cruising on the Mary T

We moved north from Black Point on Sunday, March 13, and headed to Bitter Guana Cay which is only a few miles up the Exuma chain. There are quite a few cays in the Bahamas with “Guana” in their name. We’ve heard that it’s local slang for iguana. Anyway, Bitter Guana Cay is a great, uncrowded anchorage, but we don’t understand why the iguanas are so bitter. Maybe it’s because of the signs declaring, “Don’t feed the iguanas,” which half of the visitors ignore anyway. There was only one other boat there with us one night and we had the place to ourselves the next night.

The endangered Exuma Island iguanas (Cyclura cychlura figginsi) are black and pink and pretty scary looking.  We approached them slowly in our kayak not knowing whether or not they were aggressive. When we walked up on the beach they emerged en masse from the thick vegetation. We are not the kind that like to get up close and personal with wild creatures, so we kept our distance as they kept coming closer. Were they looking for a handout or defending their turf? Since we had no food for them and didn’t care to invade their territory, we backed up slowly and got back into the kayak.

The next day,  a family pulled up to the beach in a small skiff to greet the iguanas without any of the trepidation we had. One kid even got down right in front of one of the small dinosaurs and started filming–perhaps, a future Amy Flannery in the making?

The scenery at Bitter Guana, iguanas aside, is pretty neat. The area is dominated by a crumbling hillside that has exposed white sandstone. It’s very dramatic at sunset. While the iguanas romped on the beach beautiful white-tailed tropic birds performed mating acrobatics overhead.

After two peaceful nights at Bitter Guana, we headed for Big Majors Spot/Staniel Cay just a couple miles to the north. It was crowded with mega-yachts and sailboats. We were enjoying a lovely little sail to Big Majors as we approached a turning point at Harvey’s Cay. We saw a 43-foot catamaran heading south under engine power that turned into our path to raise their sail. We figured they would alter course as they were under power while we were under sail and also had right-of-way due to our starboard tack. They didn’t change course so when we were within shouting distance I waved my arms and yelled “We have right of way,” to which Mr. Catamaran responded “Get out of the way you son of a B____.” Not wishing to have an accident, we did just that. May he be well, happy and peaceful.

Big Majors is well known for the swimming pigs that come off the beach several yards into the water as small boats approach. The sound of the outboard motors get them salivating, because it is usually followed by a handout. These pigs are huge and aggressive and will try to climb into your dinghy, so we throw our slop into the water at a safe distance. They are very cute swimming though and quite agile in the water. There’s also a major snorkeling spot there which is featured in a James Bond film called Thunderball.

After sitting at anchor for a short time at Big Majors we were delighted to see cruising friends Steve and Kim aboard Fine Lion pull in and anchor next to us. We hadn’t seen them since North Palm Beach, FL. We celebrated St. Patty’s Day together at the Staniel Cay Yacht club and were joined by our new British friends John and Ann from Moonlight. All the drinks were served with green food coloring and we feasted on corn beef and cabbage which was really good. Live music followed, but they didn’t play a single Irish tune.

A couple of nights later all four friends came over to Mary T for sundowners. As is often the case, enough hors d’oeuvres were consumed to call it dinner.

Our dear friends Corning and Tita, on Blessed Spirit, also caught up to us at Big Majors and we enjoyed a delicious Mahi dinner aboard their luxurious bateau.  Corning caught the fish and Tita did a fabulous job filleting and cooking it. We enjoyed a few more meals and games of dominoes with them before saying goodbye. They have zoomed ahead and are already back in the USA.

We also lunched at a local restaurant at Staniel Cay with our friends on Spartina, between their numerous social engagements. A TV crew from the Nassau station, ZNS, was  dining at the same spot, so they interviewed each of us about Staniel Cay and how we liked ZNS. Of course we only said positive things, though there are many aspects to ZNS radio that drive us crazy. For example, they always cut off the BBC news at 6:30 p.m. right in the middle of a story.  We listen to ZNS radio nearly everyday in the morning and again at 6 p.m. if we’re aboard Mary T. We are not familiar with the TV station, but maybe we appeared on the news.

