Carissimi!

We are currently at anchor in Northeast Harbor on Cross Island in Down East Maine. We have forests of pine trees at our bow and...tall radio towers that communicate with armed submarines on Cutler Peninsula at our stern, an interesting contrast in sceneries!

As I'm still gathering all my notes of the first couple of weeks we've been in Maine, please allow me to backtrack a bit. So, we stuck to our plan to leave the Caribbean after a year and a half spent there on Boundless and sail back to the States to spend the summer and fall sailing the US Eastern seaboard. You heard me. Leave the Caribbean. Let's observe a moment of silence. It was a reasonable decision, albeit not a lighthearted one - we must have averaged at least 2 second-guessing sessions per day since it was taken -. We didn't want to spend another hurricane season sitting tight in Grenada, as beautiful and familiar as she is, monitoring any sinister-looking developing weather system. The tropical hot summer (and its complimentary servings of bugs) was also a bit of a deterrent, even to a complete lizard like me. But mostly we needed a change of scenery and do a little more sailing without having to clear into a new country every time we'd arrive at a new place, as would be the case in the islands. Sailing the US East Coast, with all its beautiful destinations, would allow for that and for us to get vaccinated, which Neptune only knows when it was gonna happen in Paradise.

So for the last part of our stay in Antigua, aside from some more sailing in the "immediate neighborhood", including another visit to Barbuda to celebrate the Cap'n's 60th, and soaking up warm sun and turquoise waters, we focused on preparing for the passage: making sure all systems worked, fixed anything that needed fixing, provisioning (it is illegal to leave Antigua without adequate supply of fresh tuna steaks and ice-cream from Ari's Fish Shop and delicious mini-vegetable quiches from Cork and Basket in Falmouth Harbor), testing all the safety gear and getting a new anchor windlass installed in place of the old one that died on us right as we were dropping anchor in Deep Bay (for details about the shipping adventures of such windlass, go right here).

The Cap'n also connected with officer Troy Case at Customs & Border Patrol in Eastport, ME, the designated port of entry where we would re-enter the US, to advise of our intention to arrive by boat, get updated requirements and in general to "establish a relationship" in advance rather than just showing up "Hi, we're here!" and start everything from scratch. Officer Case was great to work with and it was a pleasure to eventually meet him in person. He made the boat inspection and all paperwork a breeze ("Just get rid of any citrus fruit!") and was pleased to see that a larger yacht was visiting the area: Boundless tied at the Eastport Visitors' Dock was definitely a sight, and several people walking by or driving by the pier took pictures. That was also part of the reasoning behind choosing Eastport as our first destination: it's very quiet, off the beaten track, just behind the corner of Canada and fishing and lobster boats are its main traffic. Everybody is super-friendly, no stripping-your-boat-bare for inspection, no attitudes... The other reason is that a passage from Antigua to Eastport is about 1,800 nautical miles pretty much on a straight line, a relatively uncomplicated sail, at least in theory, and with limited exposure to the Gulf Stream which, in certain conditions, can present some challenges. And let's see, I'm sure there was another reason... Lobster, of course!! The season had just closed in the islands and was about to open in Maine...

As crew for the passage, we were set to do it just the two of us, but at the last moment Laura Leigh, who was onboard for the passage from St. Simon's Island, GA, to Halifax in '19, was able to join us, which was great. Even just one extra person is a big help with the night watches. Also, all three of us being US nationals, we met the most important requirement for entering the country on a boat without a hassle.

The passage: ugh...passages. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of folks out there who love the entire experience or, love the good parts (days of endless views of ocean and horizon, the wind in your hair, the feeling of freedom as the boat cuts - or crawls, as the case may be - through the waves, the joy of the voyage, this is what the old sea explorers must have felt like, etc.) and cope with the rest, kudos to them. However I remain convinced that even when done in the most perfect conditions passages are one of the ways the universe gets back at you for any bad karma you may have spread in your previous lives. Because why would an otherwise mentally sane individual decide, of his or her own volition, to live inside a washing machine for days without even getting to pick the cycle? No worries, I know the answers... and lest this paragraph turn into a roast of a passage that was actually very good, let's move right along.

