A double delight - After traveling 1998.9 miles (1737 NM), we have finally reached Acadia National Park AND, how special, we are here with our kids!

Katie and Eric met us in Boothbay last Saturday. With the adrenal excitement of the first hours of vacation, they shrug off their fatigue - a combination of Eric's red-eye flight, their 3 plus hour ride up from Beantown and schlepping armfuls of gear and groceries. For our final night here in Boothbay, we enjoy dinner at The Lobster Shack, popular for its Bobby Flay Throw Down distinction, and turn in early as we all look forward to sailing to our farthest northern destination - Downeast Bar Harbor ("Ba Haba").

As we sail northeast over the next two days, the relief of the coast gets increasingly impressive. These higher and rockier elevations, first layered by the velvety dense evergreens (intermittently interrupted by sprawling "cottages") are then topped, at least for these two days, by the clear blue skies. In the water, we spot a few lithe dolphins (darker and smaller than their Florida cousins) and the occasional demure seal. Passing many picture-perfect lighthouses but lacking both a decent camera and photographic acumen, I feel impotent decidedly not snapping perfect pictures. This first night we stop in working-class Rockland - described in the cruising guides as the "real Maine" - which serves us as a convenient, benign midway point, a respite after our sensory-filled day. On day two, the show continues as we sail the tight inside Fox Island Thorofare through the equally picture-perfect perched villages of Vinalhaven, North Haven and Stonington. Katie and I, frigid on the front deck (this is "summah"?), snuggle close as we don't want to miss even one frame of these beautiful sites.

Traveling with, indeed being with, our now twenty-something children has become our parental karmic reward. With long sailing days to ports devoid of night life, they are happy to chill in the evenings playing cards (college beer-drinking games sans the beer and sans David, who is apparently too advanced for such folly). Katie is our go-to grocery girl and shares recipes and cooking techniques with me. Eric's presence on board gives both me and David a welcomed break: I get to formally relinquish my (sub-par) role as first mate and David gains an enthusiastic, legitimate crew member. Eric, intent on one day owning his own sailboat, is eager to glean what knowledge his father is reciprocally eager to impart. The two guys jabber in nautical alphabet-soup code (gps, ais, epirb, and siriusxm) while Eric, reveling in the hands-on experience, mans the helm for hours doggedly dodging the increasingly dense minefield of buoyed "lobstah" pots. (Surely lobster is next up on the endangered list!)

The final approach to Mount Desert Island (MDI), which lays claim to Acadia, resembles a northern BVI - panoramic vistas of island upon islands as far as the eye can see. Acadia National Park is second only to Yellowstone as our nation's most visited, in part due to its reasonable driving distance for the densely populated Northeast but also because of its extensive access by sea. The park can be reached from multiple ports on MDI, each with its own unique character....and we try a few. First Northeast Harbor (small, upscale) then the bustling Bar Harbor (especially with the Caribbean Princess in port), Some Sound (the only true fjord in North America) and Southwest Harbor (expansive harbor with quiet small-town feel ashore).

We use Bar Harbor as our gateway to explore Acadia on foot. Hampered a bit as I am traveling with gimpy (still injured Eric), wimpy (crappy sneakers Katie) and skimpy (are-we-done-yet Dave), we eschew the plethora of trail offerings and choose the "hiking-lite" flat shore path. It is a stunning stroll along the cliffs but turns into a tease, terminating after a short one mile and looping us into the effervescence of downtown. Juxtaposed against the majestic backdrop of Cadillac Mountain rising 1530 ft. from sea level, the diverse crowd of outdoorsy, Maine-gy, preppy and cruise-ship types all commingle in the souvenir shops, outdoor outfitters, beer & lobster joints and internet cafes. We too snap some obligatory vacation shots but are happy to leave the fray behind and return to the boat.

Once again bundled up against the cold sea air and recognizing that we are leaving our northernmost point, we turn with some poignancy southward to begin our very slow return to Naples. As we sail away, the hordes of people spread by tour bus appear as colorful push-pins along this jagged coast. We are glad to take in Acadia, this natural treasure, from the vantage this cruising family deems it's most beautiful - from the sea.

Tonight we rest in Southwest Harbor. As I write, Eric naps, David restrings the trampoline, and Katie nestles and reads. I have that sense of completeness and wholeness that comes when the house, I mean boat, is both quiet and full of life. I feel a mild embarrassment that, a midst all of this natural splendor, it is this moment, with us relaxing together in parallel, each in our own unique way, that is my most resonant. A family communicating with no need to talk, sharing with no need to touch, nurturing with no need to do; a natural treasure in its own right.