Up Mid Coast & Down East Boothbay Rockland Camden Castine Bucks Hbr- SW Hbr NE Hbr & Bar Hbr SW Hbr

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SO LONG CAMDEN

We head out saying goodbye and thanks to the dock master for being so kind to us, and we take in our last glances of this wonderful place.  We head out counter clockwise, going with the flow of the organized harbor.  We passed the quaint old Camden Yacht Club and then Curtis Island Light perched on the little mound of a rocky island.  The schooners and windjammers left the day before so hopefully we’ll come across them during their travels the next few days.  Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to see them in full sail.

The day couldn’t be better.  It is sunny, bright and the seas are flat.  The sky is blue and filled with little white clumps of puffy clouds.  The wide expanse of the lobster pot filled Penobscot Bay is grand and the scattering of islands are inviting.  There’s only one tall mound to our left, and that is Camden Hills, the challenging hill that we climbed during our stay and were rewarded with a grand view overlooking this expanse that we are now cruising.  It’s a wonderful place and exciting to know that we’ll be exploring the area we’d always heard so much about, never dreaming, that one day we’d actually be here in our boat.

 

AN AREA WE DREAMED ABOUT, “DOWNEAST”

We’re are definitely now in what they call the real “Downeast” though we feel like we are heading further north, not east, and we still frequently and mistakenly say “heading north”.  We are actually heading along the coast, following the coast line to the East.  Today though we briefly and momentarily are going a short way north up West Penobscot Bay, passing the mainland to our port and Islesboro to our starboard and then we will begin our journey downeast. 

 

“OUTSIDERS” AND “THOSE FROM AWAY”

Islesboro is what seems to be the beginning of what we will soon see as an extreme contrast between lifestyles and that being between the rich “outsider” or “those from away” and the locals who can literally trace their roots here back hundreds of years to the very beginnings of early settlement and the days when cod flourished in these waters and survival and profit was the reason for coming.  Now we begin to read about a history of resentment towards the “outsiders” with their big city money, money from Boston and areas south, money that buys up their homesteads and cottages and increases the standard of living so high that they struggle to stay on their homeland.

 

MONEY MAKES THE WORLD GO AROUND

It’s rich money, a lot of money that makes it possible for these outsiders to come in and scrape off the cottages that have been there for generations and to replace them with flamboyant mansions which are merely second homes, just summer homes for those that can afford it.  This real estate trend and bonanza for the lucky few has been going on for years now and has created a severe rise in prices and a standard of living that has made it tough for the locals, those that have lived and worked these shores and waters for generations.  It’s a scenario that can be seen many places but what makes it especially distressful here is that it is threatening a lifestyle that has been preserved since the time this land was settled. 

Both lifestyles have come to terms with each other though and the two ironically have come depend on each other in a strange way.  The rich need the locals to keep up their mansions and provide services both when they are here in the summer and when they are gone in the winter and many of the locals have come to depend on that income to survive and which makes it possible for them not to have to move away.  It has been a long hard transition.  It’s been hard for these proud stubborn people who always had free access to their shore line to go clamming, lobstering and fishing and to now find that they can’t cross down to the shore over land and paths that they have for hundreds of years as now “no trespassing signs” and fences prevent them from getting to their lively hood.

The Mainers are a wonderful group of people, stubborn in their ways and independent in their thinking and I really enjoyed getting to know this about these people.  They come from a hearty stock of people like Brave heart, enduring terrible hardships to find a land they could own and work and enjoy a freedom they so desired.  They have a history that shows they are a fierce and stoic bunch.  This is going to be an interesting journey.

We pass by Islesboro who in particular is famous for this very scenario of contrasts and we wonder, if maybe we’ll see an out of place sight of a private 747 jet liner swooping down low, as John Travolta, a new resident, buzzes by his home on Isleboro and rattles the windows of all, just to excite his son as he sees his dad fly by.  This type of behavior and affluence contrasts severely with the hard working lobster men (and women) who are scratching out a living trying to hold on to what their families have owned for generations,  to preserve a tradition and lifestyle that has lasted for hundreds of years.   It’s  something well worth preserving. 

HOWLING ON THE BOW

We are overwhelmed by the beauty of the day, the expanse of the bay and the calm waters.  Ziggy and I can’t help it but go out onto the bow and soak up the warmth of the bright sun and show our appreciation by howling at the sky knowing no one can hear us. 

We make our starboard turn around the northern tip of Isleboro and are greeted by Dice Head Light to our portside, our welcoming beacon to our next stop Castine.   Castine is historically and strategically located near the base of the Penobscot River and has a colorful history that we soon will unknowingly discover which includes a mixed occupation over the last few hundred years by the British, Dutch, French and then the Revolutionists.  It’s history complicated and hard to keep track of but fascinating and is still to this day fresh in the minds of the the locals as they will be glad to tell you their version of it.   

