This week we
have enjoyed peaceful anchorages, the fun of meeting 120 new people at an Ocean
Cruising Club Rally, and dancing to steel band music in Blue Hill. Flash in the Pans, as the steel band is
called, is a community band made up of 30-45 locals who put on at least one
charity concert a week. It is run by Karl who incredibly, despite his
very laid back attitude and appearance, not only runs a Community Band, a Youth
band and a professional band, but also makes 100 instruments (and there can be
several drums to an instrument) a year.
We were almost
sad to leave the picturesque anchorage of Blue Hill. Yet again, people
were incredibly helpful: the customer service manager of the local supermarket
giving us a lift back to the dock; being to hitch a ride to the concert in the
back of a pick-up truck; a local fisherman suggesting the best place to leave
the dinghy on a falling tide whilst we were ashore. Still, we went on to have a
long, but lovely day. We discovered that Blue Hill really is blue in the
morning light. We had a very serene motor across an expansive bay, empty
all but some inquisitive seals and a flight of cormorants drying their
wings. It was a real treat not to have lobster pots to contend with.
The day started so tranquil that our minimal wake tickled the still water as it
opened up as a fan behind us, making the surface sparkle in the early morning
sunshine.
It was
satisfying to get a lot of jobs done – two lots of washing, filling up
with water, cleaning the deck and hulls. Something that you would take
for granted ashore – your gas supply – became quite an epic: four
miles on a small wheeled bicycle balancing a 13kg gas bottle on my back; going
to one harbour to collect an American certified gas bottle, then sailing
further than planned as there is just one place that we can get our British
bottle filled.
We then had a
25 mile trip to the very southern part of Penobscot
Bay, where the coast really is kissing
the ocean – Isle au Haut. As it
was late in the day, we were virtually the only boat on the move. As on
other days, the beauty of the sky was awe-inspiring. When you are at sea
you are given a new perspective of the sky as it becomes a complete dome,
sweeping over you in all directions. During
the day there can be a dramatic build-up of cumulus clouds, the billowing white
towers hanging above you. But as you sail towards the evening the expanse
overhead truly fills your emotions with a fantastic kaleidoscope: sapphire
blue, pink, orange, crimson, gold, the shimmering reflection rippling out
across the water just adding to the dramatic effect.
I know I may
sound as though I work for a travel agency, but this area is sensational!
Penobscot Bay is sprinkled with some 200 islands
in its 40 miles long by 15 miles wide cruising heaven. There are great
stretches of open water and small, winding thoroughfares. The sea state
seems to be perpetually calm, which is something of a mystery to me, and the
winds moderate.
We woke this
morning (19th August) to fog obliterating all but the closest of
moored boats. As the sun gained strength, the granite ledges, rock-strewn
beach and pine trees of the small bay
of Merchant Island
reappeared, yet with the fog still cloaking the horizon, sailing boats and
small islands had an ethereal feel, as if they were suspended in mid-air.
For the rest of the day we have been privileged to a feast of delights:
the area is strewn with islands, all of which seem to try to pack as many pine
trees on to their granite bases as they can. As a result the panorama is
a medley of what seem like green cargos floating on rafts of granite in a blue
sea. What the travel agent won’t tell you is how vociferously the
mosquitoes bite, but it’s a small price to pay and a quick swim soon
dulls the pain - as does one of John’s rum punches.
