Our sail to Calderwood was beautiful and we were surprised to find only one other boat at anchor. We anchored about in the same spot we did last year and dinghied ashore for a quick walk on the beach. I would have loved to wander the island’s interior, but with everyone talking about ticks this season, neither one of us felt like dousing ourselves in OFF, nor did we want to risk a bite.
Saturday morning was cloaked in fog that lightened and socked back in all throughout the day. Though it was damp and chilly, we were comfortable tucked away below, reading for most of the day. We kept checking weather and poking our heads up to see if it had lifted. Sometimes we’d look up and be hard pressed to see the lobster buoys only a few hundred yards away, and other times the visibility looked promising. Around 5pm, we were tricked into thinking we’d gotten that break that promised break in the fog, so we prepped quickly and got moving, hoping to make the relatively short run to Castine before dark.
Just as we cleared the islands, the fog settled back in, but we were already committed. I grabbed out the headsets and went forward to stand fog watch, keeping alert for any pots or marine traffic. Vis improved as we passed Bald Island, and we had a nice reprieve until just before we got to Eggemoggin Reach, where vis went from a couple miles to a quarter mile or less. By the time we reached Castine, it was pea soup. We gave a securité call on 16 before entering the channel to be on the safe side. Our new radar works really well, but we figured it was safer to announce our presence in case anyone was just preparing to get under way (particularly commercial traffic). Coming in the channel, I felt like I was in a sensory depravation chamber – I couldn’t see either shore, and really anything outside the channel was indistinct until we were right up on it.
We were going to anchor basically in the middle of Smith Cove, but as we approached the fog lightened enough that we could clearly see the other vessels in the anchorage. The owner of the Nordhavn trawler that we anchored inshore of apparently came up to watch us like a hawk as we dropped anchor – he probably thought that no one who knew jack about what they were doing would have been out in those conditions. We were both cold and wet, so we were glad to get in and make a nice warm dinner. It’s kind of fitting that we returned to Castine in a fog, which once again lifted as soon as we were anchored. While the trip was stressful in that it required both of our full attention, I’m glad we made the decision to go.
In the morning had a perfect breeze to sail back to Belfast, and I took the helm for almost the entire run. I finally remembered to properly tension the jib halyard, and it made a huge difference in our speed.
The past three weeks of cruising reminded me that while this life is not without its challenges, the rewards outweigh them a millionfold. We’re so lucky to have been able to wake up in beautiful places and take advantage of amazing sailing, hiking, exploring, and time with family and friends on this cruise. With all the fixes and upgrades we made to Windara this off season, she feels more like home than ever, and all of us, even Jack, really thrive in our floating home.