We finally made it off the dock — much later in the season than we’d like, but better late than never. Fortunately, our “patience” was handsomely rewarded. We had an easy dock departure just after slack, and decided that, since it was our first day of the season, we’d keep things simple and sail under jib alone. We never know what issues we’ll encounter raising the main for the first time each year, so we prefer to do it on a light air day when we can take our time. As expected, the afternoon sea breeze filled in. The wind funneled down the mountains and accelerated over the water, making for gusty conditions, but with temperatures in the mid-90s and a heat index over 100°, we welcomed every bit of it. I was so relaxed, I even got in a short nap – it was like Neptune hit my reset button. After months ashore, I’d forgotten just how restorative time on the water is. It never takes long to remember.
Of course, I’m always nervous – shakedowns are often full of surprises and you never know what’s going to go wrong or when. I suppose that’s true of sailing in general, but on a shakedown, it’s almost guaranteed. We almost made it through the day without incident. Then, just off Camden, the ocean swell finally reached us. The motion caused one side of the stern bridle for the dinghy hoist to give up the ghost. Thankfully, the center shackle held and only the port side let go, so it was secure enough to wait until we reached port.
As the wind faded out, we rolled up the jib and started to motor. Chris had to troubleshoot the aft head, which is a constant headache for us, so I took the helm and kept us slow so he didn’t get bounced around too much down there. Just after I handed the helm back to Chris, something caught my eye off the starboard bow. At first it looked like the confused water you see over a submerged ledge, where waves seem to collide with something below the surface.
Then the “ledge” breached. It was a humpback whale, about 100 yards away. We drifted with the engine in neutral, keeping a respectful distance, while we watched him breach and repeatedly slap the water with his enormous pectoral fin. The crack echoed across the bay. We’ve always hoped to see a whale while cruising Maine, but I never imagined we’d get a private show. I can’t put into words what a privilege it is to get to bear witness to Mother Nature’s majesty in so many ways out here, but this will be a story I tell over and over.
Pulpit Harbor was quieter than I expected. Once we were settled on anchor, we made a nice steak dinner on the grill and enjoyed a bottle of wine to celebrate our amazing first sail.
Yesterday was wonderfully lazy. We watched an eagle get chased by a pair of gulls, took a dinghy mission, spent time simply watching the harbor from the cockpit, and I finally tried out my new paddleboard. I still have some work to do on my balance, but I had a blast. While we were at the beach, we met the woman who owns the house we usually anchor off of and had a nice chat. We were treated to a stunning sunset but we missed the fireworks.
This morning we got up early so I’d have time to cook the pancakes and then got under way. Raising the main went better than expected, with only a couple snags in the reefing lines. The air was incredibly light, the bay glassy at times, but we were able to ghost along riding the ups and downs and having an amazing sail. We saw boat speeds anywhere from nothing to 5.9 knots before the afternoon sea breeze finally filled in near Turtle Head at the northern end of Islesboro. We saw seals and harbor porpoises, and even fish, which are not often plentiful in the Penobscot. The silence and peace were incredible and I love that Windara can sail even in very light conditions. With the exception of a few total dead spots, we were able to sail almost the entire way back to Belfast and still make the 3:30 slack. The dock hands were able to come out and help with our lines, which made a tricky docking much smoother (the current had started early and was swirly coming off the dock).
Returning to New England and making Maine our sailing home has been so good for me. Being able to be in touch with nature – the nature I grew up with – is so grounding, and I’m constantly reminded how special it is here. For years, I tried to be a New Yorker, but I never quite fit. The pace always felt a little too fast, the social rhythms never quite clicked, and it seemed like everyone was playing a game I never learned. Here, relationships aren’t purely transactional, Carhartt and flannel pass for high fashion, and the slower pace suits me just fine.