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BOOTHBAY TO ROCKLAND
To Rockland Photos
We awoke early this morning, after a night smelling diesel smoke from the neighboring yachts, who not having enough power, had to run their generators all night. It didn’t help that their exhaust outputs were right by our stateroom. We could only open the portholes on the portside but then we took in the fumes from the nearby anchored power boat who was also running his generator. For some reason the fumes from the boats around here is very strong and I mentioned it to Larry and he said it’s because everyone around here has two stroke engines and they produce more exhaust. They are really smelly. Also the wind was blowing up the harbor and I think all the fumes were hovering where we were. My lungs sort of ached like when I was a kid growing up in Orange County on really smoggy days. I haven’t felt that for a long time. Larry got the weather report and the winds were supposed to change to the NE, blowing 5 knots which with 4 foot waves which was nothing to concern ourselves about. Tomorrow however, it would be 20 knots plus with 4 foot plus waves. We decided it was a smarter move to leave today and get up to Rockland rather than fight it for 5 hours tomorrow plus Boothbay was getting crowded and we didn’t want to spend another night breathing exhaust fumes. So we both started to scramble once the decision was made. Windows, drawers and doors were secured. Things on the counters were stowed and Zig was taken out for a quick elimination of intestinal contents and off we went, leaving all that exhaust that we’d been breathing at the end of the harbor where we were docked. As we left the harbor, we again maneuvered our way past all the lobster pots. It was flat calm so they were easy to see today. When it’s choppy and rainy, it’s another story. It’s such a beautiful place here. There are so many little coves with beautiful houses and cottages, and the shores are sculpted with interesting rock ledges. The trees are thick and green, like Christmas trees. It’s a beautiful sight. We pass a small light house on the way out, well actually a couple, as there many in this neck of the country. They are strikingly beautiful. We pass an island called
Negro Island. It was such an odd name to call an island I looked it
up to see if there was any explanation. It was just a small patch of land
barely separated from a small cluster of little islands. I read that it was
given that name long ago for some Negroes that were given their freedom. They
had been given the land as a gift. We didn’t see any houses on it so wonder
what happened to the people that owned it?
The water outside the harbor is still calm but I’m always amazed even in calm conditions how huge the swells are that come our way. You can easily see how this area would be very scary in bad weather as those swells increased in size. They seem to come out of nowhere and suddenly get larger and larger as they near the boat. Fortunately the time between each one is long and spaced out as such that they are smooth and graceful and we just glide over them but you certainly have to have a lot of respect for them. PEMAQUID POINT We see a large yacht go by us at a distance headed out in a different direction. Maybe they are headed farther north or “downeast” as they say. We watch as it disappears into the haze. We pass by a lovely lighthouse. It’s Pemaquid Point Light originally commissioned in 1827 by John Quincy Adams. On August 14, 1635 John Cogswell and his family from England were the first to set foot here and the next day their ship Angel Gabriel was wrecked here in a violent storm. The family finally settled south in Ipswich, Massachusetts. LOBSTER RACES Today off Pemaquid Point, we
see two lobsters boats, well hear is probably more like it. Their motors are so
loud and they are racing. Today are the lobster boat races. You hear them
first and then soon, we see two small lobster boats giving it all they’ve got.