 

 

 

GREETED BY THE STATE OF MAINE MERCHANT MARINE VESSEL

We slowly come around the point where the light house perches and head into Castine Harbor.  We pass several quaint cottages and inns that line the rocky shore back dropped by their multi colored evergreen forest.  We are surprised to see Maine’s Maritime Academy’s flagship study vessel, the STATE OF MAINE, boldly dominating the little town harbor.  It’s a huge merchant marine vessel and it over powers the quaint village.  We were really shocked to see something like her here in this little harbor.  We soon learned though during our stay that this vessel is by no means considered an eye sore by the village but a necessary part of the town.  They are very proud of it just as they are of the Maritime Academy.  It’s the town’s life’s blood. 

 

 

 

DENNET’S DOCK

We came around the merchant marine vessel and now could see Castine’s public dock and then Dennet’s Restaurant and Eaton’s boatyard beyond.  Larry made dock reservations at Dennet’s a few days ago.  The cruising guide seemed to favor Eaton’s but Larry decided on Dennet’s and in hindsight I think it was a good decision.  Dennet’s dock is the dock to Dennet’s Oyster Restaurant and has power and water so should be fine.   They have a bright yellow awning and across the front it says “Dennet’s Wharf Restaurant”.  The place was packed with people and the dock was full with little boats tied up to the dock, probably owned by the people that had come for lunch. 

 

I’m wondering if this is going to be a noisy place and maybe we won’t have any privacy with the restaurant peering over at us.  When Larry made our reservations he told them what time to expect us and as usual Larry is right on time.  We hailed them on the radio but no one answered.  We finally had to call them on the cell phone.  A woman answered and apologized for not answering the radio.  She said we’d have to wait until the boats cleared off the dock.  She said they were customer’s boats that were eating lunch and they should be gone pretty soon.   

We wondered what kind of deal this was going to be.  I now wondered why they would want a boat like ours to take up their dock for several days when that’s what their customers use.  I also wondered how they were going to like it when our boat blocked their diner’s view of the harbor.  I was beginning to wonder if this wasn’t a mistake and maybe they didn’t realize we were planning to stay here for several days.   Larry assured me that “No it wasn’t a mistake” and “Yes, we had a reservation”.  Larry told the lady that we’d hang out in the harbor and wait for the boats to clear.  I think it was about 1:00 PM. 

 

So we decided to make the most of it and cruise around the back part of nearby Smith Cove.  It’s supposed to be a nice anchorage.  Castine is not very built up like Camden.  The surrounding harbor is not heavily settled, just a sprinkling of houses.  The nearby anchorages are beautiful and quiet. 

After about 45 minutes we headed back to the town’s waterfront.  We watched through the binoculars to see if the dock was clearing but nothing seemed to be happening.  Finally after about an hour we decided we’d come in closer and just hover.  I guess that did the trick as everyone seemed to finish their lunches then and they all started to clear out in mass.   The tide by now was running a good clip and it was becoming a bit of a challenge to keep the boat in one place.  A sailboat nearby seemed to be waiting too and seemed to be having the same difficulties trying to stay in one place as we were.   Maybe he was waiting for a mooring assignment or dock space at Eaton’s.  We were both trying to avoid each other and a nearby red marker because it marked several nasty submerged rocks.  We were glad it was time to head in.    

 

BAR TENDER TOOK OUR LINES

We finally got the go ahead to come in and Larry maneuvered through the moored boats trying to keep her straight in the strong cross current.  As we got up beside the dock I threw a line to the guy on the dock.  He didn’t really seem to know what to do with it so I told him where to tie it and I then got on the deck to take care of the other lines.  I finally ended up having to tie his line as he just stood there and held it.  He then quickly disappeared.  We later realized he was the bar tende.  He had rushed back up to the bar as it was very busy.  We didn’t even have time to give him a tip.  We found the electrical and water outlets ourselves and plugged in and that was it.  There were no dock hands to help you get settled or tell you where things were, which was fine, I’m not complaining, just explaining the differences between places.  You were kind of on your own here because they were busy with the restaurant as that was the prime thing. 

 

SITTING OUTSIDE WITH ZIGGY AS USUAL

We were hungry and walked up the ramp to see if we could get some lunch and have a seat outside on one of the picnic benches.  They had an inside dining room and an outdoor deck which was very casual and we figured it’d be no big deal having Ziggy join us but after asking we were told “dogs aren’t allowed only on the back side deck by the outside bar and smoking area” and also I might add the trash cans.  Oh well, we’re used to that from lots of traveling with Ziggy and sometimes being treated like a second class citizen.  It was no big deal and we understood so we settled in to their very rustic wooden lounge chairs and ordered up two plates of fish tacos and a couple soft drinks. 

It was a funky place.  The bar area was decorated like a second hand shop.  There was all sorts of funky junk around for decoration.  The most interesting was the now defunct gondola sitting on the deck.  They had put a small table inside and it served as cocktail seating.  There were actual skis stuck in the holders on the outside.  There was also a strange plastic manikin head stuck on the railing with an old t-shirt stretched underneath like a scare crow.  Sometimes as we’d come and go in the evening hours it would startle me before I remembered what it was. 

Soon we heard the bar tender yell at us “your tacos are ready”.  Guess there’s no service to bring it to where you are sitting here either.  We barely could get up out of those rickety low chairs as they were very low to the ground and I did my best to get up as fast as I could without letting on old and crotchety I felt.  The taco plates were beautifully presented on the plate, much fancier than we expected and very tasty.  We scarfed them down as fast as we could and then obediently brought our dishes back to the busing area and paid. 

