Carissimi!

Welcome again to sailing, the lifestyle that teaches you a very important lesson: never drink a cappuccino with a lot of foam on top facing windward when it blows 20 knots.

We are currently anchored in Long Island's Oyster Bay, to wait out hurricane Henri. It looks like we are out of the tropical force winds zone but we'll keep our eyes open while staying nice and tucked in. We came here after spending a quiet night in Westbrook CT, where we motored to from Portsmouth RI, two days ago. In Portsmouth we spent a week at Hinckley Shipyard for Part 2 of the Boundless Summer 2021 Projects Collection. And before Portsmouth, we wrapped up our Maine cruise with two exciting weeks doing Part 1 of the above projects at Front Street Shipyard in Belfast. There, now you're all up to date!

The biggest project, in Belfast, was a full navtronics (navigational electronics) refit of which la pièce de résistance is a brand new Furuno chart plotter including a state-of-the-art touch screen and capabilities reaching above and beyond your traditional chart plotter: it can even play music from our devices and, with some persuasion, double as food replicator.

Pulling, cutting, connecting and disconnecting various wires and cables, usually from inside compartments the type of which would make a contortionist happy - was a key feature of this project. Some of the wires were bundled in such a way to earn the title of "Overcooked Spaghetti Art"; others didn't connect to anything at either end. These and more peculiar findings have added extra-spice to it all.

The Cap'n began planning for this project more than a month ago while we were still hanging out at anchor off stunning granite rock islands drowned in evergreens. He updated Boundless' old electronic diagrams, ordered all the parts in advance, talked to the Furuno people to fill in his knowledge gaps...The groundwork payed off as he was able to do 70% of the job himself and the contractor he had hired only had to help pull wires and do the wires terminations. At completion, only half-jokingly did the contractor offer the Cap'n a job in his organization...

In the meantime, your Friendly Narrative Manager has been doing some interior cleaning, laundry, running errands in town, including visits to such specialty stores as Eat More Cheese and Vinolio ('nuff said) and pulling carts piled high with packages - think Leaning Tower of Pisa in corrugated cardboard - mostly items we had shipped here in advance of our arrival, from the yard stockroom to the boat.

I also helped the Cap'n with some of the more elementary tasks of the navtronics project, specifically none that could prompt me to say, "Ok, I cut the blue wire! Or was I supposed to cut the red one?". I'm actually very good at tool handing, like during surgery: "Scalpel!" "Scalpel." "Phillips head screwdriver" "Phillips head screwdriver" "One tall vanilla latte, one macchiato!" "One tall vanilla latte, one macchiato.", etc.

When emerging from the rabbit hole at the end of the day, we've occasionally strolled along the waterfront to one of the restaurants in the vicinity for a lobster roll, a peak at the Tokyo Olympics on a large screen and the excellent ice-cream from Wild Cow Creamery, (travelers beware: kitchens close at 8pm!). On nice, warmer evenings, I've enjoyed sitting on deck at sunset playing mini-guitar concerts, to the enthusiastic reception (well, let's not get carried away) of some of our neighbors at the dock.

Maine is goygeous...when you can actually see it: man, how foggy it gets at times! Of course fog can be visually magical, for instance when it lets out first one, then two, then many delicate tendrils to gradually cover land and water, or when it slowly lifts up like a diaphanous stage curtain to reveal the solid shape of a lighthouse. But once it swallows everything around you it can feel, well, a little heavy on the soul. Nothing that a mug of Swiss Mix Dark Hot Chocolate won't cure, mind you, but still.

Sailing (and a lot of motoring) in fog has been tiring and, at times, disorienting - objects on the water at a distance can appear distorted in size and it's hard to pinpoint the source of a sound over the water, among other things - but avoiding lobster traps has posed quite the challenge (second only to big tidal ranges and swift currents). Being grateful consumers of the delicious bug it wouldn't be fair to complain too much, but Maine waters can be an expanse of traps whether along the coast, in the harbors, even way off the coast in open ocean and at considerable depths!

Painted in vivid hues that should make them easier to spot in the fog (ha!) the trap floats on the surface can be a cheerful view at first. Hot color combinations this Summer include fuchsia pink and lime green, heliotrope tips on lemon yellow, and even the stylish silver on black for the discerning fisherman. Stay well away from these "eye candies" and don't get your props fouled in their lines, otherwise the last one in the freezing water with a wetsuit and a knife is a rotten egg. Boundless' shallow draft and great maneuverability are an advantage, especially dodging traps spaced narrowly between each other. We can also let the floats pass in the space between the two hulls if all else fails. Some traps can go unnoticed till the last moment because hidden just under the water surface. It's the case of the "lurkers", lost traps often with a partly decayed float covered in seaweed, which usually get you as you're still basking in the glory of just having successfully dodged fifty traps in a row...

