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Well
here it is, the nonsense some of you seem to have been waiting for. It’s
been a very strange two months since we left the sunny shores of Florida
and as we sit in Maine’s fog or rain laden weather it feels a sort of
poetic justice for our complaints about the heat. But as usual I get ahead
of myself. The ride up the Gulf Stream was a mixture of frustration and wonderment. The latter came from our speed over the ground as with very light winds and hardly a sound we rattled along at 7 or 8 knots. For a number of days a brightly coloured fish that kept station off our port quarter accompanied us. Bee discovered it when, leaning over the side to wash a cup, it suddenly rose from the depths to investigate. Bee, who hasn’t been the same about the sea since she saw Jaws as a child, leapt backwards whilst me and Toots looked on in silent amusement…. Day after day the fish followed, sometimes disappearing for a few hours but faithfully reappearing later on. Until that is the water began to drop in temperature and then it was gone. We should have paid attention to the omens………. But
when the winds came it was from ahead and course changes were regular as
we attempted to work our way north to Maine and the Penobscot Bay. Our log
shows a lot of engine use, slow sailing and a dramatic change in
temperature. ‘Bloody Freezing’ makes its appearance in the log for the
first time in ages and the doubts began to set in…….. We started to
experience bits of gear failure too as lines frayed and things in general
began to tire. But we saw our first whale blowing in the distance and then
one night off the Boston shipping lane we clearly heard whales calling to
each other. A magic moment as we crept through a light fog keeping clear
of the lane. Later on our Navtex we saw a message that endangered Northern
right whales had been seen in the vicinity of the lane and that mariners
should avoid them by five hundred yards. As
the days progressed we took the decision to call into Provincetown, Mass.
and arrived in a rising wind, freezing rain and an exposed anchorage.
Getting the anchor down we rushed to set up the chimney only to find the
cap that stops the sea pouring down the exposed hole had rusted to the
fitting. A desperate twenty minutes followed as we hammered, levered and
pried. As ever Bee persevered and claimed success and minutes later smoke
could be seen above the deck of Hannah. Within an hour the boat had begun
to dry out as the heat took effect and morale picked up. We stayed in
‘P’ town as its called for a week, having taken eleven days to sail up
fro Florida, rested and shopped and enjoyed the place. People we have
subsequently met ask us what we thought of the place as its deemed the gay
capital of the east coast and it was unlike any other place we had
visited in that it appeared to be an eclectic mixture of very arty, coffee
shops and bizarre army and navy stores featuring second world war
uniforms, china from the era of steam ships and general tut. Ben ‘n
Jerry’s ice cream had a store that also sold T-shirts – Bee’s
favourite- ‘Body by Ben and Jerry’s’ By
now the pace of our life had slowed down considerably. We knew we had
about six weeks before we headed out of Halifax so we set off for
Penobscot Bay, reputed to be some of sailing on the Maine coast. But it
was not to be as on the second day out we had a couple of hours that
tested us. Whilst in ‘P’town we had managed to snap the alternator
bracket and had effected a temporary repair. We had hoped it might last
longer than it did. We concocted a temporary to the temporary and then
whilst negotiating a mass of lobster floats off Monhegan Island with a
squall looming we screwed up the reefing and had to work bloody hard to
extricate ourselves from the mess. ‘course whilst all this was going on
the squall passed leaving us knackered, under canvassed and far from our
beds. And in between all this the cooker spewed kero all over the floor
cos the control knob had been knocked as we removed the engine cover. But
as we crept toward Rockland, having decided to stop for a while, we
enjoyed the peacefulness of the sail and as we closed the headland we were
assailed by this heady mixture of heat and pine welcoming us to Maine.
Rockland is a massive harbour and we enjoyed it’s benefits for another
week or so. We got the bracket repaired, bought twelve hundred feet of
rope to replace our running rigging, heaps of other bits and pieces, met
some great people and eventually tore ourselves away to head up to Camden.
About fifteen miles away…… Boy we couldn’t believe our luck. A sail
that didn’t involve a night out of bed. We could get used to this……. We
found Camden a bit of a disappointment, twee and self important it lacked
any reality and we left after
a day for a six mile journey to a state park. The Warren state park is
open for half the year, has a warden called Sunshine – only in America
– who lives in a cabin and was peaceful. Whilst there Bee read a
pamphlet about Belfast, thought it sounded interesting and we made it our
next port. Another easy sail but with a beat to finish saw us into the
harbour.
The view from Hannah, houses line the banks of Belfast and the fog is just beginning to creep into the river…… Exposed
to the Sth. it isn’t a brilliant anchorage but the people have been
amazing and seemed to have adopted us. Robin, who makes custom boots for
people started the whole thing off and was the one who floated the idea of
staying on this side of the pond. We began to make tentative enquiries,
found it was feasible although the weather can be brutal and took the
decision after a lot of discussion, tears and mind changing to come out of
the water and get as much as possible done and then go back in and perhaps
head out to Nova Scotia/Labrador before settling down for six months of
hell. Still we think about what could have been, the people we would have
seen, the advice we could get and Bee will probably fly home in a month or
two, catch up with everyone and stock up on Marmite. Logistically it makes
sense to stay this side but emotionally we were set to make that turn into
the Itchen and see the familiar sights of what we feel to be home. In the short time we have been here we’ve been offered work, the free use of a mooring buoy, the use of vehicles, the use of a house-from someone we had met briefly the day before- and invites to meals, showers and parties. We’re currently looking to buy a camper van to go see some of the country once the winter sets in. We were tempted by a converted school bus but the mileage of nine to the gallon, even at two dollars a gall made it expensive to run. Two dollars a gallon strikes the American public as outrageous and learning that UK prices are probably three times that renders them silent.
Our current home and a rarity-no fog or rain in sight. Our spars can be seen covered by a green tarp. So
here we are, sat in the Belfast Boatyard owned by a laid back Alex Tucker.
At this time of the year the yard is relatively quiet as owners are
looking to enjoy a very short season. Some keep their boats in the water
for six weeks before taking them out again………. We
propped up on the hard, partially encased in a green tarp, spars off,
having enjoyed a Maine record of three days warm weather in a row. We woke
in the early hours to the familiar sound of rain drumming off the tarp.
Hence I sit here, writing this up in Robin’s Boot shop whilst selling
leather goods to yanks on holiday and writing up the shop accounts whilst
Bee paints the interior of Hannah. A new colour scheme for this climate
and if we ever managed to get finished we’ll treat you all to some
snaps. It feels odd to realise we’ll be in
the same place for the next six months or so. OK we will possibly
be roaming in a camper but the experience of raising your anchor and
heading for a fresh destination is a wonderful feeling. The last time
involved moving to a buoy that had been loaned to us, a distance of two
hundred yards but the feeling was still there. Ah well.
to
Thanks
to everyone for your kind comments following the news we were not yet
returning. The messages have been touching, remarking on our sanity and
lack of knowledge of the winter for these parts or rather sadly pointing
out that the bath water will be cold by the time we get back………… Next
instalment Thelma and Louis hit the road………….. |