We left Big Majors for a night off the shores of the Sampson Cay Marina. We needed to fuel up and fill our water tanks in preparation for our upcoming visit to Cambridge Cay, part of the Exuma Land and Sea Park. We had gone there before in our previous trip to the Bahamas and found the snorkeling to be superb. On this occasion, we investigated a different part of the park and were delighted with the beautiful underwater topography as well as the fish and coral formations. All was going great until we saw a very large shark–8-10 feet or so. It was not paying any attention to us but it got us back up on the dinghy lickety split just the same.

After two days of hiking and snorkeling in the park, we headed across Exuma Sound to Rock Sound, Eleuthera. Rock Sound has a great anchorage where, no matter what direction the wind is blowing, you can find a comfy spot. And we did just that–not that the weather was all that blowy but just because we could. We wanted to see all sides of the sound.

Our land adventures in the town of Rock Sound were rather mundane except for one day when we contemplated a visit across the island to see Rose at the “Nort’ Side” restaurant–about two and a half miles away. We had met her in our 2008 trip and wanted to drop in  to say, “Hi.” As we started walking through town, I stuck my thumb out just to see if anyone would pick us up. And, as often happens in the Family Islands, the first car stopped and took us all the way to the Nort’ Side even though it was out of her way.

Unfortunately, Rose was not there. Not a soul was there except her dog. After a short walk around, we figured we should head on back to town. It was a terribly hot day and not one car drove by on the long walk back. Amy did not have on sensible shoes for this event and was limping after about a mile. We finally made it back to civilization and refreshed ourselves at “Sammy’s Place,” the most reasonably priced restaurant we’ve found in all the Bahamas.

The most significant change we found in this visit to Rock Sound was that the waterfront restaurant and bar, “Four Points,” was back in business.  It’s a great place that allows boaters to use their dinghy dock even if they are not visiting the establishment. This courtesy may not sound like much to those who don’t travel around in a boat, but to cruisers, it’s a wonderful convenience for getting groceries or other necessities.

All told, we spent about a week in various parts of the Rock Sound anchorage. Our plan had been to work our way lazily up the western coast of Eleuthera, but the dire weather forecast of upcoming squalls made us reconsider. Thus we scurried up through the northern gap of Eleuthera called, Current Cut. Appropriately named as the water, at maximum speed, rushes through at up to 6-10 knots. We anchored on the other side and visited the settlement there called, The Current. This town had been thoroughly flattened in the early 1990s by Hurricane Andrew but has made a great comeback.

From Current we moved on to Royal Island and then Spanish Wells. While the dire squalls that we were sheltering from hit the Abacos hard, they never really affected us. Nonetheless, it was an important stopover as we had to renew our visas. We had thought we could do that in Spanish Wells, the most bustling burg we’d visited since George Town. However, they only do customs there–not immigration. The customs officer said we had to go to Lower Bogue on the “mainland” (meaning Eleuthera) and renew our visas there.

So, the next day, we took a small ferry from Spanish Wells (aka St. George Cay) to Jean’s Bay on Eleuthera’s western shore. The ferry captain had called ahead for a cab to take us on to Lower Bogue. It was a relatively short distance in miles that was made quite long by the incessant, non-stop, repetitive chatter of our driver who wanted to show us everything Lower Bogue had to offer. After he finally freed us from the car, he assured us he’d be back to pick us up. We politely declined saying, “No thanks, we’ll hitch hike.”

With the formalities of visa renewal taking less time than our cab ride, we were free to head on over to Dunmore Town on Harbour Island. We hitched and, as usual, were picked up quickly and taken all the way to the next ferry on the east side of Eleuthera. Our driver just happened to work in Dunmore Town. For readers unfamiliar with Harbour Island, it is one of the prettiest and lushest islands in the Bahamas. We had a very pleasant day traipsing about enjoying all that Dunmore Town had to offer.  Although we had originally thought we’d take the high speed ferry that goes direct from Harbour Island to Spanish Wells, we opted for the two small ferrys with the overland hitch hike in between. It was cheaper and also allowed us more flexibility in timing.

Our voyage from Spanish Wells to the Abacos was a spectacular passage. We were able to sail the entire way even sailing through the North Bar Channel cut.  The wind and waves were all in our favor–a very unusual occurrence. We anchored nearby in a spot called Spencer’s Bight and had the place to ourselves. Nearby was a great snorkeling site that we enjoyed the next two days.