We've met some great fishing crews along the way, and it's been interesting to see them in action on their powerful boats and learn more about their operations. In Cutler, authentic Down East Maine fishing town, we began by exchanging compliments with the local fishermen about each other's vessels ("Great rig!") and ended being allowed to use one of the local boats empty mooring for a few nights. The main outfit in Cutler is run by one family who owns the town wharf and a boat building business. The place was busy with the loading and unloading of the precious catch, sent up the wharf with a hydraulic elevator, and delivered to trucks for distribution. We learned that eight hundred traps are allotted to each boat in Maine (and there's a ton of boats!) and we were given four "it doesn't get any fresher than this" lobsters as a welcome gift!

We were always willing to buy lobsters but on another occasion, in South Addison, we actually got 7 lbs of them in exchange for a tour of Boundless for the owner of the lobster boat and his daughter. We even thought of putting a sign outside advertising free tours of our cat in exchange for fresh lobster and it definitely reminded us of when we were given plenty of fresh cod by locals up in Newfoundland. Finally, we learned that lobster boat races are a thing. We were tempted to go check one out but it turns out they are just slightly less interesting than curling, so we bailed.

In many ways Maine reminded us of Nova Scotia and Newfoundland: its scenery and weather, the remoteness of certain areas, the welcoming people, fishing as the main occupation... If you look at our Map page and zoom in or out as needed you'll see we've "zigzagged" from Passamaquoddy to Penobscot Bay along a fascinating coast rich in islands, islets, rivers, insets, bays and quiet harbors. Here are some highlights of the cruise, in any category and no particular order.

Playing with the water: letting Boundless play around the Old Sow whirlpools off Deer Island in the Western Passage of Passamaquoddy Bay, during their "milder" manifestations, was exhilarating. Wheeeeeee!

The wildlife: what a treat! Majestic bald eagles perched on top of spruce trees, loons with their melancholic call, razorbills, ospreys, cormorants, harbor porpoises, seals... Seals put a big smile on your face. If you stay at anchor in the same spot for a few days they'll start getting used to you and swim closer to check you out (they'll do that from a distance too as they are very curious). You'll hear them breathing first and then see the cutest bobbing heads and shiny black eyes, like the glass marbles we used to play with as kids, pointed straight up at you. Fast yet graceful in their motions, they'll leap out of the water and plunge in again as a silver burst indicates a school of small fish trying to... get the heck out of the seals' way! Cormorants also can offer amusement: I saw one catching a rather large fish and its long neck literally taking the shape of said fish as the bird kept pushing it farther down its throat trying to swallow it. Obviously the cormorant had done this before, as the operation was successful.

Hikes: one of our favorite Maine hikes was Cutler's Eastern Knubble Preserve, with trails winding in silent fairy tale-woods, thick moss covering the exposed roots of ancestral trees and, out of nowhere, huge openings onto beaches of pebbles and driftwood. And flowers everywhere: Queen Anne's lace, daisies, dogwood, beach roses ...

Roque Island: we definitely wanted this island, the star of a pretty archipelago in Englishman's Bay, to be one of our destinations not only because it's a sailing tradition but because, fun fact, the Cap'n flew us over it (see picture in the Gallery) many years ago when he had a private pilot license. This H-shaped Island has a tropical, one-mile long white beach on which you are allowed to land and walk, it's privately owned since the early 1800s and is a self-sufficient farm.

Mistake Island: "With a name like Schmucker's it has to be good". The island makes up for its...not-so-inviting name by providing a peaceful and protected anchorage where you are free to release your inner hermit (only the occasional lobster boat will come by to check its pots), enjoy prolonged looks at the wildlife and enchanting sunsets. A short dinghy ride away, the stroll to the island's Moose Peak Light, with plenty of ocean views and textured granite formations is very pleasant.

Granite: did you know that the largest pieces ever cut in Maine were the shafts for eight columns of the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine in New York? Its industry may have known highs and lows, but Maine's granite has always been widely known and appreciated. We saw one quarry in Burnt Coat Harbor on Swan's Island, where the granite rocks hang over a fresh water pool. We must have hit it at "seagulls bathing time" as flocks of seagulls kept diving in and out, giving themselves a thorough spa and flying away to dry. And of course pink granite, offset by deep green conifers is "the look" in most of Maine.

