Welcome to Maine!

Today it is exactly one month since we departed Chesapeake City for Maine,
and we’re ecstatic to be here. We had a great sail on Friday afternoon,
brisk wind, calm seas that hadn’t built yet, and bright sunshine. Throughout
the night the wind gradually died as the waves built, but by dawn we were
passing lighthouses off the Maine coast, and plenty of lobster buoys.

Late Friday afternoon we were greeted by a large humpback whale. He breached
several times, launching his huge bulk out of the water and causing an
explosion of water as he landed on his side. He’d flash his giant fluke and
then he’d turn on his back, waving his enormous pectoral flippers. We waved
back in awe.

Saturday morning we wound into Maine coastal waters, dodging lobster pots as
we headed for Mt. Desert Island, the home of Acadia National Park. We sailed
through some rain on the outer coast, and as we approached shore the smell
of wet pine trees wafted across the water. Small whales broke the surface in
between the lobster floats, and shy seals would occasionally have their
faces out of the water, impersonating lobster buoys before diving back into
the water as we approached. The stark contrast between the rough waters
offshore and the peaceful inshore waters was a warm welcome to these tired
sailors.

We eventually dropped our anchor in the aptly named “Pretty Marsh Harbor.”
(We’ve been to Marsh Harbour in the Bahamas, and “Pretty Marsh Harbor” wins
that competition hands down, although the water here is a LOT colder.) The
sun came out, we took hot showers, and sat down to admire our surroundings.
The 10 foot tide had gone out, exposing the rocky shoreline, and two other
boats shared our harbor, tucked in tight between rocks that we didn’t wish
to brave.

As night fell last night it was completely silent, no ferry traffic, no
lobster boats, and no airplanes like in Boston. There weren’t even any
lights visible from the scattered houses on shore, just darkness with a full
sky of stars. We spoke in whispers and read books, even the VHF was silent,
a world away from the sights and sounds of Boston that we left only 36 hours
before.

So far, I think we’ll like Maine.