Eventually, we made our way to Marsh Harbour where we met up with the jolly crew of Moonlight. We re-provisioned at the most fabulous grocery store we’ve ever seen in the Bahamas–Maxwell’s. Maxwell’s is very much like the supermarkets you’d expect to find in the USA and so, we loaded up the cart and made a couple of return trips as well.

A couple of days later, we departed Marsh Harbour in company with Moonlight, headed for a nearby reef for snorkeling. Although the reef did not compare to previous snorkeling sites, there were a great many conchs sitting on the bottom, free for the taking. John and Ann were able to dive the 20 or so feet to retrieve them and, lucky for us, knew how to extract the creatures from their shells. That night, Ann and John treated us to a delicious dinner of cracked conch and conch salad.We provided the drinks and veggies.

The next morning we went separate ways–Moonlight down to the coral gardens near Spencer’s Bight and Mary T to Hope Town which is where we are now. Hope Town is as cute as a Bahamian town gets, with its brightly colored clapboard houses, candy-striped lighthouse and abundance of flowers. There is a well protected harbor and a gorgeous beach. Yesterday our friends Raffi and Lisa on Windfall caught up to us. We were married on their boat last September in Gloucester, MA, and we hadn’t seen them since, so it was a joyous reunion. They charter their boat out of Gloucester in the summer and out of the Abacos in the winter. Kenny maintains their website: www.defiancesailcharters.com

We plan to bounce around the Abacos for a few more weeks then head back to the good ole USA arriving in the Chesapeake Bay sometime in June. Can’t wait to see you all!

For those who may not know the etiquette, boats visiting foreign countries are expected to fly the flag of the host country in a prominent position on their boat. This is referred to as a courtesy flag. On sailboats, it’s supposed to be flown on a flag halyard on the starboard side of the mast.

We spent about four months in the Bahamas our previous trip in 2008. We used flag on the right (Ny-Glo, purchased from Defender)

This year, we’ve been here five weeks today (February 19) and are using the flag on the left. (some no-name brand, purchased from Bluewater Books & Charts)

Did we have that much more wind in five weeks this year than we did in four months in 2008? Or, does Ny-Glo make much better flags? We’re inclined to believe the latter.

On May 1, we did a land cruise to Baltimore so that Susie Chatham could cover the American Visionary Art Museum’s annual Kinetic Sculpture race for her yet-to-be-named next film. Tim Keating, ace cameraman, did the filming. Ken was driver, key grip, and best boy. Although it was rather hot that day, this was one of the most fun events we’ve ever been to. The crowd was outlandishly festive.

Amy hopes to have some footage ready for YouTube in the coming weeks, but until then, we hope you enjoy the still photos below.

We started our voyage to the Caribbean by moving Mary T a few miles south down the Bay to Deale, MD. We’ll be berthed at Shipwright Harbor Marina for the summer and then take off in earnest in October.  Although we’ll miss the location and amenities of the West River Yacht Harbor in Galesville, we’re happy to be in Deale. The staff are very friendly and helpful, it’s affordable to us, and it’s one of the few places we’ve found that graciously welcome live-aboards and do not require a 12-month lease. We’ve been here before. Shipwright is where we kept Mary T until heading off on our first major voyage in 2007.

We’d like to thank our good friends Spencer and Carol for helping us with car logistics and docking.  The sail down was delightful and their company was much appreciated.

Thanks go out to Adam Cort of Sail Magazine for putting “Cruising on the Mary T” on their Web site. Scroll down to “Destinations + News” and look for “It’s Pirate Friday!”

Also, we are thrilled that Good Old Boat Magazine will be sending out a very positive review by Susan Peterson in the June Newsletter.

The film you’ve all been waiting for is finally here. Amy recently completed the editing of our 2007-2008 trip up to Nova Scotia and down to the Bahamas. We call it a docu-comedy. For more information, go to www.cruisingonthemaryt.com

We are back in slip C-61 at the West River Yacht Harbor in Galesville. Our thanks to the Tates for renting us their slip again. We’d also like to thank our dear friends Tim, Viki, and Annie for allowing us to stay at their house while we renovated our V-berth. The work involved removing the head-liner, cleaning all the mold, painting the fiberglass, and varnishing the teak. We hope to continue cleaning, painting and varnishing the rest of the boat as weather permits.

