Georgian Bay, Ontario, Canada

I’ve wanted to do a fresh water paddle trip for at least 5 years.  I’d love to see Lake Superior and probably will someday but I was looking for something I could conveniently(ish) drive to with my own boat.  I had spent a little bit of time on the shore of Lake Erie back when my son had a water ski tournament in Pennsylvania.  I was intrigued by “real 2+ waves” in fresh water.  But I wasn’t enamored with Lake Erie itself.  It seemed to have a rather monotonous shore line.   Both Erie and Lake Ontario give me the impression of industrial areas.  I’m sure there are some beautiful areas but it isn’t what those lakes are known for.  I have done a little exploring on Lake Champlain but this lake is too small to call an inland ocean.

The closest interesting I could find was Georgian Bay.  Some internet exploration and a book by Kas Stone had me convinced that a 12 hour ride to the lake would be worth it.  Fortunately, Keri had a conference in Toronto so we decided to combine her work with some pleasure. 

It was clear from my reading that the further north we went would result in a more remote feeling.  But it could also easily add another three hours to the commute.  We settled on an area just north of Parry Sound (birthplace of Bobby Orr!).  The broad area is known as the 30,000 islands region.  The specific area we sought out is bounded by the mainland and the Mink and McCoy Islands that lie about 4 miles off shore.  We had as a backup plan the Massasauga Provincial Park.  It is a water access only area that is much more protected.  Our plan was to go there if the weather was looking iffy wind wise.   

The expected air temperatures were 80 during the day and 60 at night.  The water temperature was a balmy 70 degrees.  The combined data from buoys and Parry Sound indicated the winds typically build onshore to about 10+ knots in the afternoon.  It seemed very manageable.   What was unknown was what it would be like.  How easy would it be to find camp sites?  What distances should we realistically plan for?

The weather forecast was looking favorable over the full four day, three night paddle we had planned.  We launched out of Dillon Cove Marina about 10:45 AM.  We were initially in an area with summer houses but they were not cheek to jowl as they are around here.  And many were on small islands accessible only by boat.  It was a Wednesday so there was not a huge amount of pleasure boat traffic.  Within the first half hour we met another couple that was returning from a week in a cabin that they paddled out to.  We gathered a little reconnaissance of the typical weather patterns and got their thoughts on the prettiest spots. 

Our destination for the first evening was somewhere in the Hertzberg Island area.  We stopped for lunch on Twin Sisters Island(s).  Then we wandered in the cove near Osawa Island.  This was the first time we could really appreciate the beauty of the area.  There still were a few cabins on this island but there were little coves and passages to get lost in.  We stopped for a break on Kneller Island before we headed out into the wind and open water to the west. 

Back in our boats, we passed through a narrow passage to open water.  Within about 50 yards I noticed a black bear walking the shore towards where we were just napping.  Keri had the camera so I started pointing aggressively to get her attention and get her to take some pictures. We watched the bear for about 3 or 4 minutes while it popped in and out of cover while it was exploring the shore.  This brought on a volley of “did you know there were going to be bears?” from Keri.  (I knew there might be but I’m not too concerned about black bears and I really didn’t expect to see one.)  A reasonable compromise of “we’re not camping on an island that we KNOW there are bears on” was reached. 

We landed on Little Elm Tree Island.  It wasn’t the best Island to camp on but we were tired and ready to stop.  The tent was “pitched” on a gentle “pitch”.  The gentle pitch felt like a hill as our slippery down sleeping bags slid down on the sleeping pads.  And pitching a tent here meant piling some rocks on the tabs where tent pegs usually go.

We planned on having chicken the first night and steak the second.  But the warm weather had melted all the ice and left the food warmer than we were comfortable with.  We disposed of the chicken and ate the steak with onions, potatoes, and mushrooms.  We were in bed before sundown (9 pm).

