Ports of Call

Like most boaters, we choose our anchorages, at least in part, by the quality of the reviews in Waterway Guides and other sources.  Areas are rated according to their ease of entry, holding, protection from winds and amenities (or lack thereof) for crew.  And,  because this year we decided to try some new spots, we chose an anchorage between Dix and High Islands about 15 miles off the Maine coast from Camden.  We were not disappointed.  When we arrived in late afternoon sunshine, there were about seven sailboats and 2 power boats already in place.  They have Waterway Guides, too, I guess.  As always, we opted for a back row seat and dropped our hook behind the crowd in about 24 feet of water.

In the 1800‘s, Dix Island was home to a major quarry which produced many of the huge granite stones that became centerpieces of some of Washington’s most impressive buildings.

At one time there were reported to be over 2,000 workers living on the tiny island, but today only a few isolated souls call it home.  The current residents own the island and their numbers are not likely to increase exponentially as they eschew electricity and pump their own water by hand.  Hmmmm….not much chance that we would be interested in a second home here.  However, they don’t mind visiting boaters going ashore as long as you “follow the path” and don’t mess with them.  So we did.  Follow the path, that is.

Bill directed the Love Me Tender to the small, rough sand and boulder beach where the trail began.  The locals had thoughtfully mowed a swath of grass, and lined it with homemade “path” signs so visitors would not go astray.  The island was very scenic, covered with pines, yarrow, rose bushes, apple trees and wild berries -- both black and raspberries.  Yum!  The path wove all the way around the island, and my only moment of hesitation was when a small (but fierce) snake slithered across the grassy walkway.  He got my attention!  “Okay, Bill, why don’t you walk in front now, please.”

The walk was very pleasant and it felt good to be on land for a short while.  When we pulled up the anchor to leave the next morning, we were the last boat left in the area.  A lone seal peeked above the waterline up ahead to wish us bon voyage, and we smiled back.  Bill thought it might have been Skippy (a small friend he named last summer) recognizing us… but I don’t think so.  Something not quite right about the whiskers.  Anyway,  we motored north to another popular anchorage off the eastern end of Vinalhaven Island -- Seal Bay.  The guides give this area top marks in every field.  And it is no wonder:  the place is gorgeous!  The entry into the bay is fairly tight and you really have to heed the charts as rock outcroppings lie in wait for the unobservant.  We successfully navigated our way in and found the perfect spot for the night.  By now, we are pretty spoiled by all the starlit skies and calm waters.

We spent my birthday exploring Seal Bay with the plan of leaving the next day for Camden.  Just when you think the world is your oyster…the fog shuts you down.  Drippy skies, zero visibility, fog everywhere, the decision is easily made.  How about another day in Seal Bay?  Brilliant idea!  We read and write and study charts and manuals and cook and clean and otherwise entertain ourselves for another 24 hours.  Not a bad way to spend a day.

We’re now in Camden, Maine and it’s a great town for friends -- both old and new.  Yesterday we noticed a fellow Nordhavn in the harbor and scooted over in the Love Me Tender to introduce ourselves.   The owners turned out to be a nice couple from Florida and we invited them over for a drink. Then today, lunch at a charming, old fashioned diner in Thomaston with Haig Point friend Debbie Hull.  Dinner tonight with Blane and Anne Bowen whom we met last winter on Man O War cay in the Bahamas……all fun treats for us and new people to tell our stories to as well.

Tomorrow I leave for a week in Highlands, NC to help my mom move into the “mountain home” and the Captain will be left to his own devices in Camden Harbor.  He assures me that his list of boat projects is long and that he will not be lonely, but really, after being within shouting distance of each other for all these months, however will he manage?

Let’s Dance…..Carol & Bill
 

Just Another Day

While a great number of days aboard Let’s Dance meld seamlessly one into another, some days stand alone in our memories -- for good or for not so good.  August 8th was one of those good summer days. 

The morning broke clear and still after a rough and stormy predecessor.  We had anchored off Portsmouth, NH, just on the edge of the Maine border and probably swayed between the two states overnight as the currents and tides shifted us from side to side.  We set off with blue skies overhead and flat water below.  Underway, about 10 minutes later, we could see fog enveloping the base of the lighthouse at the harbor’s entrance.  In front of us, a long barge carrying a  tall crane was being pulled along the channel by a tug, and soon we could see only the crane’s top. You guessed it -- our first full day in Maine and we are in a heavy fog.