We also had our diesel inboard repaired. There was a messy fuel leak and an oil leak that had nagged us throughout our trip back from Newfoundland. The oil leak from our raw water pump was the result of sloppy work by a mechanic in Maine. The arrow in the photo points to the broken gasket he covered up with a new gasket. To their credit, Robinhood Marine Center fully reimbursed us for the cost of this job after we e-mailed the photo at right.

Another important item we were able to cross off our “to do” list was the replacement of our wind speed instrument. This device had not been working for a number of years. We lived without it for most of that time but missed it at night when looking up at the wind indicator at the top of the mast becomes very difficult.

How about that big snowstorm December 18 & 19? We heard it was coming so we abandoned ship and headed to the home of Ken’s daughter and son-in-law. It wasn’t so much the snow that concerned us as was the very strong winds that were predicted to blow from the northeast. The slip we occupy is exposed to choppy seas when the wind is out of that direction and that makes life aboard quite unpleasant. We returned on the 20th and spent about 45 minutes shoveling the snow from the boat and the dock. Hopefully there won’t be any more blizzards like that this winter.

Newfoundland is truly a magnificent place. The hospitality is unbeatable.

Less than 24 hours after our arrival in Port aux Basques a man offered us a pile of fresh mackerel fillets. Now mackerel is an oily bait fish which some people eat, but I’ve never tried it, nor has Kenny. I managed to unload some of it on another cruiser who told me she fried it and found it delicious. The Quebecois cruisers politely declined to take any, so now we have eight fillets in the freezer awaiting culinary inspiration.

Later that day our new cruising buddies Karen and Phil met a man who offered to drive them to the gas station for diesel and I hitched a ride. The man was originally from Ontario, but he was infected with Newfie generosity. He wanted nothing in return for his trouble. In Port aux Basques and now here in Rose Blanche, a lot of people like to come by and just stare at the boat.  Most of them are retired men over 60. They’re always happy to chat and tell us about their lives and how great the fishing used to be back in the day. Things are tough now, but most people maintain a chipper outlook despite hard times.

In Cape Breton, NS too, all the people seemed so happy no matter what they were doing. The employees at the grocery store, hardware store, liquor store, and post office all provided service with a smile. A woman who worked at the grocery store in St. Peters, Cape Breton joyfully volunteered to give us a ride back to the boat with our groceries. Our new cruising friend, Phil says it’s a product of good social engineering. Just about everyone is solidly middle-class and they all have health insurance. That isn’t to say they don’t complain about the government.

Mary T was the only sailboat among local fishing boats on the wharf at Rose Blanche, population 600. Opposite us there was a warehouse where fishermen store gear and bait their hooks. I stepped in there one morning and chatted them up while they slapped squid and mackerel on their long lines of 300 hooks. They explained to me how they set their lines and informed me that the government quota was 3000 lbs. of cod per week. People are allowed to fish for three weeks in July and 2 weeks in October. There was a complete moratorium on cod fishing from 1992 to 1998, but now things are up and running again, though it ain’t nearly as good as it used to be. “Hard to catch anything nowadays. Seals are eatin’ all the fish,” one man explained. Time to get back out there and start clubbing the baby seals again, I thought.

Rose Blanche is a gorgeous little seaside village perched on the cliffs. We heard about a hiking trail leading to the next village of Harbor Le Cou. Stopping at the only convenience store, we asked for directions to the trail. A woman named Shanda, who worked there, ended up driving us all the way to Harbor Le Cou so we could see the route by road. I expressed an interest in the whereabouts of the liquor store, so she stopped there for us. After a complete tour of Harbour Le Cou and Rose Blanche, Shanda dropped us off at the beginning of the hiking trail. She even let us keep our wine in her truck so we wouldn’t have to carry it on the trail. “You know where I park it, so just pick up your wine when you get back from your hike.”

The hike was spectacular. When the fog cleared the views of endless moss covered cliffs plunging into the sea were spectacular. On our return trip, we were followed by a small, black Lab who felt the need to escort us all the way back to Rose Blanche. Even the dogs in Newfoundland go above and beyond to make visitors feel at home.

After spending two nights in Rose Blanche, we moved on to the village of Grand Bruit as did Phil and Karen on their Alden 44, Challenge. Phil is a retired physician bent on reforming the health care system. His partner, Karen, used to work for Blue Cross Blue Shield. They are good company and easy to be with. It’s a good thing, because we seem to be on the same schedule. In Grand Bruit, there was only room for one boat at the floating dock so Mary T and Challenge rafted up together. It’s difficult to anchor in some places because of the rocky bottom.