The Cap'n picked a good weather window to leave and cross to Maine in one shot (one back-up plan had us dropping anchor in Bermuda for a night or so if the weather got... funny). There was no equally good window after that, we would have had a lot of strong winds close hauled, and as we know, gentlemen don't cruise to windward. The passage was busy! We were on a reach most of the way but we did a fair amount of sail handling and trimming, due to variable wind strengths, It took us 8.5 days to get from Falmouth Harbour to Eastport (5-31 to 6-8) and we averaged 8.75 knots, starting with a 240 mile day right out of Antigua. A few things broke, misbehaved, or generally demanded attention underway, each in its own unique way. For example, our port running backstay snapped loose from the cleat it was stored on and it took about a half hour to get it back. It was flapping pretty high over the boat and we worried it might end wrapped around something important. The Cap'n tried grabbing it with a boat hook first, but it was way out of his reach. Eventually, by tacking and falling way off the wind, the backstay "came down" enough that I could grab it. I was shouting in triumph like after winning a game of Ring Toss, but without getting the teddy bear prize. The first reef clew line also broke and had to be fixed involving bringing the mainsail down and getting into the end of the boom, and then putting big blocks back on the new sail's reef points that we saved from the old sail. Feeling a need to be part of the drama, during a gust in the high 20s and a big wave, our auto-pilot lost it and the helm did a big turn off course, but quickly caught and no damage. A good old restart seemed to fix it. Never a dull moment! During this passage (although it's true of him in every passage), except obviously while getting some sleep off watch, the Cap'n was running around like the nautical version of the Energizer Bunny. I swear at one point I thought I saw him in different places, at the same time, doing different things...a singularity! Good thing I was only taking Dramamine, not Scopolamine... On top of all that, earlier in the passage a stray booby "camped" one night on Boundless trying to balance himself on our railings while the wind wasn't being too gentle. We didn't see it the next morning, and we all hoped he was eventually able to make its way home somehow, as we were very far from land at that point! On a more epicurean note, thanks to the excellent Antiguan provisioning, meals onboard were great, fulfilling and varied. We even grilled fish one night! Though we were mostly going too fast to catch any.....

Later in the passage, the cooler temperatures outside, the different angle of the sun, the blanket of northern stars at night, the thick fog off our bow as we were crossing Georges Bank - we were able to catch a short glimpse of a couple of dolphins - we heard them breathing before we could actually see them - were more unmistakable signs that... we weren't in the tropics anymore. Aside from a small fishing fleet in that same area, there was absolutely no one but us. For almost the entire passage we didn't see one sailboat, one motor boat, anything. Only towards the very end we saw a couple of tankers. It felt a touch... different, yes, but frankly... not so bad, after months of having to share space with bare boaters... ok, sorry for my meanness. Did I also mention that the Gulf Stream didn't seem to want to let us go? It looks like an eddy caught us and shook us around a while before we finally sailed clear.

But long story short (just kidding), one lovely afternoon we finally took a right into Grand Manan Channel - we could see the soft profiles of Grand Manan Island in the mist on starboard - made a left into Head Harbour Passage leaving Campobello Island and East Quoddy Head to port and got into Eastport, as we deeply inhaled big wafts of warm air mixed with an amazing scent of pine trees which we hadn't really expected, all topped up by the pink glow of a sunset that seems to never end in the much longer-lasting daylight of the north. Welcome to Maine!

We tied at the Visitor's Dock with the skilled help of Lynn, Laura's partner, who had come to pick up our bold crew woman and check the area with the occasion She and Laura helped us out a lot with our more immediate after-passage to-do list, and were a lot of fun to hang out with!

Okeydoc, I think I'm gonna wrap it up here, as I'm bordering "War and Peace" lengths and don't want to make you fall asleep. As I work on the next entry, feel free as usual to visit our Picture Gallery, check the Map to see exactly where we are and, for immediate gratification, you can always check us out on Instagram. A presto and Happy Father's Day to all you Dads out there!