Tuesday 21st of July
At every port as we travelled up the east coast, people would ask Captain and his wife where they were heading. They would say Maine. I go wherever they want me to without objection, but now that we are here, I feel so up-standed by a state. States can't glide through air and water like me, but this one apparently has its own smooth moves. As soon as we arrived at Casco Bay, Captain's wife voiced her awe, "oh, it looks like Maine, just like the photos in books." Meh! I don't think Maine likes me, because she put so many prop killing lobster pots in my way that I have to slalom to dodge until I'm worn out. "Oh, look at those beautiful cliffs with a cute house at the top! " "oh, look at all the ever green trees." "Oh, look at the glittery beaches with quartz and mica." Well, who got you here? I did. Now, Captain and his wife kayak and paddle-board to every shore and spend each day away. Many of the other boats here are small and are not live-aboards, and they have "ME" on their sides. I look everywhere, and it's ME ME ME. Maine might be a little self-centered. I guess she is very pretty and has a lot of coastline and islands. I too can't resist good cruising grounds, with all the anchorages to choose from. First, we anchored at Cliff Island for 2 nights, then took a day mooring at Eagle Island state park, and now anchored in Ports Harbor. Children play in shallows and search for crabs. I guess if I'm abandoned by my crew, this is a pleasant place to anchor about in the summer. Perhaps, I am jealous because my crew spent over a month sailing me up to here, and now when people ask them where they are going, they say, "Here. Maine was our goal." Maine is actually really nice... but Maine, its not all about you, and yo water is cold!
Saturday 25th of June
I have been mourning the loss of my beautiful pal, a Doyle Utility Power Sail, Spinnaker. The big blue and white Spinnaker with unplanned tie-die pattern from being left wet furled now lays in the cockpit like a discarded carcass. Some of his guts still wrapped around my stay and my diamond wire for the night that followed. His demise came Saturday anchored in a seemingly safe cove by a marina by hills at the south. The morning was sunny and hot, so Captain raised my pal Spinnaker furled, yet not tight up the halyard, so it could dry from the being lazily left on my trampoline the night before. Captain and his wife motored the tender to the municipal dock and walked up Main Street to the hardware store and auto parts store for me. When they returned, Captain performed a few repairs on me, took a cool swim, and then hung his swim shorts and laid down for a nap in his berth wearing only his undies. They knew a rain was heading in, but lost track of time. The Captain's wife was cleaning and organizing when the rain started to sprinkle. Then the wind from the north suddenly picked up, so she took her herb plants into shelter and went to retrieve swimsuits and towels hanging off my lifelines when the clouds released a downpour. The wind gusted hard and Captain's swim shorts flew off the line, which prompted an expletive from her. Captain awoke and popped his head out the port head hatch just in time to catch his shorts. Wife dashed into salon for refuge from the heavy rain and winds of maybe 25kts. She was soaking wet from the rain so she took her clothes off. Then the wind gusted like God pointed a giant air compressor tip right at me (51kt gust for many minutes) and water crested at 6feet or more height. Captain in his underwear and his naked wife rushed out at the sound of violent flapping of Spinnaker. The top steel swivel swung side to side with the fierce winds and the nylon sailcloth started to rip. Captain grabbed ahold of the middle of Spinnaker and tried to free him. Wife realized she was naked on the deck in front of God and country, so she went back into the salon and put her wet cotton cover dress back on. When she returned, she saw her husband struggling as the forces of nature were too powerful and wrapped Spinnaker around the diamond stay. She managed to get to his halyard at my mast but Captain commanded her to take his place. She carefully traversed my slippery surface and sat on the lower part of furled sad spinnaker on the trampoline. Then Captain, posted at my mast, tried to lower the halyard slowly, but the wind kept my pal wrapped tightly around the diamond wire. Already his upper part had unfurled and torn in the diamond wire. After a perceived long time of no control and the wife yelling, " forget about the spinnaker, it's done!", they conceded Spinnaker was a goner, but both worried the steel hardware posed risk of damaging more of me, and Captain's wrestling with the halyard and the waves and wind lifted his wife and she could no longer hold a safe position. He told her to get off and he tightened the halyard the best he could. At this point, wife clung to my trampoline, thinking she couldn't walk without being sweeped off my deck. Captain yelled, "Come on!" She reluctantly followed him back to the cockpit without slipping. I kept holding on with my anchor clawed into the basin, but started to slowly plow. Captain started the engines and powered them up to relieve the strain on my anchor chain. The storm relentlessly kept 35-40 kts of wind at us and waves bounced my new tender that hung on to my back cleat, while she filled up with rain and ocean water. Wife noticed the black dock line loose near the prop as well so she yelled to Captain to put my port engine in neutral. He did and she pulled the black rope out of the water. Captain asked her to stay on the sugar scoop to keep the dinghy rope from falling into prop. Now the gust grew again to 50+knots, so Captain engaged both engines full throttle just to keep strain off my chain and stay in place. A neighboring mono-haul sailboat lost its anchorhold and drifted to the shore and beached to the west, a luxury motor boat fell to the same fate at the east. Another sailboat could be seen baring ripped raised sails headingto cove. Boats were loosing their dinghies or sails and personal items everywhere. The blowing rain brought visibility down to 100 feet. The net bag of lemons by the fruit hammock hanging in the cockpit was gone. Overall it was a 30 minute battle until finally the winds returned to 20kts and they turned the engines off. As skies cleared and everything calmed, everyone looked around and radioed their buddy boats to check their friends were alright. The beached boats awaited high tide and were able to get free from those beaches. The lemons floated back towards me and wife laughed as she retrieved them with the fishing net. A neighbor rescued a lost dinghy for another neighbor. Multiple generators hummed from the large houses on shore. Everyone seemed to be okay with what just happened, but I cradle my pal Spinnaker in my cockpit, as he no longer can hold wind. Captain now debates surgery on Spinnaker, or replacing him. How cold can you be, Captain?
Saturday 18th of June
This morning, Captain's wife sailed me away from Annapolis with a new tender safely stowed. I slalomed today to get around so many crab pots coming out of Spa Creek into Chesapeake Bay. I should get a medal for my precision execution. She sailed me wing on wing for some downwind while Captain napped, then they put up my spinnaker for the rest of the way to our anchorage in fresh water north of Hart Miller Island. Tomorrow, we motor through the C&D canal.
Tuesday 14th of June
Finally free! I am finally free! Oh how I've longed for a stretch on the water. After nearly a year stuck at a marina, then 2 months perched on stands on the gravel lot in the boatyard, the wind felt fantastic today filling my main sail and spinnaker. I think today was my best performance. My new copper bottom glided through the cool Chesapeake water. I felt less apprehension when navigating channels. With a new forward looking sonar, I can tell Captain what depth is ahead. Only one hiccup today. My windlass control for pulling anchor up had a corroded wire, so once again. Captain fixed me impromptu. All is well now that Captain and his wife are nestled in bed at a calm anchorage.