If Rose Blanche is cute as a button, then Grand Bruit (Great Noise) is a 3 button village. It gets it’s name from the thunderous waterfall at the head of the harbor. Colorful saltbox homes dot the hills on either side of the waterfall. A paved sidewalk weaves up and down the hills connecting all the homes. The waterfall is fed by a fresh water pond just on the other side of the hill and beyond that are cliffs and mountain ranges as far as the eye can see. Kenny and I took a dip in the pond. The water was gorgeous. Apart from Karen, who joined us, the place was deserted.

During our wanderings, we stopped to chat with some men on a porch. I asked them about the “Cramalott Inn,” a postage stamp sized building on the hill from which canned music was emanating. It turned out to be the local hangout. Bring your own booze or food or instrument and make a party. Adorning the walls of the interior of the “Cramalott” are calendars of buxom women in bathing suits and photos of a bygone era showing Grand Bruit Harbor packed with fishing schooners. If we return to Grand Bruit on our return trip, we’ll surely make a point to rock the “Cramalott Inn.”

There is no road in Grand Bruit, so the tiny town is slowly dying. The government is talking about moving everyone out and cutting off all services to the 50 or so residents who remain. Since the decline of the fisheries and the closing of fish plants, many towns have been shut down or declined severely in population. To survive many men go to work in the oil fields in Alberta five months out of the year. It made me sad thinking about this as we walked about the town and surrounding hills. In Grand Bruit, it seems outsiders are slowly buying up all the properties. Not sure how they’ll manage if the government pulls the electricity and cuts off the ferry service…

As in Rose Blanche, we had a black Lab accompany us on our hike over the surrounding hills in Grand Bruit. We learned that her name was “Molly” and she too, was a perfect tour guide. At one point, she came running up to us with a large bone in her mouth. We joked that it looked like a human thigh bone. Later, we learned that there were several gravesites at the local cemetery that were deteriorating. Hmmm, guess we shouldn’t have tossed it for the dog to chase.

At the end of our walk, we stopped by the porch again to visit with the fellas and one of them mentioned Caribou. I asked if people did much Caribou hunting these days. I noticed horns adorning many a lintel in Grand Bruit. “Well,” the man said, “not too much anymore. Coyotes killing all the Caribou. And sometimes they don’t even eat it. Just do it to kill. They’re predators, ya know. They was brought here from the mainland.”

“You mean the government, introduced Coyotes here? Why?”

“Don’t know…. leave it to the government.”

That night we had a delightful dinner aboard “Challenge” and planned the next day’s adventure.

We departed Grand Bruit on Friday under sunny skies and light winds and motor sailed to Burgeo, the site of Canadian author, Farley Mowat’s A Whale for the Killing. About 50 years ago a whale was trapped in an inlet and some of the town folks started using it for target practice. Farley alerted the international media in hopes of saving the whale, but he only succeeded in gaining the contempt of many of the townsfolk. In the end, the poor whale died.

Geographically stunning but architecturally purposeful Burgeo nonetheless, has fuel, food and entertainment. Jimmy Flynn, “The Funny Fisherman,” was to perform Friday night at the rec. center. We elected to go despite being in an anchorage a half mile away and having no idea where the rec center was. If Jimmy only knew the lengths we went to catch his act… His one-man comedy/music show consisted primarily of bawdy jokes and popular folk songs like Whiskey in the Jar. It didn’t have much to do with fishing or Newfoundland, so we were a little disappointed.

Our trip back to Mary T was an adventure as there were no lights to guide us through the very narrow passage way to our anchorage. Thank goodness we brought our big spotlight with us in the dinghy.

The next day I went off with Phil and Karen to find diesel. We were only on the road for ten paces with our fuel jugs in hand, when two trucks stopped to offer us a lift. Ivan Lushman was headed for the gas station anyway, so we went with him.  Not only did he take us to the gas station, but took us for a tour of the town. He even pointed out the entrance to the inlet where Farley Mowat’s whale had been trapped. Ivan was only 12 years old at the time, and his father and friend took Farley Mowat in their skiff to go and feed the ailing whale. Ivan said the unfortunate thing about the incident was that all the town of Burgeo was blamed when it was only a handful of folks who were shooting at the whale.
“I was only 12 then, but I knew what they was doing was wrong.”