 

DENNET’S IS A POPULAR PLACE

Dennet’s is a very popular place and people come from all around to have lunch and dinner here.  It’s a fun atmosphere and we really enjoyed being here.  We never felt like we didn’t have our privacy and it wasn’t noisy, surprisingly, so we liked staying here a lot.  Right on our dock was a small kayaking operation and they were very quiet too and very considerate of us.  I was always curious wondering where they went as they did many night treks leaving at dark and not coming back that evening or if they did they were so quiet we never heard them.

 

DOLLARS ON THE CEILING

The inside of the restaurant is really neat.  Several nights we decided to make life easy and go right in to our dock restaurant for dinner.  The clouds had been building one day and the winds were picking up bringing a chill with them so we decided to eat inside instead of the deck by the boat.  What a surprise!  The place used to be an old sail making warehouse.  It’s looks pretty much the same with the same exposed rough wood walls and ceilings with rustic beams criss crossing the vaulted ceiling.  The ceiling was decorated with sailing flags and thousands of dollar bills nailed to the ceiling about 20 feet above.  It’s a crazy place and the food is pretty good.  We decided to sit at the bar and had a great time.

 

The dollar bills on the ceiling has become a tradition that the owner started a few years back.  Customers and locals as well, pin dollars on the ceilings and walls and when something comes up that they feel worthy and where the money could be well used, off the bills come and are quickly donated to whatever important cause it might be.  Following 9/11 the owners took down 15 years worth of dollars and donated it to the family of an elevator operator who died during the collapse of the Twin Towers.  More recently about $10,000 went to help provide housing for Katrina victims.  Now that’s a generous warm hearted group of people.

 

 

EXPLORING THE TOWN

After we got settled comfortably at the dock we decided a little walk was in order to see the town and give Ziggy a chance to stretch his legs.  We asked how to get out with the dog as he wasn’t allowed on the deck.  They pointed over to the service entrance back around past the trash cans and junk.  It was a bit tricky and scary at night but again it was fine.  That’s what it’s like traveling with a dog. 

We headed up the dirt rode to the public dock and Main Street of town.

 

PUBLIC DOCK

We immediately discovered this town is as cute as a bug.   It’s everything you have always imagined a picturesque town in Maine to be and more so.  The town or I should say, village, is off the main highway by about 20 miles I think.  One local said, “People go to Camden or they head to Bar Harbor.  If someone comes here it’s done on purpose because it’s out of the way.  That makes it special and has preserved it.”  I think I agree and you will too after reading about this little place. 

 

The public dock is so quaint and is the meeting place for everyone.  It over looks the harbor, the huge State of Maine mother ship (as I like to call her) and many other vessels owned by the Academy which are all docked near the merchant marine vessel.  There’s a big ole’ tug and an ole schooner.  The beautiful schooner is called Bowdoin and has retired to this place after many years of service exploring the artic.  It is said that the academy has over 90 boats of all types but they must be scattered in other places as we don’t see them all here. 

 

“THE BREEZE” and their FLUFFERNUTTERS

There’s a cute little crab shack right by the public dock called “The Breeze”.  It’s busy all day long serving up a multitude of things; way beyond what I would think could possibly come out of a shack that little and they also serve a darn good cup of fresh coffee for only $1.07.  They have things on the menu with funny names of which we had no idea what they were.  Things like a toasted “fluffernutter”, which we were told was toast with melted peanut butter and marshmallow melted on top.  They swore it was the best thing you’ll ever eat.  People would usually grab something to eat from The Breeze and then find a spot at one of the nearby picnic tables overlooking the harbor.  You could enjoy your lunch and watch as all the boats come and go all day long.  

The public dock has several picnic tables and benches.  Some of the tables are under a small roof covered area and always perched on the top is the resident seagull that is hugely fat from all the free snacks.  He just sits up there like he owns the place watching and squawking at everything and everybody.  The public dock is a great place to be and locals and visitors find themselves coming down to the public dock once a day just to see what’s happening.

 

MAIN STREET

Main Street starts and ends at the public dock.  It’s a steep walk up from the dock but you are drawn and rewarded by a very inviting glimpse of the charming old store fronts.  The old brick and wood buildings are busy with people coming and going.  There are a couple stores filled with interesting collections of items, dishes, nick knacks, art, and books by local authors.  The busiest place though is the Variety Store on the corner.

 

VARIETY STORE

The Variety Store is the center of town activity probably since this place was settled.  The entry door opens right off the corner of where the two main streets meet.  On the outside is a huge banner saying “Voted Maine’s Best Lobster Role”.  The minute you step up on those old wooden steps you know this is going to be a special experience.  Ziggy and I climbed up the old warn wooden steps and I tried to peer in but having Ziggy with me, I could only stick my nose in. Some local character, quite wide in the girth, struggled up the steps, huffing and puffing, and I quickly moved out of his way.  He kind of grunted a “hello” and then waddled in, dressed in a blue work jump suit.  He must work nearby at the Academy. I could see he was headed for the soda fountain counter for lunch.  Larry took Ziggy so I could go in and check it out. 