How exciting as we listen to all the activity on the radio. These races are
serious business around here. The two boats are racing inside the point
markers. One boat is blue and the other is white. They look beautiful racing
through the flat waters as they go off and around the point out of sight and not
too long later as we pass Pemaquid Lighthouse, we see them coming back, still
going as fast as they can. We are so lucky to have seen a part the lobster boat
races as we didn’t know they were going on today. We heard later that George
Bush Senior came up in his boat Fidelity to watch the races. I
guess everyone was having a lot of fun talking to him on the radio. They said
he’s a real friendly down to earth type of guy and loves the races. I wish we
had known so we could have searched the channels and eavesdropped in. We are now entering Muscongus Bay now as we head up the coast. We pass another picturesque light house on a wonderful rocky ledge. The ledge has multiple layers of diagonally layered rock. It’s spectacular! I catch a photo with a beautiful sailboat crossing paths with us. MONHEGAN ISLAND
EGG ISLAND, PUFFIN LAND
We’re not heading straight to Rockland today but heading out to Egg Island first in hopes of sighting some puffins. It’s a bit of a detour and we hope it’s worth it. Well, our short detour to see puffins today didn’t pan out. We saw every kind of bird but a puffin. (We found out later that the season was too late to see puffins.) I even yelled “puffins” in my loudest voice, but no answer. Something about being out away from civilization on a boat brings that out in me. I remember when we were at an anchorage in Alaska with no one around for miles and miles, I just wanted to whoop and holler out something. Its great knowing, no matter how LOUD you yell, NO ONE, can hear you except for the bears and birds. How many places on earth can you do that? So I like to take advantage of it every so often. Zig does too. Sometimes we just howl and howl together. He loves it so much. Larry thinks we’re a little nuts but I’m really not c razy, just enjoy the outdoors. Here is a link to a Great Puffin Site www.projectpuffin.org. AHAB BECKONING ON OLD
MAN LEDGE
We’re getting ready to change course again to head up our last leg towards Rockland. I have to glance back again Monhegan Island. It’s still flat calm, overcast, and silvery grey out. In the distance from this angle, Monhegan looks like a giant sperm whale resting on the surface. It’s eerie looking. We pass a lonely lobster boat out here, slowly motoring back and forth from trap to trap, pulling, unloading and dropping, over and over and over again. Larry has just made the turn and is heading up what they call Two Bush Channel. We will pass Two Bush Island which I guess it was named after. We’ll see if it still has two bushes on it. Not very likely I imagine after all the time has past since it was named. TWO BUSH ISLAND
Poor Larry is still wandering back and forth, trying to get around the lobster pots. At least it’s calm out, no wind now, no waves, and no fog. The sky is getting dark now as the storm we were forewarned about is heading towards us. The waters and landscape is grey except for the fluorescent neon colors of the lobster pots. As we pass Two Bush Island, there is a lonely solar powered light house there, looking very untaken care of. There are no bushes so I guess the two bushes didn’t make it nor did they multiply. I decide to look up it’s history and find out that the TWO BUSH LIGHT was named for two sole pine trees that mariners used for day beacons before the light was built in 1897. The trees are no longer there obviously and it’s a very lonely looking place. A DOG NAMED SMUT Two Bush Light has a warming story about a dog named Smut. He was involved in a heroic rescue. I don’t know how long ago but during a snow storm, a fishing schooner was in danger of being smashed on the rocky shores of the island. The fishermen had abandoned ship and taken to their dory as a leak opened on the vessel. They couldn’t find their way to Two Bush Island and land. They heard Smut barking and it leads them to the island. Alerted by the dog’s commotion, the keeper ran down to the shore and saw the two men in the dory. Their boat had overturned by a wave, but the light keeper was able to haul them safely ashore. Nice ending as it’s not a very hospitable looking island. Some how the landscape past Two Bush Island is even lonelier. The stretch of nearby islands is rugged and sharp and the trees are dark and thick. Every once in awhile we see a house or two but they look lonely and isolated. The waters are still filled with the troublesome lobster pots. Larry is constantly turning the auto pilot on an off so he can make the monotonous turns to the left or right to miss and two or three pots. It’s a regular movement now. No longer do we go from way point to way point. The line tracked across the computer screen is ragged and edgy, only a crazed person would take path like that. Here it’s just normal. As we pass a colorful field of pots we see the lobster boat sitting off to the side, I think he’s watching us to see if we will cut his lines and cost him several hundred dollars today. I know many boaters just cut through the lines with special blades they have mounted on their props. We do have blades but we do everything we can to avoid them. WHOOPS, SPILLED ANOTHER CUP OF COFFEE!!! Glad it was Larry this time. That must be at least about the third spilled cup on this trip so far. Thank goodness the carpet has been so good. It cleans up and amazingly doesn’t show a thing. But the coffee has been a problem this year. I spilled a whole cup on the main computer and “killed it” as Larry likes to say. We quickly cleaned it up and no more was said. Hey, when both of you have done it, what’s to say? We pass an anchorage called The Neck. It looks beautiful but tricky to get in. It’s surrounded by rocky islands and is well protected. We check out the entrance and depths and think maybe a nice anchorage on the way out?