Ivan said the unfortunate thing about the incident was that all the town of Burgeo was blamed when it was only a handful of folks who were shooting at the whale.
“I was only 12 then, but I knew what they was doing was wrong.”Today, Sunday August 9, we find ourselves on the Island of Ramea about 10 miles from Burgeo. Our arrival was fraught with the usual stress and confusion about where to tie up. The old fish plant wharf was decaying. The outside of the ferry wharf was too exposed to waves and the public wharf was full of fishing boats. Finally a boat moved from the wharf and we dashed in. A nice man caught our lines and then the throngs came out for a look at us.

It is the opening day of their “Come Home” festival and we arrived just in time for the parade complete with a puffin mascot, floats, marching veterans, ambulance and fire truck. Best damned parade I ever saw. Short and sweet. The marching band consisted of a glockenspiel and bass drum. There is a festive air in the town as people long gone return to bask in the warmth of family and friends. This afternoon many different musical groups will perform, so we’ve got to get out there and check it out.

(Two days later)
Well, we did check out the music, and it was a hell of a wang dang doodle. Hundreds of people were gathered under a tent placed over the outdoor hockey arena. Three bands played for an hour each. Kenny describes their music as “Cajun polka meets Celtic.” Several couples got out on the dance floor and jigged up a storm.

We now find ourselves in the beautiful town of Francois, which is as far from a road as you can get in Atlantic Canada. Strangely, the small island of Ramea does have roads. Approaching Francois by boat is like driving into the crater of a volcano. The town sits on the bottom by the water. The hiking trails go on forever and the views of rocky mountains go on and on and on… We are rafted up to our buddies Phil and Karen. Dinner aboard their boat last night. Dinner on Mary T tonight.

This is probably the end of the road for us. We’ll anchor in some deserted fjords on our way back west along the coast, then cross back over to Nova Scotia before the end of the month and start heading southwest, retracing our steps. If all goes well, we’ll arrive back in the Chesapeake Bay before the end of October.

(Note: the position reports are working again. The explanation for the inaccurate placement is that Pangolin’s positions are saved only to the nearest minute of latitude and longitude so as to conserve data base space.)

So, we’re shopping in a grocery store in Boothbay and this one ancient Mainer asks an even older man if he can recall experiencing a month wetter than June of 2009. The second man doesn’t hesitate for a second and says, “Sure, November, 1944.” We figured he must have been referring to the infamous rains that hampered the Allied forces during the Battle of the Bulge. A small history lesson given right there in the cereal aisle put it all in perspective for us.

After leaving the Robinhood Marine Center and going to Love Cove, we did nothing but wait for decent weather. It was either raining heavily with fog or the wind was straight out of the direction we wanted to go. Or, it was all three—fog, rain, and east/southeast wind. So, we waited, and waited and then took up Corning and Tita’s offer to come to their house up in the far reaches of the Sheepscot River.

We put the boat on a mooring in a nearby marina rather than staying on the free mooring we had in Love Cove. Not knowing whose mooring it was nor its ability to hold our boat in a strong blow, would not allow us to rest easy while away. We would have motored up the river to their house, but the fog made pea soup look like chicken broth.

The Townsends live on Davis Island and have a stunning view of the Sheepscot and Back Rivers. They generously put us up in their guest room and treated us royally. Their house is in the final stages of renovations yet still looks great.

Tita is a very talented artist working in various mediums and Corning is a naval architect extraordinaire. They are both possessed with great senses of humor so the evenings were non-stop laugh fests. We celebrated Amy’s birthday with a superb home-cooked meal and enjoyed a long jam session with many different instruments. And, although everyone seems to be somewhat musically inclined, no one seems to have mastered any one instrument. This did not deter us in the least, much to the neighbors’ chagrin.

On Saturday, June 27, the Townsends loaned us their car and gave directions to a very nice hiking trail in a nearby state reserve. As the day worn on it actually got hot! We hadn’t sweated in weeks. So, in order to cool off, we went to Boothbay Harbor for lunch where the temperature was about 15 degrees cooler. We also visited the towns of Damariscotta and Wiscasset.