 

IT’S THE REAL DEAL

It’s a real old general store and in the back is a real old soda fountain.   There’s nothing contrived or new about this place.  It’s the real deal.  The ceilings are high and still decorated with authentic tin stamped ceiling tiles.  The counter was wooden and nicked and worn with time and the same old counter stools were there, some leaning to one side or the other, but just the same, all occupied.  Behind the counter was a make shift kitchen which would never pass any sanitation codes that I know of.  Things were stored in an old household refrigerator and a microwave was the mode of heating except for an old electric skillet that took care of frying.  There were a million papers tacked all over the walls and files piled everywhere.  They had an old fashioned cash register at the end of the counter that still functioned serviceably.  All the locals seemed to have cards in the ledger or file box and everything was added to their tab.  Everyone knew each others names and what they liked to eat and drink.  It was also a place to catch up on the local gossip.   

There were some real characters sitting at the counter which only seats about 5 people.  One old guy was eating something that God only knows what the heck it was as it looked like chopped up orange Jell-O with milk on it.  Another old weathered and bearded guy was drinking a cup of coffee or hovering over it like he really needed it.  Maybe he had a rough night the night before.  Another character came in and picked up an order to go and the woman behind the counter asked “you want it in the book?”  He said “yea”.  She pulled out an old worn leather ledger book and flipped through the worn edges and found his page and marked a new entry on his charge tab. 

A lady looking like an “outsider” like me had been milling around trying to take it all in too.    “Your lobstah roll is ready lady.”  She picked up her lobster roll in a white Styrofoam box that the woman behind the counter handed her.  The lady opened the lid and checked inside and saw it had a plastic fork and bag of chips on the side of the big fat lobster roll wrapped in wax paper.  She grabbed a few napkins out of the old fashioned metal napkin holder and left. 

One day, during our stay, I came back and like her, put in my order for a lobster roll.  How could you not try “the best lobster roll in all of Maine” or so it said on a huge banner on the outside of the store?  I sat on the stool next to the old fashioned register and waited as she filled my order.  That same guy that was here before was still hovering over a cup of coffee.  This time he grunted a “hello” at me and then said to the woman behind the counter, something that I couldn’t understand, and she immediately pulled out some plastic zip lock packets.  On the outside of each one, written in black marker, was a different name.  She pulled out his and inside were lotto tickets.  He tossed her twelve bucks and she ran some new tickets through the lotto machine and put them in his plastic zip lock and put them back in the slot where she stored them like she must do everyday for him and many others.

The two working behind the counter obviously owned the place.  They were a couple of characters too.  They must be in their early forties.  They have this store down pat.  Stuck on the wall, written on paper plates were the specials for the day.  One was egg salad sandwich for $4.50.  The guy in the back prepares all the food and she runs the counter and cash register.  I hear someone ordering the “special”.  I see the “cook” pull out a big metal bowl covered in saran wrap and filled with gobs of egg salad.  He grabs a bread roll out of a bag and it’s the familiar New England bread roll which is a modified hot dog bun, kind of squared off.  He digs his big spatula into the egg salad and leverages a big clump egg on the spatula and then slams it on the bun like a pro, and VIOLA, egg salad sandwich! 

On the wall behind him are file folders and papers and just lots of stuff.  It looks like stuff that has accumulated over the years and no one has ever bothered to look at it anymore.  There was stuff like that everywhere and not the stuff you would typically find in a kitchen.  The health inspector must not make the 20 miles out of the way off the main highway to get here to check on things is all I can say, though I’m not saying it wasn’t clean, it was just that they had so much stuff that you couldn’t wipe down and disinfect.  Where we come from there are so many rules and regulations.  Everything has to be antiseptic beyond reality, including floor and surface materials, etc.  It was really fun to see this place and how it really worked.

I walked around the old worn wood floors and looked at what else they had to offer.  The walls near the front were lined with old out of date video rentals, each filed with little pieces of paper alphabetizing them.  There were the typical chips and snacks, candy, and then the soda pop in refrigerators with glass door fronts.  You could buy a hat with the store name on it. It had a little bit of everything.

CRESTON, IOWA ??

Larry was sitting outside the Variety Store with Ziggy and a few people were strolling around with name badges on.  Larry found out they were from one of the sailing scooners anchored in the bay.  Asking where they were from He heard CRESTON, Iowa.   Hay that Larry's home town & they lived up the street from His boyhood home on Spruce Street.  He was a retired Doctor that had move to Creston after Larry left.  Small world.

 

ZIGGY BECAME THE SEEING EYE DOG

The grocery store across the street on the opposite corner was another place that I liked.  Ziggy was allowed to come in.  She was another advocate saying that as soon as Ziggy crosses the threshold he becomes an official seeing eye dog.  I like these people!  This was the local store where you could by fresh local produce, milk and dairy products and minimal groceries.  They had a small meat case with bright paint red hot dogs.  They said they were really good but I couldn’t bring myself to buy them though I still wonder what they taste like. 