We see the light of Owl’s Head Light. Its warm light is so welcoming on this grey day. It’s perched up on the hill and the beautiful light keeper’s house is just below and to the left nestled in the pine trees. What a pretty sight. OWL’S HEAD LIGHT Owl’s Head Light has some interesting stories about it to share also. It’s located at the entrance to Rockland Harbor. It was authorized by President John Quincy Adams in 1825. “In 1850 a small schooner from Massachusetts broke loose from it’s mooring at Jameson Point and headed across Penobscot Bay towards Owl’s Head. Two seamen and a passenger were the only ones on the schooner. The schooner crashed against the rocky ledges at the lighthouse. As the schooner broke apart, one got to shore and reached the road to the lighthouse. The lighthouse keeper saw him while returning on his sleigh and took him to the light where he learned from him about the other two on the ship wreck. He and a rescue party found the wreckage and a block of ice enveloping the mate and passenger. They brought the block ashore, and carefully chipping away the ice and slowly warmed the victims. They both were revived.” “Another well known tale associated with Owl’s Head light is that of Springer Spaniel, Spot. The dog learned to pull the fog bell rope with his teeth when he saw an approaching vessel. Boats would answer with a whistle or bell and Sport would bark a reply. One stormy night in the 1890’s, the mail boat from Matinicus was headed toward Owls Head. The fog bell rope was buried in the snow but Spot’s constant barking warned the captain in time to guide his vessel around the peninsula, clear the rocks, and sound a whistle to acknowledge safe passage. The spaniel was buried on the hillside near the former location of the fog bell.” What great true stories. It has just begun to rain. We
see two ferries going opposite directions passing each other, loaded with cars.
We’ve been lonely all day and as we near the breakwater it suddenly seems like everyone is. Suddenly we are following three other sailboats single file in. Where did they come from? There is a huge long stone breakwater to protect the harbor from the SE winds. We head past the stone breakwater and towards the first red buoy marker inside. Larry hails Landing Marina and a young girl answers back. Larry had called this morning to see about getting dock space as we were coming a day earlier than our reservation. We had reservations for dock space starting tomorrow. She seemed confused about us and can’t seem to find any reservation today, only for tomorrow. We explain again that we talked to someone this morning and she then says OK pick up a mooring, any of the Landing’s moorings. We ask for direction to their moorings and she says to go past Green Can 3 and then down to the yellow marker and we’ll find a mooring to pick up from there. We head in past Green Can 3 and then the next green can that she didn’t mention and we eye the yellow marker. I’m driving now as Larry will pick up the mooring and is on the bow of the boat. I’m hesitant to go farther because we’re getting near the shore line and there are no boats. I wave Larry back into the pilot house. We are confused and hail her back. She says to go beyond and around the yellow marker and as we come around we will see an aisle heading up through the mooring field. We are to pick up any Landings Mooring. Larry asks if there is any definitive marking to identify their mooring and she says it will say “Landing Marina” on it. We come around as she said and now see the aisle she was talking about. We start to come up the aisle and are doing the best we can to find one of their moorings but we do not see any “Landing” mooring balls. I finally hail the harbormaster that is in his runabout going by. I ask him if he knows where the “Landing” mooring balls are and how to identify them. He says there will be nothing here (where we are) by the yellow marker that would be big enough for our size boat. He said we should go all the way to the end of the aisle and there should be something for us on the right side. I asked what they look like and he said they are aqua green. So we head down the aisle through the mooring field and get near the end and still don’t see anything that even resembles aqua green mooring balls or anything that has the name “Landing” on it. We’re really getting antsy by now. FINALLY, I spy a lobster pot-type marker. It could possibly be construed to be aqua green, more like fluorescent yellow green to my trained eye. The mooring wall was white though and had no writing that we could make out. It looked as old as the hills though and SURELY that could not be their mooring ball. They would have something nicer. But then, looking through the binoculars, I read on the lobster float “AND..G” all hand painted. Everything else was worn off. I said to Larry that must be it. LANDING could be, yes, “-AND--G”, why not? The color of the lobster float was fluorescent yellow green. I guess that could also be construed as aqua green to these Mainers, so we picked it up. We had been instructed to call in on the radio, the number of the ball, to the girl when we got settled. I hailed her on 9 and then we changed to 10 and told her we think it’s either 8, or maybe 6, or could be 9, as the lettering was old and worn off. She seemed totally fine with that and that was the end of that. Good grief. The clouds are closing in with
darkness. It feels colder and wetter and we’re thinking we’re going to get some
rain tonight. We decide to get the dinghy down and take Zig in for some relief
and take a “look see”. Tomorrow we’ll be at the dock and we’ll do our real
exploring then.