Bar Harbor: Back in "civilization"! Lots of boats! People! Tourists! Acadia National Park! Mount Desert! Fourth of July fireworks! And a very interesting visit to the Abbe Museum, where we learned about the Native American Abenaki Nations, a confederacy of which 10,000 people currently live in Maine and that consists of four federally recognized tribes: Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, Micmac, and Maliseet. It was a truly immersive experience and at times it felt as if the members of the tribes themselves were telling about their history and culture, not only their beautifully displayed works (particularly attractive were objects done in quillwork, including vegetable-shaped baskets). We enjoyed listening to audio samples of the four languages and we later joked with the Cap'n that, the same way we say Spanish is poorly spoken Italian, Passamaquoddy is just poorly spoken MicMac. Then we spent some time practicing how to pronounce Passawassaquakeag (name of local river).

Sorrento: blame it on the widespread fascination with that famous part of the Italian coast all you want but if you have a Naples in Florida, you just got to have a Sorrento in Maine. How did it get to "Sorrento" from "Waukeag Neck", its original name, is unclear, but it's reasonable to assume that whoever wanted to add to the harbor's image that of a low-key elegant resort with stunning sunset views was looking for something a little...catchier. Refraining from singing "Torna a Surriento" as we were scouting this delightful spot as a place to wait out hurricane Elsa was difficult... (we eventually picked Flanders Bay instead as it had more room, no boats, no moorings, no lobster pots).

Swan's Island: taking its name from Colonel James Swan, probably not the wisest speculator history has known, this large island is another one of Maine's gems. We spent a couple of days at anchor in Burnt Coat Harbor, at times sharing room with one or more of the beautifully restored windjammers part of Maine's fleet of actively sailed historical vessels that today run charters almost anywhere along the coast of Maine. We bought our last couple of fresh lobsters here, had a nice ride on Achilles Novus, our recently launched new dinghy (with electric starter and beach wheels, yay!) and matching heir to Achilles Vetus, connected with really nice and in-the-know people (see "New friends" below), but most important we endlessly picked raspberries from bushes on the side of the road. What an unexpected surprise and... what a flavor!

Devil Island and Hell's Half Acre: here are those crazy island names again...but no worries: no trace of the Devil nor did any soul-selling take place in this blissful spot in Penobscot Bay. We just chilled grokking the scenery and some porpoises even paid a visit for my birthday in July.

Portents(?): First, the biggest firefly I've ever seen, on our aft deck at night in Federal Harbor emitting an extra-bright green light, the only dash of color against the white of the fog. 2) A meteor, or "fireball" the night of July 30th that, with a "Whoosh!" and a long green-and-golden tail made an arch in the sky lighting it all up. I thought it was some rogue firework at first and it must have been part of the Aquariids meteor showers, which was peaking that weekend.

Things with blueberries: blueberry pancakes, blueberry ice cream, blueberry...cider! That was a new one for me, five stars.

Things we had to get re-used to: much longer daylight. Colder weather (we burned more fuel for the heaters than to motor! To be fair though, only July was actually the coldest/dampest month). Warm clothing. Not swimming.

New friends: for one reason or another, not the least Covid and my introverted personality, it's only relatively recently - and particularly in Maine - that our cruise turned into something a little more social. We really enjoyed (in no particular order or attribution):
- help, availability and pointers
- loaning of vehicles
- in-depth knowledge sharing and hospitality on Swan's Island
- yummy homegrown tomatoes and baked rosemary bread
- schlepping parts for us from the US
- or even simply the simpatia and fun chatting
Therefore, shoutouts go to: Pip & Judy, OCC port officers in Belfast, and Jeff & Christa on Agility; Jeff's daughter Jenna; Robin & Fort on Mo'orea (we actually met in Antigua but I hadn't got the chance to mention them yet); Russell & Lynn on Blue Highway running the OCC radio net; we hope to see you all again soon!

Ok, I'm getting signs that I should really wrap this up. Feel free to visit our Gallery or you can also check @boundlesscruise on Instagram for the occasional video or three. We've also now set up our Map so that it shows our updated position every night while daysailing, and every 2 hours on passage. Next in our plans is to sail back to the East Fork of Long Island and spend some quality time there, including, possibly, relaxing.

Be well, be safe from Henri if you're in the area, and thank you so much for your comments and emails!