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
