Cruising Sailing At It’s Finest:
A star studded cool night sleeping under a down comforter, on a quiet mooring in Belfast, at the head of the Penobscot Bay. It bills itself as “The Biggest Little City in Maine.” People have purported that Belfast is what Camden was like 40 years ago – welcoming, but not too shee-shee (sp?).
Dawn, today, brings a glorious late summer morning with gelatinous blue sky and warm sun. We go ashore early to shower and walk up the very quiet main street to Chases, a vegetarian bakery and farm produce enterprise which serves dinner on Friday and breakfast on Saturday and Sunday morning. We wait 45 minutes, but visit with our OCC friends who are on the mooring next to us in the harbor and then enjoy a long, leisurely, delicious breakfast with them.
At noon, we slip the mooring line and are now sailing east on a smooth sea with very gentle southwest winds. As we ghost along, the sounds of the water lapping at the hull are delicious and the warmth of the sun cuts the coolth of the breeze.
The top of Islesboro is, like most of the myriad islets dotting the Bay, dark green pines atop gray granite. The Camden Hills are gray green in the southwest and we can see the peaks of Mt Desert Island – Acadia National Park – above Castine and Cape Rosier in the east. Sunday afternoon and we are virtually alone. There are a few motor and sailboats in the distance. Sometimes the scenery and feel remind me of the Adirondacks of my childhood, but then we tooled around the lakes and pine forests in a 15 horsepower outboard on my grandfather’s wooden runabout.
We know the New York Yacht Club Summer Cruise of 100 plus boats is in Rockland, south of Camden, on the western shore. We saw a few of their monstrous yachts two nights ago outside Bucks Harbor, as we quickly passed them to anchor away from the madding crowd in quiet and lovely Orcutt Cove. So, we know there are people in the Penobscot Bay, but right now we feel the pleasure of being where we have it almost all to ourselves.
Post Script To A Perfect Day:
The wind picked up and we sailed close hauled, heeled well over, cutting through the flat seas at over 6 knots, directly to the entrance to the Holbrook Island.anchorage. We are now anchored in a cove between Holbrook Island and Cape Rosier, just off little Ram Island in the middle of the cove. Far off in the distance, through the cut between the islands, we can see the large State of Maine, the Maine Maritime Academy’s training ship, docked in Castine harbor. Otherwise, we are alone, totally surrounded by dark green pine forests of the Holbrook Island Nature Preserve.