BEAUTIFUL TREE LINED STREETS AND OLD HOMES

As we walked the streets and residential areas, you are cradled by these huge magnificent historic elm trees that shade the curb less streets and side walks.  We’d pass gravel driveways divided in the center by thick green patches of grass that the cars didn’t drive over.    Old granite blocks, a little sloping in the center from years of wear, were the typical door steps leading up to doorways that sometimes were decorated with wreaths made of local purple and blue colored mussel shells.  The doors and houses, decorated with their heavy and sometimes elaborate moldings, were covered in multiple layers of heavy thick paint applied over the years.  It was good hearty paint probably filled with all kinds of lead and stuff that makes the paint last for ever not like our faint hearted paint today.  The front doors and window shutters were painted the traditional New England black and the rest of the outside and trim were white.  Heavy brass door hardware and knockers, highly polished, graced many doors.  Most of the wooden houses and buildings were clap board construction and many had fantastic towers or cupolas with pointed or rounded hood shaped roofs.  At the top of many of these cupolas were flamboyant weathervanes turning slowly as the wind direction changed.  They were beautiful.

Each house was more wonderful than the next, many reflecting the old Federal style and all very old.  Picket fences lined each yard and many had arched covered gateways and stepping stone paths surrounded by green grass leading up to their doorways.  Everything was so lush and green and even some roofs were covered in beautiful moss and lichen.  The glass in many of the windows is authentically old and some hand blown giving you a distorted glimpse into some of the wonderful high ceiling living rooms. 

The beauty of the massive old tree lined roads, lined with picket fences, empty of sterile curbs, just soft grass edges was so warm and inviting.  I loved their covered wooden planked porches, tilting or sloping with age, flanked by their wooden support posts capped with delish decoratively carved corbels.  Many of these porches were peeking out through leafy overhangs, over soft green hilly yards, staring out across the beautiful view of the quiet bay and the classic wooden sailboats at anchor slowly rotating in the direction of the changing tide.  Some lawns would have two white wooden Adirondack chairs, perched on the uppermost mound of green hill, staring out at the amazing view, sitting in front of a grey weathered shingle salt box cottage, trimmed in crisp white, with an American flag gently wallowing in the wind. 

The view though seemly common to them was amazing to us.  A view that many would die for to simply just gaze across the bay, watching the multitude of small boats at anchor, none of them pretentious or flashy but stately in their nice minimal lines, real and trustworthy, and then in the distance beyond the mooring field, in the open water area, 20 little sailboats, a training group from the academy, sailing back and forth as if marching, but instead they are jibbing in perfect unison. 

We’d walk past a house and notice something as simple as freshly washed work shirts pinned to a clothesline waving in the afternoon breeze looking out over the water.  What lucky shirts.  Beautiful white puffy clouds flat on the bottom creating a ceiling and space for our viewing arena.   You looked at these houses and wondered at them, the people and the history that just exudes from the village’s pores.  There’s nothing phony or contrived here.  No phony chotsky or tourist nick knacks.  It’s the real deal. 

We also loved walking around town and reading the hand painted signs detailing sights and locations of the town’s fascinating history.  It makes for good walking.  The shoreline heading up to the lighthouse was fun too, passing interesting old inns and homes a little more rustic in style but nevertheless grandiose.

 

THE MAINE MARITIME ACADEMY

We passed the huge grounds owned by the Academy.  They are a big part of this town and we enjoyed hearing and seeing them marching throughout the little streets chanting and frequently shouting their drills.  Some afternoons they would all be heading off for some adventure on the water, sailing or spending the night on the merchant vessel.  It was non stop activity.  The academy has a wonderful book store with lots of goodies like great sweat shirts and hats too. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EATON’S BOATYARD

Eaton’s Boatyard was just next door to Dennet’s separated by a small expanse of water along the water front.  The dark brown shingled boat house leans a bit to the side and there is nothing freshly painted or in good shape about this place.  In fact everything that once had paint on it is guaranteed to be peeling. 

There’s no order to the place as stuff is thrown everywhere and hasn’t been cleaned up for years. The locals swear the crotchety owner knows where everything is no matter how many years it might have been hidden under something.  They say he’s difficult and you have to do everything his way because it his way or no way and on his schedule even though you are the customer.  They also say there is no one else so you just have to go with the flow. 

 

 

 

They do say Eaton is very competent and will get the job done and that means he will get your boat put away for just in time to miss the oncoming severe winter or pulled out for the spring thaw but it will be when and how he wants to and how ever much he feels like charging.  He is said to be fair in his pricing and he expects to be paid in a fair and timely fashion and if not there’s hell to pay.  I guess all that is fair enough so who’s complaining? No one I think and I might add this is all hear say. 

There’s no one else around so you just have to put up with him.  He has a reputation for never throwing anything no matter how worthless it is because because perhaps some day you might need it no matter what year in the future that might be.  People say that he knows where everything is in his mad junk piles and some of the piles are said to be 50 years old. 

He also has a trusty little work boat that is the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen.  It’s full of homemade gadgets, one being a funny looking pulley and hoist tower rigged to it.  I read some where that the boat once sunk and after a few days Eaton merely pulled her up out of the water, started her up and she’s still working like a horse ever since.  You can’t miss it as she has a big lightening bolt painted on each side of her dark blue bow.  Eaton has also constructed a small pilot house on her too made of old pieces of unpainted plywood.  It’s a sight to see.