The forecast on the marine radio (that I could only hear if I held the radio above my head) involved high wind warnings building throughout the day and subsiding by noon the following day.  This left me a little concerned about being stuck out on the McCoy Islands if the front lagged.  Given that we had never been there and any exploring we did would be interesting we decided to circum navigate Hertzberg Island instead.  We passed through Frederic Inlet.  This was another area with some tasteful cottages.  Cottages interesting enough that Keri paddled up onto a rock while looking at a house instead of looking where she was going.  (She claimed it wasn’t there earlier).  Back on the inside, we started looking for our next night’s camp.  We stopped and decreed McCormick Island acceptable but kept poking around looking for something better.  I was avoiding Hertzberg Island itself because I was sure it was big enough to be home to a few more bears. 

We ended up settling on McCormick.  We chose a site that would protect us from the predicted NE and East winds.  This made both cooking (heat actually reaches the pan) and sleeping (less tent flapping) more relaxing.  We swam a bit and explored this somewhat larger island.  The nice thing about swimming was you came out clean!  Not salty and sticky.  For dinner, the Pasta Primavera we planned for the last night moved up a day.

The site was perfect protection from the wind and we woke to a steady but dying wind just as it was forecast.  Our destination was south of the put in somewhere along Franklin Island.  This route brought us back by some cottages.  These were by far the most posh ones we had seen so far.  But Franklin Island, like Hertzberg, is crown land and there are large stretches of open space.  We found what I am convinced is one of the nicest camping spots on the bay.  We overlooked many of the bald granite islands that characterize the area as well as the Mink Islands well off shore. 

I was prepared to deal with mosquitoes on this trip but it turned out flies were really the problem.  We paddled out to one of the off shore “rocks” to get away from them.  While standing on the rock I was thinking about this blog and how I would comment on the conditions.  The size (100 miles by 50 miles) of Georgian Bay means that waves can build to a good size, but they don’t linger.  Within about 20 minutes of these thoughts the winds went from calm (hence the fly problem) to about 15 knots out of the NW quickly building a decent chop.  Although this is very manageable to most of the experienced sea kayakers it could definitely have taken a novice explorer by surprise.  And fighting this wind would certainly make a trip to the Minks an arduous journey.

For dinner, the chicken chilly we planned on eating the first night turned into vegetarian chili on the last night.  One thing of note on this island was the spiders.  Their webs were tenacious and strong like spectra rope.  And they were spanning any available branches.  At one point we counted nearly 20 on one 6 foot tall tree/bush.  By morning their webs had strained out dozens of midges. 

Interestingly, when we woke up we could hear a dull buzz.  I thought it might be a generator running on some distant island.  Or maybe it was a swarm of bees somewhere on the island.  Finally Keri noticed that there was a swarm of mosquitoes about 20 feet above our heads spanning 100’s of feet.  Fortunately, they really seemed to have no interest in us.

We packed up early because it was a Saturday.  We wanted to get off the water before it got busy with weekend boat traffic.  We also wanted to get on the road for our long commute back.

Georgian Bay is a 12-14 hour ride.  When I compare the experience to other places I’ve been it ranks pretty high.  It was beautiful.  Swimming and bathing in fresh water is a joy.  It is certainly worth doing it once and I’d go again in a minute if the opportunity presented itself.  The only things it lacked were the ocean swells and the ability to gather seafood that you get on the New England coast. 

July 18, 19, 20, and 21. Paddled  8.5, 8.5, 8.5, and 3.5 miles.  Water temperatures were in the low to mid 70s.  Winds generally 10-15 in the afternoon through evening.

Boston Harbor

Commitments and distance from the water often keep Eric and me from leading paddles.  To compensate we both try to be helpful paddlers during the paddles we do participate in.  (Although I’ll admit I can be a bit mischievous about the places I try to fit my boat when around the rocks.) 

We both volunteered to lead a paddle in Boston Harbor.  It’s a location a bit closer to our houses and it’s also an opportunity to explore waters other than Narragansett Bay for a change.

