44:21.31N 68:18.70W

“Keith – come quickly…”

Stellie’s voice sounds urgent enough and I quickly climb the companionway into the cockpit.

Not again.  Less than 100 yards away, a fishing boat is heading straight for us at full power.  We alter course, but in our much slower vessel, we cannot escape and can only watch helplessly as he rapidly approaches us broadside on.

The voyage from Cape Cod had started peacefully enough, with fair winds and calm seas for the 140 miles trip to the north east.  We were now approaching Rockport, Maine, a busy fishing port hidden behind a maze of islands and reefs.  Predictably enough, fog had descended, but helped by an early dawn, we were able to see enough to weave our way through the minefield of lobster pots.  And plenty there were, too.  Maine is the lobster capital of the world, and though this means great seafood restaurants with reasonable prices, it does make for tricky navigation.

Soon the boat was almost upon us.  Had they seen us?  Surely there must be someone at the helm?  They had altered course towards us, after all.  Then, at the very last moment, the boat veered away to pass a few yards behind our stern, the fishermen on deck giving a sullen half-wave of acknowledgement.  With our heart rates well into 3 figures, we reflected on the situation.

The action of the boat had been deliberate and designed to frighten us.  Not a great welcome to this state, but what to do about it?  Find the fisherman and discuss the matter?  Inform the coastguard?  Not a great idea to fall out with the locals, particularly in a country where guns are openly for sale. 

Later, as we enjoyed a delicious seafood meal ashore, the waiter told us that the lobster industry was pretty important to Maine’s economy. Interfere with that at your own risk - and don’t expect too much justice.  In 2009, a local fisherman accused another of cutting the lines to his traps.  Guns were drawn and shots fired.  One man was shot in the neck.  The jury was sympathetic – a grave provocation indeed - and the fisherman was acquitted and released.  Apparently, feelings are now running pretty high on their remote island, Matinicus. 

And where did we experience the aggressive actions of the fishing boat driving right at us?  Just a few miles west of Matinicus… 

*    *    *    *    *

Before leaving for Maine, we explored the Elizabethan Islands.  Situated to the north of Martha’s Vineyard, they are beautiful, unspoilt and mostly privately owned.

Offshore, we are hailed by a motorboat.

‘Is that the Oyster 53 or 56?’

Onboard are Jeff and Cindy Wisch, who, as it turns out, are negotiating to buy an Oyster!  They kindly invite us to use their mooring in beautiful Hadley Harbour, Naushon Island, where they are holidaying.

Although landing is not normally permitted, we are privileged to be given a guided tour of this private island, owned by the Forbes family and where Cindy spent her teenage years.  It’s like travelling back in time.  There’s a working farm, stables, and a family boatyard with slip.  Beautiful homes nestle near lagoons in the rolling countryside, and all is tranquil with no cars allowed on the island. 

Next stop is Marion, a pretty village and the home port of Barry and Meg Steinberg, a charming couple who we met on the isle of Cuttyhunk.  We visit their lovely yacht Gloria – traditional lines but a hi-tech build with beautiful wood laminates – and we will hopefully meet up again at New England Boatyard where Barry works. 

At this convenient stepping off point, we await fair tides for the passage through the Cape Cod Canal.

Only 10 miles long, this shortcut saves a passage of 150 miles outside the Cape and avoids the possibility of big seas and fog.  During the war, packs of German U-boats lurking off the Cape provided an added incentive for shipping to take this inland route.  But now it’s a peaceful haven for anglers and cyclists. 

Onwards across the bay and we anchor at dusk at Provincetown, a colourful and vibrant town with a large gay population.  It’s artistic with lots of galleries and has a wonderful ‘edgy’ feel to it, both culturally and physically with its situation at the edge of the Cape Cod peninsula.  It’s a cyclist’s haven, too, and we cycle for miles on properly surfaced tracks through woodland, dunes and along lakes.

We meet Alison and Richard, new owners of Vulcan spirit, a boat that Keith helped to sail back from Sweden when she was built 17 years ago!  The boat is still in great condition.