For several hours we chugged along in the gray light, mindful of lobster buoys, fishing boats and any other unfortunates crossing our path.  Estimated visibility was about ¼ mile or less and we were lucky that few other boats were about.  One sailboat nipped behind us with a short horn toot to alert us to her presence, then faded back into the mist.  Captain Bill has pretty much perfected spotting “targets” or “bogeys” as they appear on the radar screens in the pilothouse.  One radar monitor is set to 2 nautical miles and the other to 3.  Rings indicate 500 yard distances, radiating out from us at the center of the screen, so it’s possible to track other boats without looking out the windows.  I’m almost certain that Bill can tell the hull color of approaching traffic he’s so good at this.

The fog lifted and descended intermittently throughout the rest of the day, but our attention was diverted by other events.  About 10 am, just off the starboard bow, a chubby seal surfaced for a quick look, then dove out of sight.  I wish he’d stayed around a bit longer, but he seemed to have more important things on his agenda than entertaining us.  By noon, the seas had flattened to a broad sheet of silver and we skimmed along at over 7 knots -- pretty fast for Let’s Dance!  Bill and I were in the pilothouse when we both noticed a quick flash, like a tiny lightning strike, in the water straight ahead of us.  A second later, we saw another flash and this time recognized it as a fish flying out of the water as if pursued by demons.  In fact it was being chased, but by a whale!  Wow!  Our first whale sighting aboard LD.  Six miles off the coast of southeast Maine in about 100 feet of water -- this guy was big -- 12 to 15 feet long and incredibly sleek and purposeful.  We pity the flying fish, as he surely became lunch, or at least a tasty snack, for the big fella.

After our lunch of BBQ chicken, salad and grapes, we settled in for a quiet afternoon.  I took the helm (yes, Bill does sometimes let me drive!) and the Captain went to the salon for a break.  We were temporarily fog free, but the skies were still leaden -- just the sort of light that makes the sea and sky blend together with no discernible horizon.  A flock of lithe skimmers -- agile black and white little birds -- caught my attention.  They work as a group, circle a patch of glassy smooth ocean, dart down and then back up, presumably with special treats in their tiny tummies.

Late afternoon brought another fun sight to behold.  We passed by two guys in a 25 foot fishing boat who had just landed what appeared to be a giant tuna.  We could only see the head of the fish as it hung out the back of their boat and it was huge.  The guys were high-fiving each other and shouting for us to look -- the catch had clearly made their day and there were bound to be fish stories told this night.

So, a busy day for us -- fog and rain and sunny blue skies; calm and wind-roughened seas; whale and seal sightings; skimmer adventures and fish stories -- just another day in the life of Let’s Dance.  We anchored in the lee of Cliff Island, in Casco Bay, and ended the day’s journey with a quiet cocktail on the fly bridge.  Time for reflection and laughter.

And then, this morning, more excitement and we haven’t even raised the anchor!  A real-deal Maine lobsterman and his mate circle around us to pull up and re-bait their traps.  We have inadvertently anchored ourselves in the center of their lines and buoys and have a front row seat for the show.  Usually thought to be taciturn, this fisherman is downright chatty -- wanting to know where we’re from, how we like our Nordie, where we are headed next -- he is our new best friend.

On a last circle around Let’s Dance, he pulled up next to us and I thought he might offer us a lobster. (That was my hope, anyway!)  Instead, he offered us a mooring in the inner harbor in case we wanted to go ashore to explore the tiny island that he calls home.  We declined, as we are motoring a bit further north today, but it was fun to experience this small bit of Americana called Cliff Island.

Let’s Dance……Carol and Bill

Rhode Island

Greetings from the shaded salon of Let’s Dance, as we prepare to spend another night just offshore from the quiet village of Vineyard Haven, MA.  We’re anchored here for a few days before moving on to a Nantucket reunion with Dallas friends from years past.