After breakfast on Sunday, we contemplated our next move. The Townsends invited us to stay longer but we were thinking we might have an opportunity to head eastward to Nova Scotia on Monday so we went back to the boat. Corning came out to the Mary T with us to play his concertina for Amy who needed some music for her upcoming production tentatively entitled, “The Great Sailing Adventure” which is about our 2007-2008 cruise. Monday broke foggy and rainy but we figured we should move just to keep the barnacles from growing on the boat’s bottom. We got out on the Sheepscot heading southeast and realized we wouldn’t enjoy going very far. So, we settled on Christmas Cove just up the Damariscotta River. The fog and rain never let up until we were entering the cove. According to our calculations, we had about 800 feet of visibility. With the forecast for more of the same for the entire week, we decided to take up the Townsends on their original offer.

While sitting at our mooring Monday, our condo tenant called us to say that it had been a very tough June. The kitchen faucet needed repair, the AC was on the blink and the refrigerator was toast. But worst of all, the place had been broken into. The thief, or thieves, pried the door off from its hinges and stole John’s two laptops before apparently being scared by something and taking off. Fortunately, no one was hurt. The door can be replaced but sadly, what lingers is the feeling of vulnerability.

After digesting all that bad news, we considered the bright side—nothing had gone wrong with the condo in all the years we (and John) have lived there and we feel very fortunate to have such a responsible tenant keeping on top of things.

On Tuesday, we went back to the Sheepscot and travelled all the way upriver to the Townsend’s dock. We’ve resigned ourselves to sit here until we get some dryer, clearer, and more favorable weather. Or maybe, we’ll just move in for good. Townsend Manor is very comfortable, offers amazing views, and the company couldn’t be better.

The weather and subsequent shipboard mold, the expensive condo and boat repairs are testing our patience. Yet the spirit of the crew of the Mary T is not easily dampened. Each obstacle is a lesson from which we learn and grow.

Ahhh… such beautiful fog.

Another note about our position reports: Pangolin does not seem to be recording them at all, lately. We are currently in Robinhood Cove off of the Sheepscott River in Maine. Visit Google Maps to see where we are as of June, 19, 2009.

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Willy Beamis, the director of the Isles of Shoals Marine Lab, left a comment on our blog site clearing up the bird doo issue. Seagulls do indeed crap aggressively when they feel their territory is being invaded. Thank you, Willy. Tim Ahern, Amy’s brother-in-law, had also confirmed this behavior as intentional. So why then does the expression, “bird-brain,” refer to a person as having confused ideas and being incapable of serious thought? Seems like it should mean someone who is very protective, cunning, and has good aim. Oh well, on with the story…

On June 10, under increasingly gray skies, we bid adieu to our seagull friends in Isles of Shoals and headed for Portland. As often happens, the weather forecast was off the mark. So, after four hours of fighting wind and waves, we decided to put in at Cape Porpoise just a stone’s throw from Kennebunkport. We dropped the hook amidst a few sailboats and many lobster fishing boats. After swinging on the anchor for a few hours, a friendly local sailor came out on his skiff and told us if we wanted to take the nearby mooring, we were welcome because the owner would not be using it in the near future.

We had planned on departing the next day, but the weather was gray in the morning and the wind still against us, so we moved over to the offered mooring ball. In the afternoon, we hopped in the dinghy and went to explore the town and eat lunch. No sooner had we exited the dinghy when a man came out of a restaurant, and headed straight for me. “Do I know you? Do I look familiar to you?”

I studied his face for a second. “I don’t think so…”

“You’re the ones on the mooring out there, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well that’s my mooring. I thought maybe I knew you, ‘cause I tell people I meet cruising to use it if it’s empty so I thought maybe we’d met…”

“Oh, do we need to get off? Another sailor told us to go ahead and pick it up, so…

“No, no, you’re fine there. My boat’s out of the water…”

His name was Peter and he told us to make ourselves at home. No problem at all. Cape Porpoise was turning out be a swell place. The little town was full of beautiful homes, a library, a few restaurants, and a small but well-stocked grocery store.

Later on, we settled into the Ramp restaurant near the wharf for clam chowder and mussels. It was excellent.

