we've liked it much more than anticipated.  I don't know why there might have been any negative anticipations, but our experiences have been very positive at Burnt Coat and now at Buckle Island.

As you may recall, we bypassed Buckle Island a couple weeks ago in favor of continuing on to Somesville to take advantage of good passage weather.  At the time, it looked interesting, and a couple of cruisers have mentioned that they liked it.  It seemed like a nice place to head after Burnt Coat. 

The morning was mostly clear, but with some cloud banks that would roll through from time to time.  The wind was light.  The lobstermen here get going  very early--0500-0530--so there was no sleeping in.  Once I wake up, that's usually it for me, sleepwise, unless it's a really lousy day out.  So, I got up just after 0600.

By 0830, I was getting ready to leave, and roused Heidi, who always manages to be able to fall back asleep in the mornings.  A breeze was starting to fill in from the south or southeast, which promised to be the perfect direction for our planned run.  At 0900, we raised the main and dropped the mooring, and motorsailed out the main, southern, entrance to Burnt Coat, past the lighthouse on Hockomock Point, and inside a couple of the small, rocky islands that ring the southern side of Swan's Island in Toothacher Bay.  Outside the harbor, the wind was enough for a very pleasant broad reach at about 3.5 knots boatspeed or so--for a while.  However, the wind died before we reached Hat Island on the southwest corner of Swan's, so we had to power for 10 or 15 minutes until the wind filled in again on the other side.  Then, we had a wonderful beam reach at 4-6 knots of speed the rest of the way along the western side of the island, in Jericho Bay, until we reached York Narrows at the northern side--the other channel to the north of Swan's Island that parallels, roughly, Casco Passage.  After dropping the main and rolling the jib, we motored into the harbor inside of Buckle Island to find it nearly empty, with only a big J-boat temporarily anchored and a ghost powerboat on the side of the cove.  (We call it the ghost boat because there was no sign of life whatsoever on board, although the dinghy trailed astern.  Weird.)

We dropped the anchor in 9' of water near the head of the cove at about 1030, an hour or two before low tide, choosing our position carefully to allow us to swing in other directions if the wind shifted.  What a pretty place...lots of bold granite, spruce-ringed islands, and a view of the western side of Mount Desert in the background.  Very pleasant.

With the anchor set, we both got into the dinghy for an exploratory row up past the navigable portion of the harbor--it continues well beyond the deeper water into a very tidal area.  We rowed all around, exploring the various tributaries and inspecting at closed range the barnacle-encrusted granite rocks.  Later, after lunch aboard, we rowed into Buckle Island and walked around some of the paths on the southern end of the island, circumnavigating about half the island.  Maybe tomorrow we'll do the other half.   The interior of the island was remarkably thick with brush and trees, and straying off the path was not an option. 

We found that apparently there are little "Buckle Island Gnomes" who live on the island, building these cute little shelters of mussel shells and moss.  We noticed several of these abodes as we wandered about but, alas, none of the wily little creatures showed their faces.

As we returned to the boat, the sky began to cloud over and the wind picked up a bit, marking the passage of yet another minor cold front.  Late in the afternoon, a pretty wooden yawl--one that we had actually seen the d ay before in Frenchboro--sailed in under full sail (too much for the wind strength).  The yawl was crewed by a young group of enthusiastic, if somewhat reckless, folks--I wondered if it was some sort of sail training thing.  They made quite a show of sailing at a brisk 6 knots under full sail into the narrow harbor, backing their sails and turning the boat around through some pretty tight turns.  (Major showoffs...).  It turned out that the ghost powerboat was their companion of sorts.  With much ado and slatting sails and backing of sail, as well as sailing far closer to the shore and rocks than I would have,  they dropped one person off on the powerboat, then stormed off again with the powerboat following shortly behind.  

The wind got kind of nasty later in the afternoon, and continued through the night--probably 15-20 knots out of the south, with higher gusts.  Hardly a gale, but a fair bit of wind for nighttime nonetheless.  The wind continued through most of the night, making for a somewhat uncomfortable sleep--there were no waves, but the howling gusts don't make for the most restful of conditions.  It was very dark, since there are no shore lights here.  At about 0430 or so, the wind finally died, and a thick fog set in.  It was nice and quiet, and a pleasant change after the noise of the wind overnight.

Saturday 8/3:  Buckle Island  Harbor Detail Chart

I slept in till 0800, a near record for me, since I had been up a bit during the wind of the night.  The thick fog remained in place, along with flat calm conditions, for the bulk of the morning, which didn't bother us since we had pretty much planned on spending the day here anyway.  A relaxing morning ensued, and the fog slowly cleared.  Shortly after an early lunch, the fog disappeared completely and the sun came out, making for a simply perfect relaxing summer afternoon.  It was warm, bright sun, and very light winds.  We read, did some boat chores, and rowed to one of the small islands for a small explore and a swim in the relatively warm water near the rocks.  It felt great!  The only problem was that the bottom became extremely soft a little ways off the rocks, sucking our feet down into the muck.

We shared the harbor with a dozen other boats (all sail) for the night, all of which anchored quite a ways away from us, thankfully.  We had some fun watching the anchoring escapades of a couple of the boats, whose crews seemed remarkably--and frighteningly--inept.  One big boat came in with a bossy wife on board, who always talked loudly--which of course was audible through the whole harbor.  What an annoying woman...and they had no clue.  Fortunately they remained a ways away from us.  I felt bad for her husband.  The port on their boat said "Brooksville, ME", but they were definite snowbirds who obviously retired here from some lesser location...they fit in about as well as I might fit in with the suits at some big corporate board meeting in the heart of New York City.

The evening was beautiful until about 1900, when the fog began to roll back in to our harbor.  It had been coming in on either side for much of the early evening--you could see it against the mountains of Mount Desert, as well as out in Jericho Bay.  We retreated below for a nice evening and early, as usual, to bed.

Thus endeth the log for week three.  Please click here to continue to week 4.