Waiting for my flight from Portland back to Key West, I contemplate the past three weeks in Maine. It’s starting to feel normal, this thing that we’re doing; moving our home from place to place.

Once we left Provincetown, MA. We crossed the Stellwagen bank towards Casco Bay in Maine. We had a nice downwind blow, and Caprivi came across her first fin whales feeding on the banks upwelling. The sunset was quickly met by the sunrise as we then navigated our way through our first islands of Maine. 

We were invited to moor on a friend of Harbor Marines’ mooring in Yarmouth, alongside a fleet of neighborhood boats at nubbin point. It was before our arrival that we spotted Peter sailing his trimaran in the 18 knots, zipping right past us with one hull well in the air. We met at his oceanfront house for pizza, and dipped in the waters before the sun went down. We proceeded the next day touring the city of Portland, which mostly involved food, and then organising more food the next day – specifically a feast of lobsters with other boat people who were in town.

North we tacked our way out of Casco bay and onwards to the outer islands, first of which was named Sequin. On our approach to the small cove we could see the few masts swaying over the rocky outcrop. The cabled anchorage didn’t allow use of our own tackle, so we reluctantly picked up the last mooring being the Coast Guard’s rather large, rusty metal can. Ben got the lifejackets out and wrapped them around the mooring, as well as rigged the reaching strut and dingy on the bow to protect it from hitting the metal, it was a little comical. Surprisingly I took another dip in the breath-taking, in the literal sense, waters to rinse off the day’s accumulation. 

Sequin is a small picturesque island with the lighthouse being one of the last nine with a first-order Fresnel lens on the eastern seaboard. We got an up close tour and met the seasonal caretakers. The next morning we had a local elder dingy into the cove pronouncing he had just donated 100 USD to the non-profit who takes care of the moorings – how generous. He proceeded to ask about Caprivi and then told us of one his favourite spot not far from here. Sequins’ cove faced in an assuming sheltered bay from the prevailing southwesters, however, the Kennebec river mouth a few miles north created an ever-so slight swell that kept us more awake than not. So we decided to pick up and sail an entire 7nm to Damariscove Island, the old mans’ spot. 

We had a quick peak at the charts to figure out the small cove. It happened to be a precariously long and narrow inlet with shallow depths, not to mention the 10ft tides. We were a little nervous. We lucked out with one of the two free moorings available and secured a stern anchor to limit the movement of the boat. I’m unsure if water would have allowed us to swing around at low tide. Once settled, we explored the small island trails and met some new people. The next day was a perfect Saturday, the locals came by small craft to enjoy the island for a few hours. Boats swung all around us, some even coming loose. It was a scene to watch but an enjoyable one. The caretakers of the island, Scott and Aiko, spent a decade of their lives in Zimbabwe so we reminisced a little about our African tales. 

Once we committed to cruising Maine, it was in order to organise our next and hopefully final boat projects before departing the U.S. One being our standing rigging, and the other painting the bottom. We met with a rigger in Southport to assess our needs and lined things up for September. It’s an expensive project but one that holds up a 64ft piece of metal through and above our home and is responsible for taking the forces we and nature ask of it. 

Onwards to Boothbay harbour, we sailed inland through Townsend Gut and waited for our first swingbridge to open. The day was glorious and we were still on a high from finally being out sailing – it had been a long time coming. The area takes you through the backyards of peoples homes, each having their own dock and boats moored outside. I think by land it may be quite difficult to get to, and experience the water here in Maine due to the privatisation of the coastline. We anchor in 25ft at low around the corner from the busy harbour of Boothbay, and check out the town as the sun is setting. 

We bump into Tom, whom we knew from Key West, as he was searching for the dock showers. He and his crew were on their way north, or downeast to participate in the Eggemoggin Reach Regatta with Hesper, the English pilot cutter that he charters. In a moment of time, we were invited to attend the race. The next day from Tenants Harbor, we decided to make the journey through the Fox and Deer Island thoroughfares of Penobscot Bay towards Woodenboat, where the race would be held. 

The seas were calm as we motored for the day’s journey, dodging lobster pots galore. Once we dropped down at the edge of the anchorage, the next few hours we watched as boat after wooden boat arrived with their crew. It was a joy to witness the craftsmanship and care that goes into the traditional boat building.

After dinner, we found Hesper and spent the rest of the evening on board with her crew. Light winds had made for a slow race but what a day to be on the water and among the array of boats. We retired from the shortened race to ensure we would get back for the bbq feast and before the onset of fog. We also got to see Renata who was crewing on the famous Ticonderoga. She kindly gave us a tour of the classic 72’ ketch, very cool, and to catch up with her! 

This happened to be our first Maine fog. It came in gradually as people were still swimming and boats sailing through the anchorage back to their spots, some with their shoots still up. Then it came in thick. We had a few minutes in the dingy where we couldn’t find where we left Caprivi. The day ended in a huge feast and the sounds of a local rock band. A lot of fun was had!

We had the next few days to meander back to the western mainland of Penobscot bay, where I would soon fly back to Key West for my U.S. citizenship.