The next day the sun shone for the first time in days, but we stayed on in Cape Porpoise anyway. The big news in town was that George Bush Sr. would be jumping out of an airplane and landing in nearby Kennebunkport. It was his 85th birthday. Go George!

Kenny’s second cousin Brian and his wife Samantha, who live in Kennebunkport, picked us up and treated us to dinner at their favorite restaurant in town. Everyone was so generous with us; we started thinking maybe we should just stay in Maine forever.

At the bar of the restaurant, was a paratrooper who had jumped with George. A CNN reporter was there too. For a minute, it felt like we were back in DC.

Saturday was clear and sunny so we headed out for Jewell Island in Casco Bay. We got there in the late afternoon and were the third to last boat able to fit in the small anchorage. The island is state-owned and permanent moorings are not allowed in the harbor. On any given summer weekend, it would be jam-packed. Fortunately for us, it was still early enough in the season that the numbers of people and boats was small.

We hiked to the World War II era observation tower which is still maintained for natural resources marshals who look for lobster poachers. However, the public is allowed up the eight story tower to take in the grand views of Casco Bay. It’s a hike well worth the torment of the mosquitoes.

The beautiful weather ended Saturday evening when the rains came. It was so rainy we decided to stay put for another day and go to Portland on Monday. Despite the heavy rain, several Mainers were out there fishing, seining and otherwise enjoying the island.

We arrived in Portland Monday morning and took a mooring at Portland Yacht Services. There is no anchoring allowed in the harbor. We set out on our mission of buying the necessary Canadian Charts from Chase and Leavitt and going to the grocery store.

We managed to accomplish all our tasks and still have time for a much needed shower. Once back on board, we did a routine check of the oil and found an excessive amount had leaked out during the short trip from Jewell Island to Portland. Not a good sign.

We had considered heading straight to Nova Scotia from Portland since the weather prediction was so favorable, but decided instead to go to Boothbay Harbor both to test the motor and to visit with cruising buddies on Blessed Spirit whom we had met in the Bahamas. When we arrived in Boothbay Harbor, we checked the engine. There was even more oil oozing from the motor than before. Our boat’s motor is a Perkins 4-108 and is widely known to be sturdy, reliable, and a leaker. We’ve always had leaks like all the other owners we’ve talked to or read about on the Web. However, this was well beyond our comfort level.

When our friends, Corning and Tita, came out to our boat for cocktails we discussed our options. Corning told us who to contact and who in the area had a good reputation. They then took us out for a wonderful dinner at the Boothbay Harbor Yacht Club. We were the only patrons since it was the first night of the season for the restaurant.

Wednesday morning we called a few of the boat yards Corning had recommended and decided to go to Robinhood Marine Center which was only about four miles away off of the Sheepscott River. We had been there in our previous trip to Maine. Gordon, the friendly mechanic came by within a few hours of our arrival and diagnosed the problem. We figured it was a gasket issue, but we wanted the opinion of an expert. Gordon said it was the timing belt cover gasket and that we could continue our trip but it would need to be fixed at some point in the not-too-distant future. So, we decided this was as good a place as any. Besides, we were running out of oil-absorbent pads.

Readers who are not boaters may wonder why a motor is important on a sailboat. Well, it’s a big convenience. It allows you to keep going if the wind dies as well as navigate through narrow places where you cannot sail such as docks, narrow inlets, rock-strewn coves and other such places.

So, here we are, Thursday afternoon, hanging out in a very pretty, very protected cove waiting for a gasket to arrive. We repeat the adage that “cruising is fixing your boat in exotic places” and feel we’ve come up a rung from Cape May, NJ.

It’s been a cold but relatively snow-less winter in Galesville. We survived with out too much trouble. The worst thing was discovering that our foul weather jackets had been attacked by mold and mildew. They’ve been cleaned but the stains remain and will remind us to check on them more frequently.

We hope to haul out the Mary T in early April at the West River Yacht Yard in Galesville MD. We have to do all those onerous jobs related to cleaning and painting the bottom of the boat. Our target date for departure is early May.

There were several improvements made to the Mary T over the winter. The two biggest were a new dodger, bimini, and various connector panels that will allow us to completely enclose the cockpit to shield us from rain and wind.

The other improvement was the addition of a modem for our SSB radio. This will enable us to get good weather reports when we are out of VHF radio range and, we’ll be able to keep in touch with the folks back home via e-mail.