Last summer, on the maiden voyage of Let‘s Dance, we almost ignored little Rhode Island altogether, stopping only for minor repairs and maintenance near Newport.  We have righted that omission this summer by more thoughtfully exploring the rivers and bays of this tiny gem of a state.  Our first stop was at Watch Hill which sits almost on the border of Connecticut.  From the water, huge, stately, shingled homes dot the hillside, along with a stunningly yellow Victorian hotel.  One could imagine ladies with parasols and gents with canes strolling the verandahs on a summer evening.  A tranquil piece of real estate, indeed.

Opting to not enter the fairly shallow harbor, we decided to anchor in about 20 feet of water off the beach, on the ocean side of the peninsula.  It was a gorgeous night, flat water, starry skies and excellent company.  We watched the news, Jeopardy and an episode of Boston Legal before bedtime, as has become our custom.  Next thing we know, our world is being rocked…literally.  Let’s Dance is shaking and shimmying and  rolling side to side.   Looking out the stateroom porthole, the water appears calm…not totally flat, of course, but not crashing waves either.  We have become the victim of fetch!

Fetch, or fetch length, plays a role in determining the size of a wave based on the length of water over which it travels and the wind speed that propels it along.  For us, that meant that all the open water that was between us (snuggled up to the Rhode Island coastline) and the eastern tip of Long Island, was, under cover of darkness, making its way towards us, gaining strength along the way.  Long, long swells of ocean kept us from enjoying a good night’s rest.  There is not a single thing fetching about fetch.

We journeyed on the next morning up the western side of Narragansett Bay, ending a short day on the water in a wonderfully calm and protected harbor called Dutch Island Harbor.  The anchorage was on the west side of Conanicut Island, a short walk across the island  from Jamestown.  This village was named after the Duke of York, who later became King James, in 1678 (1678!)  After a few days here, we continued north and west, to the charming town of Wickford.  Another anchorage for us and several short trips in the Love Me Tender to explore the town.  We’d hoped to attend a shore side concert one night, but a late afternoon squall kept us on board, dry and safe. 

Just north of Wickford there is Quonset Point, origin possibly of the Quonset hut, and home to a fleet of military C-130 cargo planes.  Captain Bill reminisced about his days as a reluctant jumper -- “Stand up!  Hook up! Ready! Jump!”


Next stop:  East Greenwich, RI.  We don’t know anything for certain, but there is a definite ‘matrimonial’ air about this little town.  Per block there were more wedding dress boutiques, jewelry stores, beauty salons and bakeries than would seem to be the norm for a town this size.  That, and an abundance of barber shops, most with red, white and blue poles turning out front, had our curiosity aroused.  My old (long-time?) friend, Chris Born, came aboard here, bringing us a much appreciated array of cheeses, crackers, cornichons, chutney, champagne and chocolate.  That’s a lot of “c’s”.  Thanks, Chris!  After dinner in town, Chris returned to doctoring in Providence and Bill and I motored back to Let’s Dance.

Bristol caught our fancy next and we spent a delightful afternoon touring the town.  The 4th of July is really big here, and a permanent red, white and blue stripe is painted down the center of the main street.  A fascinating museum is dedicated to the Herreshoff family’s history of boat building.  From the 1850’s until 1945, this company was at the forefront of ship building - designing the first US Navy torpedo boat in 1876 and continuing on to the first catamaran and a series of racing yachts that led to America’s Cup wins through the 1930’s.  Quite a talented family of sailors and inventors. 

Our tour of Rhode Island concluded with a lazy glide down the Sakonnet River through pastoral farm lands dotted with hillside cottages, barns and the occasional large estate.  It is a beautiful area, surprisingly rural to be located so close to Newport.  Along the route we were hailed by “Summer Skis”, a Nordhavn 43 whose owner watched us from shore.  We chatted and were invited to make use of his mooring at Block Island on our return trip south.  Very thoughtful of him.

Since arriving at the Vineyard, Bill has changed from tourist mode to Captain mode once more.  He has donned wet suit and hookah to clean Let’s Dance’s hull, checked her propellers and zincs, tightened the davit seals and otherwise assured that she is ship shape and finely tuned for the next leg of the journey.  Fully rested, Captain and crew weigh anchor tomorrow for the 30 mile jaunt to Nantucket. 

Stay safe, friends, and enjoy the rest of the summer!

Let’s Dance…..Carol and Bill