Good morning everyone. We just finished the first of our season end 4-day trips. The wind blew everyday. In fact our departure on Monday was delayed by very strong southerly winds that raised quite a swell in the wake of Ike. Although Ike never came to New England the gradient created by such a vigorous low passing northwest of the state created some strong winds just the same. The cold front left in its wake raised gale warnings here in Penobscot Bay so we enjoyed a hike in the Camden Hills and then a spectacular moonlight sail as the full Harvest moon rose above Islesboro. Tuesday and Wednesday were more of the same Maine coast beautiful. Yesterday another cold front crossed the state bringing more brisk northerly winds that thankfully eased up just long enough to get in to the dock.
We visited an island last week during our lobster picnic that has many good memories for me. I remember visiting the island (which shall remain nameless... don’t you hate when outdoor magazines publish the names of the last 25 unvisited places in America!) during my very first summer crewing up here 26 years ago. Usually we can’t get the schooner into the tight little anchorage but we found it empty at just the right tide and took advantage of the golden opportunity. The bold granite shoreline makes for easy walking and has one small sandy pocket beach that feels Caribbean-esque. In the middle of the island trail is a door mounted between two spruce trees.
Each time I have visited the island I have always been fascinated that the door is still there. Passing through the door the trail leads you deeper into the mysteries of the dark island forest where gnome houses composed of shells and moss delight the senses. 
Someone recently re-hung the door with fresh 2X4s. Normally I might be offended by the likes of buoy trees and doors nailed to spruce trees but this is so uncommon here, nature generally being left to its own devices, that the appearance of a door in an island trail or the occasional buoy tree gives a certain feeling that people call this place home and decorate it tastefully with an accent or two. A wooden bench or a fairy house is something that nature will reclaim easily enough. I hope nature leaves the door a little while longer, a wonder for Courtney and Sawyer to discover someday.
Have a great day. Be well. Do good.
We visited an island last week during our lobster picnic that has many good memories for me. I remember visiting the island (which shall remain nameless... don’t you hate when outdoor magazines publish the names of the last 25 unvisited places in America!) during my very first summer crewing up here 26 years ago. Usually we can’t get the schooner into the tight little anchorage but we found it empty at just the right tide and took advantage of the golden opportunity. The bold granite shoreline makes for easy walking and has one small sandy pocket beach that feels Caribbean-esque. In the middle of the island trail is a door mounted between two spruce trees.
Each time I have visited the island I have always been fascinated that the door is still there. Passing through the door the trail leads you deeper into the mysteries of the dark island forest where gnome houses composed of shells and moss delight the senses. 
Someone recently re-hung the door with fresh 2X4s. Normally I might be offended by the likes of buoy trees and doors nailed to spruce trees but this is so uncommon here, nature generally being left to its own devices, that the appearance of a door in an island trail or the occasional buoy tree gives a certain feeling that people call this place home and decorate it tastefully with an accent or two. A wooden bench or a fairy house is something that nature will reclaim easily enough. I hope nature leaves the door a little while longer, a wonder for Courtney and Sawyer to discover someday.
Have a great day. Be well. Do good.
Comments
From the reports the ship was two masted and about 137' long and 25' wide.
Viewing the pictures demonstrates that nature reclaims her own.