ROCKLAND ISN’T PICTURESQUE BUT IT CAN BE BREATHTAKING The harbor isn’t picturesque as it’s a working harbor and that is evident by the large fishing boats coming in each day unloading their catch at the dock, swarmed by hungry seagulls. To us the harbor is unique by the fact that we had never seen so many old beautiful windjammers, schooners, sloops, and just plain old wooden classic sailing and power boats in one place. Many are magnificent and when they head out of the harbor, whether for a day’s cruise or a week’s cruise, they put their sails up and they become full of wind. It is an amazing thing to gaze at. They literally take your breath away! It was not uncommon to see five schooners at one time sailing out in Penobscott Bay just past Rockland’s breakwater. It’s a little visual taste of what it must have been like in the old days. I had no idea that this is what we would see here. Sometimes I think it is good not to read too much before about where you are going because it was such a great surprise. We came to Rockland a day earlier than we had reservations for and because of the boat show, we could only get a reservation for a mooring the first day. This was the last day of the boat show and it was fun watching all the interesting boats that were in the show leaving the boat show docks. Many were puttering around looking for places to land for the night and others were lined up at the fuel dock getting ready to head out back to their home ports. The harbor was full of windjammers going in and out. I’ve never seen so many old sailing vessels in one place. It was totally amazing. We watched the many new blue hulled lobster-picnic boats cruising around. That seems to be the latest style boat that everyone wants. They all seem to be a cross between the Hinckley picnic boat and a lobster style. The weather was looking like it was going to get nasty again as the monstrous black clouds were rolling in and hovering, looking like they were picking a spot to let loose. Many of the little boats in the show were heading out past the breakwater, probably heading for their home port. I hope they have a safe short trip as the weather is not looking nice. We both awoke in the night
around 3:00 AM the night before as the front of the storm came through with
winds and waves slapping the hull. We both could not sleep the rest of the
morning just because of the noise of the waves and wind. It was pretty
incredible. This was the storm that was supposed to come and stay tomorrow so
we are glad we came a day early and are in a safe harbor. We’re not sure what
to expect with the storms around here. You read all the books describing the
Nor’easters and their terrible storms. This was not a Nor’easter though, just
some higher winds and waves, and thunderstorms. CHECK OUT TIME IS FLEXIBLE AROUND HERE The winds had died down in the morning but the rain was still lingering and there were scattered showers. We had to wait around on the mooring until 11:00 to get a dock slip, so we just hung out on the hook in no special hurry. There was a lot to watch so there wasn’t a dull moment. We went to shore to relieve Ziggy and as we came back to the dinghy we stopped at the dock office and asked about our slip. There was a sailboat in it now. 11:00 is boat check out time. It was past 11:00 now. Looks like we’re having the same problem that we had at Boothbay. Guess some boaters up here just don’t observe the check out time. When we got back to Knotty Dog we called the dock master and asked how it was coming with the slip. We thought it was necessary to put a little pressure on. She said she’d check to see when the sailboat was leaving and would call us back. We just wanted to get settled so we could go to town. A few minutes later, she called back and said they weren’t in the boat and she couldn’t find them but she’d pull them down to the fuel dock out of our way so we could get in. I find it really amazing that boaters do things like that. FINALLY AT THE DOCK We finally got settled. They put us on the main dock where everyone comes and goes from the dock shack. It was fine as we could see everything. At first she had us pull up to the bottom of the ramp but Larry checked the depth and at high tide we were OK but he was anxious to move farther out before the tide went out as the depth was pretty shallow. Finally the people on the other boat arrived and slowly threw their gear aboard and in no hurry left the dock. When they did leave we got out on the dock, undid the lines, and pulled Knotty Dog out about 20 feet. That gave us a more comfortable depth below us. We secured her and headed to town to see what was there. TOWN HAS LOTS TO OFFER The town is cute with shops and galleries. The setting isn’t picturesque, as it’s obvious that was and still is a working town, but they are doing a great job making this place an interesting destination. The most interesting to me was the Farnsworth Gallery which has a wonderful