Homeward Bound

Newport, RI

I haven't posted in a long time. Mostly because there isn't much to report. Once I returned to Penobscot Bay from Canada the cruise started feeling more routine. I spent a lot of time visiting the cruising grounds of mid coast Maine on my 2017 trip.

But routine doesn't mean not fun. I love Penobscot Bay. There are so many interesting cities, villages and secluded harbors I can't imagine ever getting bored with it.

I'm not in Newport, RI. I did a long overnight sail from Casco Bay Maine to Provincetown RI (about 110 miles). Next I sailed across Cape Cod Bay, which was filled with Humpback whales, to Onset MA at the western end of the Cape Cod Canal.

On Thursday I road the strong easterly winds on a fast, but wet passage to Narragansett Bay for a few days to attend the Newport boat show.

The weather this week looks good for getting farther west and I expect I'll be back in NJ in about a week.

Tanqueray in Seal Bay, Vinalhaven

To Eastport Maine and back again

Passamaquoddy Bay

Continuing north from Grand Manan Island I entered Passamaquoddy Bay and headed for my next Canadian landfall. St. Andrews, New Brunswick is a delightful little town with incredibly tides of over 20 feet. Huge swaths of land appear and vanish with every cycle.

Leaving St. Andrews, it's only a short sail back to Eastport Maine where I cleared back into the USA using Customs and Immigration's cumbersome new smart phone app. From here on in I'll be heading back west and south, no more east and north on this trip.

In order to continue west, I had to sail back east into Canadian waters to get around Campobello Island. There is a bridge at the southern end of the island but it has a vertical clearance of 47 feet - 5 short of my 52 foot mast height. Once around the island, I anchored in Quoddy Narrows for the night. Back in US waters but only a stones throw from Canada.

Perhaps the nicest part of sailing in Canadian waters is the complete absence of lobster pots. It's sort of like the difference between driving in rush hour traffic or being the only person on the road. In Canada, lobster season ends on June 29th. I don't think the season ever closes in the US.

Sailing without the all those obstacles was delightful but now I had to pay the price. As I was weighing anchor in Quoddy Narrows, I managed to wrap a lobster pot buoy and line around my propeller. I never saw the pot before it attached itself to Tanqueray. Perhaps I drifted back on it as I weighed anchor or perhaps the current kept it hidden underwater. No matter, I was in a predicament. I was able to cut the line and free us from the traps on the bottom but I could not get the line off the prop. To make matters worse, the initial violence of the entanglement caused the prop shaft to pull out of its coupling. I needed a tow to the nearest marina that could take Tanqueray out of the water for repairs.

I called BoatUS - the nautical equivalent of AAA. They did not have service in this remote part of the country. Next I called the US Coast Guard. They were very helpful and tried to find someone to tow me. Eventually, in calling around to find a yard capable of pulling Tanqueray out of the water I also found someone willing to tow me.

The tow boat arrived on site a couple of hours later expecting to tow us under the bridge and back to Eastport where there was a travel lift big enough to get us out of the water for repairs. When I told them the bridge was too low, they agreed to come back later and tow us back around Campobello Island - a much longer route than going under the bridge.

I had lots of time to kill waiting for the tow boat to return so I started doing some calculations. I concluded that because the tides are so extreme in this area we would be able to just squeeze under the bridge if I attempted it at low tide. After explaining this to the tow boat captain when he returned that evening we agreed to take the shorter bridge route.

As all sailors can attest, every time a sailboat goes under a bridge it appears as though the mast is going to hit no matter how large the clearance. This time it seemed certain that I was about to crash into the bridge connecting Lubec Maine with the Canadian island of Campobello. I had confidence in my calculations but nevertheless Butch, the tow boat captain, slowed to a crawl as we passed under without so much as scraping the masthead VHF antenna.

It was pitch dark by the time Butch skillfully brought Tanqueray to a floating dock at Moose Island Marina where I was hauled out of the water early the next morning. It took me half the day to get the prop shaft secured back into the coupling and to readjust the dripless gland but by the end of the day I was back in the water and ready to continue my summer cruise.

