TripSailor.com® Sailing Blogs

At last, the perfect day, so please forgive a bout of waxing lyrical!  Wind at 10-15 knots from the NW which meant that we could sail northward at 5 – 7 knots on a close-reach with the wind 60 degrees to port off the bow, hardly any waves, sunshine, and whales.  This was the day we had been working for…and it made us very happy.  Thursday morning arrived with a reduction in wind which allowed us to replace the shackles on the jib, raise it, and re-furl it without too much sail thrashing around the deck.  We then embarked on a fit of seizing every shackle that we could identify in which the pin might come loose.  This was followed by hauling the dinghy on deck in preparation for several days of heading north.  Our tentative plan was to spend the night at the Isle of Shoals, just off the coast on the New Hampshire/Maine border, but only if we arrived early in the evening.  As the name implies, this was not an area to be approached after dark.  As it turned out, we were happy to sail past all the flashing lights and save the visit for another time because, well, we were sailing happily.  Cape CodBay, into which we sailed after motoring out the Plymouth channel, is a popular whale-watching area, and as Provincetown faded away from the southeastern horizon our excitement grew.  Not that either of us could claim any great wisdom as to the favored locations of whales in relation to the complex underwater topography of this deep-water bay but we did know how to look for the large, commercial whale-watching boats.  Sure enough, in the afternoon our route approached a collection of variously sized boats overseen by a small, circling plane and through binoculars we were captivated by the numerous water spouts, rolling backs and dorsal fins, and the occasional tail-fluke.  The latter was the unmistakable signature of a humpback whale but we could not really tell if we saw any other species.  The closest approach to us was about 200 yd so the camera was not deployed and there was no fear of accidental contact but nonetheless it was profoundly good to know that these giants are still out there. The perfect day was followed by a beautiful night that, as forecast, had “light and variable winds” which is the technical description for making little sailing progress and having to frequently change direction or sail position.  Friday (July 11^th) dawned with glassy seas and by mid-afternoon the teasingly gentle breezes and lack of headway although relaxing was insufficient progress for our needs.  The perfect sailing conditions, as we had just experienced are like the rare moment of vertical position on a pendulum swing.  The rest of the time the wind is insufficient (below 5 knots for a well-laden boat such as ours) or too strong (currently anything much above 20 knots until we become more confident of all the rigging and how to reef – reduce the size of – the mainsail).  Less than ideal wind direction (such as from dead-ahead) can be overcome by tacking along a zig-zag rather than direct path but nothing feels quite as perfect as the wind on your face, a direct route, taut sails, and a healthy speed on the knot-meter.  The rest of the time the sailor makes the best of the conditions and with no timetable or storms to avoid learns to enjoy ghosting along or the thrill of taming an overpowered boat. However, by the afternoon our desire to get further north before the end of summer turned us back and to avoid being unprepared at sea on Sunday when 25 knot winds were (correctly) forecast, overrode our sailors’ (and penny-pinching) reluctance to turn on the engine.  So we aimed for Mount Desert Island, Maine (home of the better-known AcadiaNational Park), motored for the second night, and enjoyed star-gazing from the calm waters.  Of course, one advantage of motoring is the increased maneuverability which we put to the test soon after ignition when a large black fin was spotted near the boat.  This was the third such fin we had seen but our ability to circle the creature allowed it to be the first time the owner was identified.  Obvious that it was not an air-breathing mammal we were at first puzzled by the long time spent at the surface by such a big fish and impressed at the ominous realization that this was a very large shark.  But patient observation of the rounded snout and eventually a spectacular head-on view of the combs of gill rakers in the huge gaping mouth confirmed that it was a member of the second largest fish species in the world (second only to the whale shark), the plankton-feeding basking shark.  I remembered reports of these from my youth in Cornwall but to look down on one so calmly…well, basking in the clear North Atlantic water was a remarkably exciting experience. Our sunny, early morning approach to Mount Desert Island between the smaller islands and ledges, occasionally supplementing the motor with an unfurled jib, was another perfect passage.  Cooler air, mountainous topography, pine-woods aroma, and a host of new, temperate wildlife again raised our spirits with the thrill of all that to which we had been looking-forward.  One grey seal, several harbor seals, harbor porpoises (at least that was our best estimate of the small dolphin-like surface rolls), a puffin, loons, black guillemots, and several dovekies greeted our arrival in the southern bays of Mount Desert Island.  Anchoring near GreeningIsland, just north of SouthwestHarbor we had found a wonderful new home looking out to sea down the long “Western Way” channel in one direction, and in the other up Somes Sound, said to be the only true fjord outside Alaska in North America (subsequent reading about Newfoundland makes me think that this claim must be limited to the continent or to the USA).  After much-needed engine-warmed showers and naps, our spectacular vantage point was only enhanced further that afternoon by having a ring-side seat for the start of a race of Friendship Schooners, beautiful, wooden-sparred, gaff-rigged, old boats with long-bowsprits.  Even after three days at sea, there is nothing like the view of elegant boats sailed well in a stiffening breeze to make one ready to hoist the main again!