The plan was to lead a level 3 out of Windmill Point in Hull.  This launch point has its advantages.  You can go outside to Boston Harbor or you can stay in Hingham Harbor if the weather is a bit iffy.  Its disadvantage is that there are strong currents in Hull Gut and it is a focal point for boat traffic.  The day we chose and the start time we selected meant that we’d launch near slack water and we’d return with the current at our backs.  (Navionics software on my Iphone was very handy for the planning.)     

There were 11 paddlers.  Scott and Sue were friends of Linda I had never met.  Mary, who I see about once a year showed up.  Carleen, Peter, Tim-2, Jon, Bob, Eric and I.  It was calm, warm, and overcast.  We were on the water just a few minutes after 9AM and we already had some current to deal with.  But it was very manageable because the water was just starting to flow in.  We made the crossing to Georges Island as a nice tight group and then made our way along the spit to Boston Light. 

We landed at the light and spent about a half hour exploring the island.  The coast guard auxiliary members gave us a quick history lesson but they wouldn’t let us climb to the top of the light because a tour boat was arriving soon.  The quick visit made for a nice break and helped set the relaxed ethos that was prevalent throughout the day.

Back in the boats, we headed to Shag Rocks to play a little bit.  There was very little swell so the danger level was low.  We just poked in and out of some of the passages.   All the same, one paddler spent some time on top of a rock and another spent a few seconds upside down before completing an effective combat roll. 

From Shag rocks we made our way to Outer Brewster Island.  It was raining very lightly but no one seemed too concerned.  There was a little excitement as the occasional larger swell rolled over the exposed end of the Island.  We looked at the Graves light house but the consensus was it didn’t justify an extra 3 miles of paddling.   So instead we headed over to Green Island for Lunch.

We landed at exactly 12:00!  Once again we were amazed how quickly a 10 foot tide comes in.  Peter and Scott seemed to be continuously pulling the boats up to keep them from floating away.

We started our return journey by Little Calf, Calf, and Great Brewster Islands.  From there we decided to pass by the south end of Lovell and land on Georges Island to explore Fort Warren.

There were plenty of tourists on the island.  They had arrived on the frequent Boston Harbor Ferries.  But there was plenty of space and interesting architecture that was nearly 200 years old.  We walked about for another half hour. 

Back on the water we had one final channel crossing back to Windmill Point.  Again, we gathered up in a tight grouping and crossed together as a unit. 

It was a totally laid back and relaxing day.  The group dynamics were simply amazing.  We did our crossing together in an organized fashion yet we drifted apart a comfortable distance at appropriate times so we could each explore in our own ways.  It was quite unlike a typical RICKA paddle!  I think there were a number of factors.  I was typically in the lead and was paddling at a relaxed rate.  Eric acted as the sweep.  There was no wind to cause paddlers directional difficulties or to augment the “strong paddler into the wind” syndrome.  And the lack of familiarity with the surroundings and the exact destination also helped us to gather together before passing from Island to Island.   

I’d guess I paddle Boston Harbor about once a year on average.  I’ve experienced it when we’ve turned around because the waves were too large as well as days like this one where it was a mill pond.  And each time I’ve thoroughly enjoyed myself.  … then again I always say that about paddling.

7/7/2012  Water 65, wind calm, air upper 70s. 12 miles (est.)  

The other Bay Campus

The other Bay Campus: Great Bay, New Hampshire

Keri and I were looking for a relaxing paddle where we wouldn't feel the need to get all dressed up in wet suits or dry suits.  We've been talking about Great Bay for a long time and the time was finally right.  We launched from Adams Point (Durham, NH) at the University of New Hampshire's Jackson Estuarine Lab.  We also drove by Chapman's Landing in Stratham NH, the opposite end of the bay.  Both sites looked like you'd never be shut out due to crowds or parking issues.  We launched and returned at about 2 hours from low tide.  I can imagine at dead low there could be some mucking required but we had no trouble. 