permanent collection of Wyeth paintings: N.C. Wyeth, Andrew and Jamie. Their art is all different and I really like them all. They are an amazingly talented family. The Gallery has drawn a lot of artists and support galleries to the town. The town was filled with artists painting on the sidewalks. The day that I explored the gallery, the granddaughter of Andrew was there giving a special lecture tour. It was so fascinating to hear what she had to say about her father Jamie and grandfather and what personally went into these fantastic paintings, and watercolors. If you didn’t liked their art before you certainly will after seeing this museum. It really anchors the town and gives it a destination. The town is filled with old warehouses and old brick buildings that slowly are being converted into shops, restaurants, and galleries, all encouraged by the presence of the Farnsworth Gallery. There are plenty of good places to eat and bakeries. They have one huge chandlery which was amazing. Had everything you could imagine not like the sterile West Marine. I guess even the MBNA decided this town was worth the investment as they completely cleared and rebuilt a major portion of the waterfront although the buildings and grounds are surprisingly and eerily vacant, like things gone wrong. The lawns and buildings are immaculately groomed but no one resides inside.
I was sitting in the pilot house about 5:00 PM on a beautiful afternoon. It was sunny, clear and a nice breeze was flowing through the harbor. I was glancing out at the nice view we had of the harbor and mooring field, when all of a sudden I see a small sloop in full sail, heeling over as far as it could, racing through the crowded mooring field like a bat out of hell. He was going a good click and raced past our bow. I was astonished at the skill of these two older guys and their cocky attitude. To have the confidence to feel that they could sail like that through a crowded harbor and a very crowded mooring field no less was pretty impressive. I turned momentarily to grab my camera. I’m thinking I’ll get a great shot of this amazing sight. In the moment it took to grab the camera and turn it on, they made a quick turn and the sails went to an ugly luff. I was so disappointed thinking I had missed capturing their flight and that they were going to let the sails down to pick up a mooring, BUT NO, they were just making a dare devil turn and in an instant almost had the sails completely filled again. They were again gaining a reckless speed now going in the opposite direction, again through the crowded moored boats, when, OH NO, OH MY GOD, LOOK LARRY, OH MY GOSH……….and a huge GLUNK! They ran straight into another boat. It brought them to an embarrassing dead stop. I’m amazed that it didn’t throw them from their boat it was so abrupt. They didn’t just run into any boat but a classic old sloop that I had been admiring during our stay. It had been peacefully minding it own business at its mooring and now the beautifully polished and varnished teak railing on its beam was broken and splintered and parts of it were sticking straight up into the air. We couldn’t believe it! Our jaws dropped. We were so shocked. I noticed some other boaters on a large sports fishing boat across the dock from us were equally in shock. We just couldn’t believe what we saw. I had my camera but missed the GLUNK! And then I was so shocked I didn’t follow up with a great shot. Darn, why couldn’t I have been fast enough to turn the movie mode on. Darn it! Well, if that wasn’t enough, after they bounced off from the impact, they didn’t stop, and investigate, but just took off. They filled the sails again and the wind carried them away down the mooring field. We were all stunned even more now. What about the boat they damaged? I yelled at some people on another boat here on the dock who watched the whole thing. He got his binoculars and was trying to get the name of their boat but it was hard to read. The boat that did the damage was no slough either; it was a beautiful old traditional boat called Slimplicity. Maybe some of you know it. I’m sure they must have had some damage too. We tried to see its name plate but it was an old carved wooden plaque and didn’t read well from a distance. It was hard to visually follow them as they just disappeared in the distance and cover of all the moored boats. They left like nothing happened. It was incredible. Eventually we saw that they took their jib down and then the sail directly behind the forward mast and then luffed the sail off the rear mast. They eventually picked up a mooring way out in the outer harbor. Apparently the dock master heard the GLUNK too and was watching to see where they went and called the harbormaster that was on his way to investigate. The dock master said the two guys eventually hailed the harbormaster to report their accident so I guess they were honest guys just a little ashamed and embarrassed I would think.