The overnight sail to Maine was pleasant with fair winds.  We sail past Stellwagen Bank, a favourite haunt of the protected Northern Right whale (sadly none seen) and continue well offshore past Plymouth and later Boston.  But visibility dropped to less than a mile, and, faced with an array of echoes on the radar that I assumed were fishing boats, I awoke Stella to help navigate through them.  Surprisingly, despite what the radar showed, we could see only one ‘lit’ fishing vessel.  We carefully weaved our way through the echoes but saw no more boats.  Then the echoes disappeared.  So what were these ‘phantom’ boats – these spurious echoes?  We believe they were whales - we must have sailed through a pod of whales resting on the surface under cover of darkness.

Notwithstanding the incident at the start of this account, the people of Maine are warm, friendly and most resourceful.  They need to be – winters are long and hard, the summer season with its welcome influx of visitors is short and travel between the remote communities can be difficult in bad weather.  The economy is not just about fishing; Maine is also the largest blueberry producer in the world.  And timber features too in this heavily wooded state.  They claim to produce 2 million toothpicks per day – no doubt needed to cope with the dental effects the lobsters 

Rockland is arty with an Arts Cinema, where we enjoy ‘The Trip’, a film made for the BBC with Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon.   We cycle to the Owl’s Head Transportation Museum, where there’s a meet of old cars and aeroplanes, all working.  Children enjoy riding on vintage pedal cars and free rides in a model ‘T’ ford.  Vintage aircraft are pulled out of the museum to take off from a grass runway and old biplanes with rotary engines take people for rides.

On the lawns are classic and vintage cars in pristine condition, their owners keen to chat about their pet projects.

We are fortunate to meet Tricia, originally from Devon, who invites us to an Independence Day celebration at her boat club in Rockport, just a few miles up the coast.  It’s a barbeque – ‘Brits cook for the Yanks’ – and we are enlisted to bolster up the empire.   So we sail on up to nearby Camden, where, according to our travel guide, a ‘vibrant community consists year-round of writers, retired intelligence officers and plain old wealthy people’.  We climb Mount Battie for the harbour view and are ‘buzzed’ by 2 pairs of golden eagles.  There’s a free open-air concert that evening with Junior Walker’s All Stars Band, who play all the Mo-Town greats.  Great atmosphere, though the fireworks are postponed as fog and rain roll in later. 

A cycle ride over the headland takes us to the barbeque at Rockport Boat Club, overlooking picturesque Rockport harbour.  It’s a sociable affair with delicious food.  Thanks to the hospitable members for making us so welcome! 

And a really big thank you to Tricia, who took us home and kindly showed us all around this beautiful part of the country, and to Jay and Meredith and Tom and Carol who delightfully entertained a couple of wandering Brits!

After such wonderful hospitality, we continue our cruise through rock strewn passages between beautiful islands and enjoy deserted anchorages with only ospreys and seals for company.  At Orcutt Harbour, near Castine, a bald eagle roosts in the trees at the edge of the bay.

Sometimes we anchor just for lunch and then move on.  

Down Eggemoggin Reach, we nervously sail under a bridge only one meter higher than our mast, but wait until low water just to be sure. 

A large part of Mount Desert Island is a nature reserve, the land donated by wealthy individuals who built their summer ‘cottages’ there.  The island is spectacular, with a fiord running up through the middle flanked by mountains either side.  There’s a network of ‘carriageways’ past lakes, around mountains, over rivers on attractive stone bridges and through forest; all purpose built by Rockefeller and for use only by horse-and carriage, cyclists and hikers.  A free bus service connects all towns and places of interest, including a bus just for cycles.

Anchored in Somes Sound, the only fiord on the E Coast of USA, we are pleased to meet up again with Richard and Alison on Vulcan Spirit.  An evening dinghy ride and walk across fields takes us to Acadia Repertory Theatre where we enjoy The Mystery of Irma Vep. Back onboard, we listen to the melancholy wail of the loon, an attractive large waterbird, and watch for seals.

But now its time to head south again.  There will be a favourable windshift on Tuesday so we visit some more islands to the west in preparation for the voyage.  After a night in another deserted anchorage we pull up the anchor to set off, and switch on the VHF… and we hear Cristata!  Hard to believe!  We last saw Canadians Terry and Janine in Graciosa, Canary Islands.   Janine ran the ‘Rum Runners’ HF radio net, and so we kept in touch when crossing oceans - always reassuring to hear those Canadian tones!   They are heading north to Canada – good luck!  Hope we meet up again sometime…

A cheerful wave and we’re off.  Next stop – Boston….