The area was very pretty with a surprising amount of "green" and surprisingly few ostentatious McMansions.  It is protected water... sort of.  You can do a two mile crossing if you'd like and we experienced the 3 mile fetch in 20 mph winds.  But what Great Bay is really perfect for is poking around little coves and marshes.  The water was already pretty warm.  There are significant shallows in the bay and I'm sure it would make a great warm water practice spot in the summer. 

And then there are the currents.  Great Bay empties through the Piscataqua River to the sea.  It also has 7+ foot tides.  Where we paddled is the broad open Great Bay.  We could see a tidal rip right of Adams Point but we didn't put ourselves in it.  There are definitely opportunities for excitement at the Piscataqua end.  We are saving that for another day when the water is warmer.

6/9/2010 Air temperatures low 70's, winds West 10-20,

Blown back, Blown Roll, Blown in

It was just an ordinary paddle.  Fort Wetherill, the forecast sunny, temps in the mid 60s, light winds freshening from the south west in the afternoon, waves 1 foot.

At this time of the year I hope for cooler days (like last week’s paddle from Gooseberry) because it is hard to dress for both the water and the air.  This week I chose my dry suit with just a thin layer of poly-pro under it.  I jumped in the water (55 degrees) before getting in the boat.  It was clear that I’d be OK but cold if I had to swim.  But with a bright sun I knew I’d be able to warm back up.

We (CC, RB, BH, TG, TM, JS, CM, PB, Cam) headed out into still air and very calm water.  In the open water there was the beginnings of a light breeze which make it very comfortable and the 1 foot seas were perfect for a little rock gardening along the Jamestown shore.  We all started without our helmets but quickly realized they would be prudent.  Of course the addition of a helmet only makes us more bold in the rocks that we take on.  Bob and I predictably ended up temporarily grounded but things were generally pretty calm. 

There is one little rock passage at the end of Southwest Point just before you make the turn into Mackerel Cove.  It appears as if it is well protected behind a large rock but there are guard rocks and the granite behind the rock slopes up gradually so the wash wants to run you up.  Rick and Jon seemed to be thinking about it.  Tim, the last to engage in the rock gardening, went in.  He washed up the rock a bit but maintained composure and remained in the sweet spot.  Then he attempted to cross the shallow necked down rock passage and got hung up.  The water washed out from under him and it looked like he was sitting at about a 45 degree angle pointing up.  The return of water is always a mixed blessing.  It came back in and floated him but he ended up upside down.  Somehow, I think a paddle on the rock roll, he righted himself.  With a little re-organization and a bit of a thrashing he made his way back out.  The body was fine but a think the adrenalin level was a bit high. 

We slipped into the first cove and regained our composure.  It was a bit too early for lunch in Mackerel Cove so we continued on towards Beavertail Point.  I was not as warm as I would have liked so I added my neoprene hat under my helmet.  By the time we got to Short Point, the first point as you start to head towards Beavertail, it was clear that the wind was picking up.  A command decision was made to have lunch in Hull Cove.  There were some tempting waves along this shore but they would have washed you into the rocks if you couldn’t get off them.  No one pushed their luck.  I caught a nice one by the sandy section that people were landing on.  Unfortunately it pushed me right towards the landing party.  I managed to keep from wiping them out and headed back for just one more ride. 

 Lunch was a relaxing affair and we were all comfortable in the bright sun.  After lunch we continued on to Beavertail.  The wind was now approaching 15 from the south west.  We knew we’d have an easy downwind ride home.  Back in the open water it was a bit of a slog.  We got strung out a bit.  At one point we stopped to gather up.  I checked the GPS, the wind was pushing us back at about 100 feet per minute. 