Rockland is where we docked next to Diane. She has got to be the most amazing person we’ve met in all our travels. She suffers from that premature aging disease. I’m not sure what it’s called. We don’t know if she was 18, 20, or 25, who knows, but looks 70 or older. She is dwarfed in size and didn’t get around too well as her joints and limbs are a bit withered. Her hair was tied in matted pig tails with ribbons and hidden under a baseball cap that is so large on her head that the rim comes down too far over her forehead and covers her pig tails. Only a small portion of her face peeks out under the hat. Her features are sharp with a pointed nose and chin and her skin is wrinkly. Some days she wears what looks like ski-bibs and woolen sweaters though the weather is quite warm out. Her boat is a bit raggedy looking, about 26 feet long, with nothing more than a wind shield crowded with papers and junk. She has small canvas bimini for protection from the wind and rain when she’s running the boat. At night when her light is on you can get a glimpse inside the cabin of the boat. She has divided the small space with home made walls made of plywood. The spaces are so small inside that any normal sized person would not fit. She has a collection of stuff, mostly what we would consider just stuff stashed everywhere. The windows aren’t the clearest but at night you can see a dull warm glow and know that she is in there. Inside where she runs the boat are cups with tin foil covering them, maps and papers and just a lot of stuff that must get thrown around if the waves are a little choppy. In the back of the open cock pit are several gallon sized bottles of water. They are old and used and mostly refilled with water for her longer voyages or washing I guess. The boat is not pretty or fancy. It just is a means of transportation and shelter and simply has the name “DIANE” painted on the back cockpit. The letters are block letters, not put on straight or even, and no homeport is listed. There are small lines scattered all over the boat, none are neatly coiled or stowed. They are little thin lines, probably just small enough for her little hands to grab. Her fenders are small and dirty with worn blue and faded socks that are not covering them but half on like a kids with socks working their way down the heal of their shoes. She heads out everyday, working her little throttle back and forth in little mini maneuvers to turn her little boat away from the dock and the pilings. She goes very slowly and methodically. The boat is small and the perfect size for her small body. She stands inside at the helm and is just barely tall enough to see over the dashboard and out the plastic windshield. She has a small part of the plastic windshield unzipped which she flaps over giving her a small opening to see out.