Waiting to be hauled in Eastport

Canada

In order to get to Canada, I had to do a few long days. I left Rockland and made it to Northeast Harbor where I fueled up and filled the water tanks. The next day I pressed on to Eastern Bay. During my 2017 cruise, I didn't go any farther east than Northeast Harbor - this was new cruising grounds for me.

Once past Mount Desert Island, the already sparely populated shoreline really thins out. I saw few buildings on shore and few boats other than the ubiquitous lobstermen.

My next stop was Hall Cove on the western side of Steele Harbor Island. I needed a quite place to anchor that wasn't too far off the rhumb line to Canada. Bold granite formations mark the entrance to a narrow cut into the bay. One side is the wild North Atlantic but the other side is calm and sheltered. Once anchored, I could see the fishing village of Jonesport through the binoculars which probably explained why I had excellent cell coverage.

I left early in the morning for the leg across Grand Manan Channal to the island of the same name. My first time taking Tanqueray to a new country. As is so typical of Maine weather, I started in dead calm and was soon ensconced in thick fog. Before long, I heard thunder and noticed darkening skies.

North Head inner harbor, Grand Manan, New Brunswick, Canada

My fellow sailors and I regularly bemoan the frequent bulletins broadcast on the common radio channel by the Coast Guard. They speak so fast and enunciate so poorly that we can't understand much of that they say. On our 2016 sail to Bermuda we had the occasion to hear and talk to Bermuda radio. Every sailor on board was impressed with how easy it was to understand every word they said.

Bermuda is a small island and the Bermuda Radio station was atop a near by hill so we paid them a visit. The man operating the radio explained that the US Coast Guard was much like a military organization with many people cycling through positions which require them to speak on the radio. Bermuda Radio, on the other hand, had long term, full time radio operators.

I'm grateful that the Coast Guard risks their lives to save mariners like myself but I can't help but think there must be some way to train radio operators to be intelligible.

Lest I point a finger only at the USCG, as the skies grew darker, the Canadian Coast Guard broadcast a weather warning several times. Canadian broadcasts are made in English and repeated in French so I had two opportunities to decipher what they were about. Just like their American counterparts, they speak impressively fast but they are almost impossible to understand. All I could garner was that there was severe weather in the Bay of Fundy - probably not far from where I was.

Sure enough, the skies continued to darken and the thunder became louder. Suddenly the wind shifted and strengthened spurring me to drop all sails and continue under power. Moments later the skies opened up and it started to rain hard. Fortunately, I had plenty of time to don my foul weather gear so I was ready. A squall at sea can be frightening but they are usually short lived. This weather was a little different. The winds lightened but the rain lasted for hours. I was happy Tanqueray was getting a fresh water rinse and was amazed to feel the temperature rise from the high 50s to the mid 70s. The warm summer rain and light winds were even pleasant.

The western shore of Grand Manan Island consists of 400 foot cliffs which were completely hidden by the fog until I reached the northern tip of the island. The fog lifted, the rain turned to a light drizzle, and I had an impressive view of the North Head light house. As I past the tip of the island and turned south I was startled to hear whales blowing on both sides of Tanqueray. The enormous Finback whales stayed with me for quite some time as I made my way the last few miles to North Head Harbor. I dodged the departing Grand Manan ferry, grabbed a mooring and called Canada Customs. It was good to be back in my adopted home country of Canada again.

Flying my Canada courtesy flag

Ocean Sunfish

Rockland, ME

It's been a long time since I posted. Viviane was with me for a week and plans changed. We spent a lot of time looking at properties rather than pushing east.

I cruised through Casco Bay, Harpswell and Phippsburg before doing a longish 12 hour hop to Rockland Maine. There was no wind at all for the first two thirds of this day. That's always frustrating to a sailor but it's also quite beautiful to be out on the ocean with nary a ripple on the water. It really facilitates spotting and observing wildlife.