He uses this boat to do everything and that means putting the moorings out in spring and spacing them to get the maximum amount of money for the space and pulling them in for winter.  We saw him one day completely move or bend one dock out about 10 feet and squeeze a sailboat in the new space and began to hoist the boat up partially on the dock to service something.  It was the most amazing display of ingenuity I’ve ever seen and surely you would have thought it would be entirely impossible to do what he did.  One day he and another guy on the back of the boat were dragging the bottom for something they dropped.  It was quite a comedy to watch and they spent several hours to finally pull up some piece of junk that looked completely worthless. 


 

THE OLD BRITISH CANAL

One day we went to the far side of the town and explored the ruins of the old fort and beyond that searched one whole morning for the old British Canal.  We asked some locals where it was and they didn’t know what I was talking about but we eventually found it.  It was a small canal that the British hand dug to bring boats through the isthmus between Castine and the main land.  They also charged the settlers to cross their canal and collected quiet a bit of money.  It was amazing to still see the remnants of it to this day.

 

 

 

 

 

EXPLORING THE QUAINT WATERFRONT

During our visit we took several long walks exploring the entire area.  We walked along the waterfront seeing all the usual stuff around boat yards, over turned skiffs, blocks and tackle stacked against falling down weathered fences almost overgrown by patches of weeds and wild flowers.  We’d see old mooring weights and balls littering the rocky edges of the tide line and winter storage blocks and stands, mostly stacked in neat piles ready for the next season.  One day we continued on heading SW from the center of town and walked the street closest to the shore.  We passed quaint old inns and churches and lovely small cottages and big estates with handsome gardens and grounds. It’s a lovely walk and there’s something of interest to see each step of the way.

 

 

 

 

SCHOONER ALONE ON PENOBSCOT BAY

During one of these walk we were fortunate to see through an opening a large schooner leaving a nearby cove after a night’s anchorage behind Nautilus Island.  The water was placid on Penobscot Bay that day as the schooner slowly headed out and elegantly let out its sails and we watched as they filled with wind.  It was beautiful sight as she sailed alone on the wide expanse of Bay.  We stopped at the old Fort Point, and watched as she disappeared off into the distance.  

 

 

 

 

LOW TIDE SHORE LINE COVERED IN BLUE PURPLE MUSSLES

Ziggy took advantage of the low tide during our walks and would swim in the shallow cold waters.  He liked to investigate all the water pools and creatures there be created by the low tide along the rocky beach which was amazingly completely covered in purple and blue mussel shells.  We would continue walking up the shoreline road to the light house passing some of the most magnificent homes perched on green grassy knolls of land with the most spectacular private views down Penobscot Bay. 

Sometimes we took the big loop back to town above the Marine Naval Academy and then down Main Street again.  The fields were beautiful with blooming wild flowers, the huge old trees swaying, their leaves rustling in the wind, the skies crystal blue and the pristine white clouds were fluffy and billowy and sailing slowly across the sky.  It was like a dream.  All the while you explore this great place you can hear the marching of the cadets at the academy.  You’d usually see them too either marching or heading to the waterfront for daily drills whether it be sailing or spending an overnight on the State of Maine.  How could any place be so beautiful?

BAH’S CAFÉ

We usually headed back down main street and stopped at Bah Café for lunch.  Unfortunately, dogs aren’t welcome so we had to get our lunch to go and find a place to sit.  I loved this place though.  It’s a hodge podge of rooms in an old house and the kitchen is open to all that want to see.  There’s nothing to hide.  You can see everything being prepared and coming out of the oven including some of the best fresh cookies and pastries every morning. 

In the morning, breakfast wraps and English muffin sandwiches are lined up on a wicker tray filled with all kinds of goodies, like mushrooms, potatoes, avocado, asparagus, salsa, sour cream, and cheeses.  In the back room are several pots of self serve freshly brewed coffees and the display of the days pies, pastries and cookies, all freshly baked.  They are known to have the best sticky buns around but I think all the other things look pretty darn good too. 

You grab your coffee and a pastry and go back to the counter to pay by the kitchen with a good view of the big black stove and range where the ladies are making all these wonderful looking and smelling delights.  It’s a great place.  One day when I paid the printer on the credit card machine got stuck so she just gave me a piece of paper and hand wrote Bah’s Café and the amount and that was good enough.  The place is great for breakfast, lunch and just about any time of the day.

 

BEST LOBSTER ROLL IN MAINE?

Well, I had to try “the best lobster roll in Maine” or so it was declared on the big bold banner outside the Variety Store.  Larry was not interested so Larry headed up to Bah’s to get a sandwich to go and I went into the Variety Store and got my lobster roll to go.  We then food in hand headed down to the public dock to eat them and watch the world go by.  We were really tired as we had just finished a huge walk.  We picked out a nice picnic table right by the ramp down to the public dock and started eating. 