I forget about her until later that afternoon, I hear a high pitched ragged voice, a voice yelling but such a small little voice. “Can you help me with the lines? Can you help me with the lines? Can someone get the lines?” I look out and here comes Diane, as she slowly putters up the little aisle of the marina back to her slip. She is hollowing out to anyone. It didn’t matter to whom, but she rousts them out. She comes in so slow, working that little throttle back and forth, making her slow turn to get to her slip. People come from all different locations to help her. They stand on the dock and watch her as she comes in so slowly and carefully points the bow to the dock. Someone grabs the bow rail and then she slowly and methodically works those throttles and turns the back of the boat in, then she leaves the helm and goes to the back of the cock pit to throw a dirty little wadded up line to someone on the dock. One guy who had come to help, probably stunned by the whole situation, prematurely let go of the bow rail and the bow sort of floated slightly away from the dock. She reprimanded him like she knew him for years. “You let go of the bow! You let go of the bow! You never do that!” She went back to the helm and started the throttle manuever all over again to get the bow back exactly where she had it. This time the guy didn’t let go of the bow. There were three guys helping her get the boat tied all not knowing quite what to do. She had a certain system that only made sense to her. She had a way of tying those lines and once docked she would meticulously one by one untie what they had tied and pull her lines this way and that and retie until she had it the way she wanted. She would then put her scruffy fenders down, stuffing them between the dock and the boat. Not much more was said, a little high pitched “Thank you” and then she would go about her business, somewhat talking to herself. She’d zip up the plastic windshield and zip her canvas enclosure and she was sealed up snug for the night. Once she got settled she’d go inside her cabin and soon had changed her clothes, heading up the dock and wasn’t to be seen for a couple hours. We would never see her come back at night but she did. She lived in that boat. Everyday that we were at dock she would do the same thing; get her boat ready, untie her lines and off she’d go again all by herself. She’d always come back late in the afternoon. This happen over and over again during our stay there. She was such a mystery to me. One day Larry went out to help with the lines and tried to have a conversation with her. She’s not much for talking but she obliged in answering a few of his questions. He asked her where she went today. She said she went out to so and so buoy and came back. She said she goes out each day to a different buoy and just looks around and then comes back. She said if it’s foggy she’ll turn right around and come back because she doesn’t like the fog. She was so amazing to me. We found out from the dock master that she brought that boat all the way up from Florida this summer! Now, I have to repeat that… SHE brought that boat all the way from Florida this season, by HERSELF, ALONE IN THAT BOAT! She doesn’t brag about it, nor even tell people about it. She probably doesn’t’ even think anything of it. She has no friends that we could see and is totally alone. She must have some money because she goes out to dinner at night, picks up Fed Ex mail packages sent to her and has paid her docking fees all the way from Florida for a whole season. I so wonder about her. That is quite an accomplishment for any person in that boat alone, period, besides someone in her fragile condition. It totally blew us away. I’d love to know the real story of Diane and if anyone out there knows about her please email us and tell us about this incredible woman. Before I had a chance to try and talk with her she left one morning. I feel like I really missed out on something special. We watched sadly as she headed out. It was time for her to head south again as this is as far as her charts went, she said, so now she was going south. The dock master said she was headed for New York and then back down to Florida. Wow, amazing!.
BRASS COMPASS RESTAURANT We liked to eat at the Brass Compass Restaurant. It had outdoor seating and Ziggy was welcome. I especially loved their clever menu:
Make you hungry? Something about ordering a Seaweed Omelet or an Uppah Crust Omelet just makes me chuckle. What a neat town with lots to do and see and great galleries with lots of creative people walking around. Off to Camden, Maine in the morning. SPECIAL:
Rockland Fisherman Photos
Interested in the Maine Lighthouses? Follow this link: http://www.lighthousefriends.com/acadia.html
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HEADING IN TO ROCKLAND
They are not the tall multi-decked ferries but one open level. In the distance
we see a beautiful sailing vessel double master with several (seven that I can
identify) sails up. Wish I knew the sailing ships better to describe it
accurately. Off to our left is another old sailing vessel. They are amazing to
look at. They are probably taking tourists out for the day. 
NOW WE’VE SEEN IT ALL
DIANE
We watch as she leaves the
marina so slowly, and I mean SLOWLY. She putters out to the busy
harbor channel. No one pays attention to her and her little boat. I watch as
she heads further out into the harbor channel past the moored boats and the
coast guard station. She barely creates a ripple as she goes. No would even
notice that she does this everyday. As she heads out past the huge fishing
boats, slowly and carefully, I wonder where does she go? Boats ignore her ugly
little boat and sail right past her. She just keeps plodding along. I watch as
she goes way out to the lighthouse perched on the breakwater and wonder where
she is going all by herself in that little run down boat? Soon she is a speck
and I forget about her. 