I stumbled upon the most interesting sea creature I've ever seen. I noticed a strange protrusion breaking the surface and adjusted course to pass closer. I thought it might be a whale or porpoise tangled in fishing gear. It turned out to be the oddest looking fish I have ever seen. Quite large, probably over 200 pounds, and just lazily sunning itself on the surface. I was able to get some great video thanks to the calm seas.

Mola

I repeatedly checked my cell phone for internet connectivity as I continued on my way because I was dying to figure out what it was. Just outside Tenant's Harbor I was able to Google again and discovered it was an ocean sunfish.

It's exactly these kinds of discoveries that make the whole trip so interesting and enjoyable.

Maine

Harpswell, ME

Tanqueray anchored in Rockport Harbor

After Gloucester I stopped at Rockport, MA and Isle of Shoals before doing the long hop up to Portland Maine. I've had too much wet weather during this trip but recently the weather has really improved though I could use a little more wind.

Viviane joined me Saturday morning and we rented a car for a couple of days. We used it to drive around Harpswell while trying to imagine what it might be like to live in mid-coast Maine. We're constantly amazed at the lack of congestion on the roads.

First Shark

Gloucester, MA

I had a wonderful sail from Onset to Provincetown. The kind where you trim the sails and don't touch a thing for hours.

Provincetown was nice, but very touristy. Moorings rentals are twice the price of any other place I've sailed to but I was able to anchor reasonably close to shore as it's still early in the season and there weren't many boats around.

Almost every day this last week was overcast and wet. The solar panels are struggling to keep the batteries charged and I haven't been able to get ashore to exercise.

I departed Province town on Wednesday morning in thick fog. Once again the new radar made that tricky task a lost easier.

As I left the coast of Cape Cod to starboard the fog lifted and I saw the first whales of my trip. They were the same kind I've seen before in the Gulf of Maine - Finback whales.

A little farther north I was excited to see a shark for the first time. I noticed the large fin working its way along the shore in a straight line. It moved very differently from whales which crest, blow, inhale and then dive. The shark just moved in a straight line at the surface. The dorsal fin was huge. I wonder if it was a Great White.

There wasn't much wind so I had to motor most of the way to Marblehead but the smooth seas made it easy to spot the shark, whales and the first seal of the summer.

I took a town mooring at Marblehead because it includes laundry and showers. There is a nice supermarket only two blocks from the dingy dock so I stocked up on fresh produce.

Friday morning I departed for nearby Gloucester. It's the other end of the spectrum from Marblehead. Marblehead is filled with expensive sailboats and yacht clubs while Gloucester is filled with commercial fishing boats and seafood processing plants.

Snap, shackle, pop

Onset, MA

broken shackle

The sail to Cutty Hunk was about as fast as it gets. Wind at my back and clear skies above. I averaged above 5.5 knots over the 37 miles.

Ocean swell from the south made me a bit queasy but a broken shackle about half way across Rhode Island Sound distracted me from the nausea. The shackle attaches one of the main sheet blocks to the boom so when it parted there was quite a bang. Despite the initial shock, I realized everything was stable and repairs could wait until I arrived at my destination. Even though that shackle was over 30 years old, it was a sign that I had too much sail up. After reefing the main, Tanqueray was more at ease and sailing just as fast.

Cutty Hunk is similar to Block Island in that there is no bridge. Unlike Block Island, there is no real airport at Cutty Hunk. It's a place for hard core New Englanders.

This early in the season the harbor was mostly deserted and I was able to anchor north of the town mooring field. I never even made it to shore because I left on Wednesday for Onset, Mass. There was some unpleasant weather coming for Thursday and Onset is a much better place to wait it out. It has a very protected harbor and all the shore amenities I might need.

Today is Saturday June 15th. I was able to top off with fuel and water at the marina early this morning before the winds pick up. I plan on leaving for Provincetown very early tomorrow morning so as to catch a fair tide through the Cape Cod Canal.

I've never been to Provincetown so I am not sure how easy it will be to anchor. If it's problematic, I won't stay for long.

Two Ospery on an old Amel in Onset Bay