Well, the “best lobster roll in Maine” didn’t taste like the best lobster roll I’d ever eaten.  It was kind of on the room temperature side.  It was full of great chunks of lobster with the perfect amount of mayonnaise but the temp is what turned me off.  A stunning looking older woman walked by and stopped and said point blank “Is the lobster roll good?”  I said “Pretty good”.  She said, “Oh, only pretty good?” and I said “Well, it’s OK”.  She asked if it was cold and I said “No, that’s what’s wrong with it”.  She said, “I can’t stand lobster rolls that aren’t cold.”  It was like we immediately bonded with that info. 

Somehow through this funny conversation I found out she was from Laguna Beach, California and I said, “Really, we’re from California too.”  She said they have a home here that has been in the family for generations and also a place in Laguna.  She said “but it’s a long way to come, takes a long time to get here,” and then she kind of rolled her eyes and sighed.  I said, “It sure is a long way to come.  It took us two years to get here”.  She looked puzzled and then I explained we came by boat and pointed to the Knotty Dog.  Well, we both started to laugh and there began an immediate friendship. 

She yelled down to her husband who was down the ramp waiting in his Boston Whaler with the rest of the family.  She yelled to them that we had come by boat from California and pointed to our boat over at Dennet’s.  Her husband yelled up “Well then, have them come by the house for cocktails tonight.  We want to hear about your trip.”  So, just that quickly we made friends.  They said they “live in the house just past the catholic church.”  We said we’d be there around 6:00 as we had dinner reservations at 7:30 at the Pentagoet Inn.

 

NEW FRIENDS

That was all it took.  We didn’t know these people but something about them was right.  We dressed for dinner and headed up the road to find their house.  At first we knocked on the door of the wrong house and then we realized we didn’t even know their names to ask where they lived, but Diane, was her name, saw us from their window.  She came out and waved us over and we all laughed because they didn’t know our names either. 

That evening was the beginning of a new friendship.  We had a great evening exchanging stories.  We especially liked to hear the history of their house and family.   Their house was indeed historical and Ralph had lots of stories to tell us about living and growing up in this town.  He knew all the locals who have lived here for generations.  It was a great insight into the lifestyle here and how it is growing up knowing everyone who lives here and knowing their parents and grandparents and so on tracing back until when the land was first settled.  They said they would never sell their house no matter what the price would be as it’s a part of their heritage and they want to be able to continue the tradition by passing it on to the next generation and so on.  Ralph said that most of the people that live here feel and will do the same. 

Wow, having grown up in a place like Orange County with nothing but strip malls and track houses that are torn down and something else rebuilt every ten years this was an amazing place and lifestyle to me.  I loved meeting these people and hearing about their lives.  I grew up with no significant history to the area I lived in and nothing that tied me family wise.  Everyone I knew including my family were transplants from another state or another country and never planned to stay long.  It was such a transient lifestyle. 

So Castine to me was something really special.  During our stay we got together with Ralph and Diane and their family many times, making dates to meet at the Bah Café for breakfast or lunch at the public dock and we had them to the boat for drinks and to see movies of our travels.  What great people and great fun times we had with them.  They made our visit so much fun and enriched our appreciation for what the village was all about.  We hated to leave these new friends. 

PENTAGOET INN

That first night we talked so long that we were late for our dinner reservations so Ralph drove us to the Pentagoet Inn.  This little Inn and restaurant too is a charming spot worth mentioning. It’s a warm and cozy Inn serving excellent food and beautifully decorated.  We thought if we ever came back for a visit this would be a great place to stay.  The evening was warm and clear and the candle lights in the inn sparkled as we enjoyed the surroundings and food.

 

 

Rant & Rave session  Click Here to skip

PET PEEVE

But aahh, though this was a wonderful visit I do regretfully have one pet peeve and it has nothing to do with Castine per say but it is a problem that we come across in our boating travels and I can’t leave this episode without mentioning it.  It’s a dark spot on our visit but fortunately it didn’t spoil our appreciation for the town and its people.   I mention it only because I think as boaters and owners of marinas that we should be more considerate not only to fellow boaters but to the environment and here it is.

It all started the second night we were here.  Here we are in about the most perfect place yet on our cruising trip and we can’t get a breath of fresh air.   Castine is pristine, charming, unhassled with the outside world, historically unchanged for hundreds of years, scenic, great people live here, they have great little stores, and restaurants, inns and all seems perfect except that we couldn’t get a breath of fresh air.  It’s been the same for two nights now.  It’s such an irritating shame. 

 

RUNNING THOSE GENERATORS AT THE DOCKS

Last night two pretty good size yachts came in to Eaton’s marina and dock just down wind from us and they ran their generators the whole blasted night.  Yes, at the docks!  We’re all here in close quarters and the fumes just came right into our stateroom and hung there like one big stinking cloud.  There hasn’t been a stitch of wind to speak of except for the tid bit that was just strong enough to blow the stink lightly but irritatingly our way. 

We were so glad to see those two yachts leave in the morning.  I was hoping they wouldn’t be replaced by another the following evening.  We were planning to stay in Castine for at least 5 days which is normally more time than we usually plan for a town of this size but we wanted to take a break from constantly moving and just sit back enjoy the place.  