We got to within striking distance of Beavertail coast guard station and turned around.  Down wind was fun and without seeing the cresting waves we all allowed ourselves to get a little closer to the shore.  At one point a wave grabbed my stern and rotated me about 60 degrees instantly.  I started thinking about how quickly the wind was pushing us and began to prepare my tow rope in case something happened.  It was lively enough that I couldn’t manage to swing it around my waist to grab the carabineer.  I abandoned that plan so I wouldn’t be the one going over.      

There was some great down wind surfing across the mouth of Mackerel Cove.  The shore along Jamestown was exciting.  There was calopitis and waves were peaking up momentarily all over the place.  The wind was strong enough that turning back away from the shore was a challenge.  I never felt unsteady but my waist got quite a workout as the boat twisted and jerked about under me.

By this point we could even surf into the Fort Wetherill Cove!  Once in the cove Rick, Cam, Jon and I did a little rolling.  Others did well.  I blew my first.  Managed my second.  Then blew a third.  Once on shore I realized just how tired I was.  And also how windy it was.  The Newport weather station listed it as 17 gusting to 25.  The Buzzards Bay buoy had a steady 30! 

Paddles of 2012

Paddles of 2012:

May 5, Gooseberry Neck - Knuble - Angela wreck
May 12, Fort Wetherill to Beavertail Point
May 26, Rescue Training at Bay Campus
June 9, Great Bay NH
June 30, West Island
July 7, Boston Harbor Outer Islands
July 18,19,20,21 Georgian Bay, Ontario Canada
August 24,25 Hermit Island Maine
October 14, Stone Bridge
December 2, Gloucester MA

Sadly, only 14 days of paddling  (but some really nice ones!)

Stone Bridge on a good day

Three years ago, almost to the day, I planned a paddle in the currents of Stone Bridge. The forecast was dire but the paddling never really lived up to the hype. This year Bob made similar plans. He was a bit more lucky.

The key to excitement at Stone Bridge is opposing wind and current. We have been out there when the current is running strong but standing waves won’t form due to lack of wind. The fast moving flat water provides its own challenges. Crossing the eddy lines in the long sea kayaks can be a bit disconcerting. But it’s not fun.

It was Wednesday when Bob started suggesting the paddle. That’s a little early for me to commit to anything. Especially when the commute is two hours long and I haven’t been on the water for almost three months. By Friday I could see that the temperatures would be reasonable (low 50s with sun) and the winds would have potential (high teens from the SW). In addition, all the other little life events seemed to be indicating a free day. The only remaining factor was how would my body feel on Saturday morning.

Saturday came. Out of bed a little after 5am. A cup of coffee and the hunt for all my winter kayak gear took about an hour. Loading the boat in the 32 degree temperatures took a while. I located my “land based” digital camera with the 10x zoom so Keri could take pictures from the base of the bridge (it needed charging). We were off by a little after 7.

Stop at Dunkin Doughnuts for a muffin. Stop at Cumberland Farms for a Gatorade and a couple of granola bars that I’d forgotten. Search for a place to pee. …. Arrive at Stone Bridge around 9am. Well before anybody else!

Eventually Tim arrived, then Bob and Tony and Jon and Todd and Rich. We began to suit up and prepare the boats. The wind was blowing and the water had some shape to it already. I put on more layers than I expected I’d need and struggled with a sticky dry suit zipper that needs fresh wax. Finally, with a “look out for each other” pep talk from Tim we were on the water.

I felt OK in front of the beach but as I made my first tentative pass through the slop I felt like it was going to be a short wet day. I felt so uncomfortable in my boat. Going directly from time off to testing conditions was a bit too ambitious. I fired up a little adrenaline and I made it through. I played a bit around the edges and before I knew it I was in the middle and comfortable. “It’s like riding a bike!”

Once I became comfortable in the boat the conditions appeared a bit tame. There was current and there was wind and the resulting waves but they weren’t overly large. We all began to hope for boats to pass through and stir things up. Tim used his time to focus on skills. Crossing the eddy lines, crossing the rough areas as opposed to traveling directly up and down them. Rich went ashore to peel off some layers. The conditions seemed to go even flatter. Jon and I were having a little conversation at the down current end watching the others up by the buoys.