Throughout the day, I’d glance over at Eaton’s dock to see who was coming and going, hoping we’d not get another boat that had to run its generator.  Why the heck do they do that anyway?  Doesn’t Eaton provide enough power for the boats?  I was happy as it looked like no one big came to stay the night, just small boats coming and going all day, many stopping for gas or just stopping to go get something to eat or see the town.  All was good.  We took a little walk through town and got some dinner.

When we got back to the boat we noticed a huge boat had arrived at Eaton’s.  It was the same boat that came in our last night at Camden.  *%#@*!  Why doesn’t that darn Eaton’s Boatyard get some power down at the dock for these boats?  Or if there is power, what’s the darn problem?  Eaton’s Boat Yard has only been there for ions so they’ve had a whole life time to get it sorted out.  Why would the town want these boats running their generators disturbing the peacefulness of the night with the noise of its hum and sputter of a dang generator while it splishes and splashes and coughs water out the side of these monster sized boats all night?  That’s not even to mention the fumes that they generate and we all breathe. 

 

WE SMELLED LIKE THE INSIDE OF THE TUNNEL TO LOGAN AIRPORT, BOSTON DURING RUSH HOUR

The inside of our boat smelled like the inside of the tunnel to the Logan airport in Boston by the time we got back from dinner.  If that wasn’t bad enough I then looked across the water and here comes the small but huge (for the scale of this harbor) cruise ship that was at Rockport when we were there!  Oh my gosh.  This town is too little for all of this.  We’re wondering what in the world are all those people going to do here in this little town with only a handful of stores to look at and no café big enough to handle this large amount of people?   At least the cruise ship is far enough out in the harbor that we won’t be bothered by their noise and smell. 

For some reason the wind, what little we have, has been coming directly out of the NE and we are just up wind from Eaton’s dock.   My PJ's smell of exhaust, my hair smells of it and my skin feels of it.  Last night we put a fan in the master stateroom window to draw the fumes out or at least try to keep them moving rather than accumulating and hovering.  In the middle of the night we were sick of listening to the fan so Larry turned it off but whew it all came back instantly.  It’s like somebody running their exhaust pipe right in your face none stop for hours.

In the morning I awoke at the crack of dawn and jumped out of bed.  I headed up to the fly bridge hoping to get a breath of fresh air, but when I opened the pilot house door I found it to be worse outside.  Hopefully this morning the wind will change direction or at least pick up and blow the dam stink out of the area.  During these dead calm days everything just lingers.

Why the heck do two people need a boat of that size (120 feet) with a crew of 8 just to wait on them?  It seems over kill to me.  They ruin every quaint charming port they come into by running their stinking generators and are so big they stand out worse than a sore thumb.  They sound like dinosaurs as they motor in looking for a piece of dock (because there never is enough for their length),  they grown and growl as they run those bow thrusters pushing themselves up to the quaint small docks and out shadow the charm of the town. 

They are too big to go most places up here in Maine and when they do they just take away the charm by lighting the place up like a cruise ship.  What the heck are they thinking?  Thank goodness they are too big to anchor most places.  It would be such a disappointment to have found your perfect anchorage and as you drop your hook and set back with a nice glass of wine and a good meal and watch the sunset or the stars in the sky and in trots one of these things.  They motor into your nice quiet anchorage, blocking half the view of the anchorage, destroying the silence with their nonstop running generator and putting out diesel fumes to knock your lights out and then like that wasn’t enough they light themselves up like a city block so you can’t see the abundant stars in the sky.  The ones that top the cake are the ones that even have to light the water below the boat! 

Well, I have to apologize for ranting on like this but geeze it’s irritating.  I wonder does anybody else out there feel this way too?  If so let us know and let us know your special pet peeve or inconsiderate thing that other boaters do.  Email them in to us we’d like to hear you get it off your chest.  Maybe we should post a whole complaint section for them. 

Well, I have to say; thank goodness we only suffered a few nights out of the 5.  At least the "the stink boats" didn’t stay long.  The wind picked up after a few days and we got a good breeze and lots of clean air. 

 

PRISTINE CASTINE,

I HOPE THEY PROTECT THEIR LIFESTYLE AND TRADITIONS

What a great place this is.  I hope the lifestyle will remain protected and hopefully it will because it is off the highway and takes some effort to get here.  It’s a fragile special place and I hope will remain so for a long time to come.   Well, several people had recommended Castine as a must stop and we thank them for that and it is by far one of the most favorite places we have been yet, minus the pet peeve dock situation mentioned above.  We hope they get the power problem solved over there at Eaton’s.  Soon. 

Thanks to everyone we met in Castine including Ralph and Diane and Mike, on the sailboat Sweet Waters who stopped us on the street to say “hello” to us.  He said he had been reading the website and just wanted to say "hi".  We watched and hailed him as he sailed by in his beautiful Hinckley sailboat to wish him good sailing.  You meet the nicest people boating and they provide so many unexpected memories that you will cherish always.

Castine you are a beautiful town filled with wonderful people.  We hope that we will see you again soon.  Please don’t change.

 

 

 

PS- We are officially getting what is called the Maine Roll.  No it’s not a lobster roll or crab roll but the mid riff roll.

 

 

 

 

 

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