Suddenly our boats were bouncing in some good standing waves. Jon and I recommenced playing. I called Todd over to our spot. But in a matter of minutes the whole area came back to life. I think the wind had shifted and increased a bit. We made our way to the buoys and things were getting exciting. Exciting enough that most people began to stay ahead of the slop. Backing in for a little excitement and pulling back forward to gain composure. At the transition there were many short wave length three footers. Not quite standing waves but chaotic transients with unpredictable direction sometimes almost abeam.



At this point I felt like I was beginning to run out of talent. My boat, very light because there was nothing in the bulkheads was being turned up wind from behind unless the skeg was down. Then, in the flat area, I needed skeg up to get the boat to turn back up wind. Generally, I don’t like to use the skeg. I feel like if I need it “I’m” doing something wrong. It has its place. It is great for balancing a boat to help hold a heading while paddling. But this was different. I needed skeg just to get the boat to do what I wanted. And if I need to be fiddling with the skeg to move the boat around in conditions it was only a matter of time before I was upside down.



I was also hot and thirsty. It felt like the right time to go over and take a break and get some Gatorade in me. I got out of the boat for a few minutes and talked with Keri, Tim (who was also taking a breather), and some spectators wondering what was going on.

I returned to the current for some more play. I wanted to make a run into the wind but it was a real struggle to get the boat to point that way. Wind at this point was more influential than the current. In hind sight, the nearby buoy reports indicated steady 20 to 25 MPH winds from the SSW with gusts near 30. It didn’t seem that windy from a wind in your face point of view but it certainly did from a boat handling perspective.

Then, far up wind, I could see Tim’s boat upside down and only Bob was near him. Rich and Tony were off the water. Todd was near me (I think). And Jon was taking a break (I think). I felt I needed to get there quickly. I decided to go the longer route around the channel where the water was a bit less lively. If Tim was upside down the conditions were formidable. I did not want to be “another” casualty. I was surprised how quickly I got there given that I was struggling to go up wind just moments earlier.

As I approached I could see that Tim was separated from his boat. Bob was struggling to collect the boat and Tim was attempting to paddle-swim towards it. I paused to set up my tow belt. I was assuming it would be helpful to tow the two of them out of the area of rough water and towards the east where things were a little more tame.



… flash back to the beach before we launched… Tim and Bob were discussing “break away” connections for their tow belts. Many paddlers pull the hook of the tow belt out of the pouch and clip it to their vest. This makes it much easier to grab in times just like this one. I need to take both hands off the paddle to fumble with the pouch and find the hook. This leaves me unable to brace for short periods of time. The counter problem is that if the hook is out of the pouch there is a short length of rope out with it that becomes one more thing to get tangled up in. Tim just tucks his into his vest. It is not hooked to anything and can easily be pulled out. Others clip to a “break away” or “quick release” loop. This allows you to easily disconnect should the short length of exposed rope get tangled. … flash to the future… I need to decide on my method. In real conditions fumbling for the clip of the tow rope is not acceptable. I’ve managed to not get in trouble so far but when seconds count accessibility is important. I don’t want to tip over fumbling with my tow rope when somebody else needs a rescue…. Back to the present…

Tim and his boat do not seem to be converging. Bob is dealing with Tim’s boat so I decide to go to Tim and try and bring him to the boat by letting him hold on to or climb up on my bow. As I am doing this the four interested parties (Tim, Paul, Bob, and the Boat) seem to converge. I switch to performing the rescue.



Grab the boat: it’s already upright because Bob was towing it. It is difficult to grab because everything is bouncing up and down on the waves.
Drain the boat: there is not a lot of water in the boat but it seems appropriate to drain it. We are a good distance from land and it will be much easier to paddle empty. Things feel pretty stable once I am well connected to the boat.
Stow the paddles: This is usually where I go wrong in a rescue. When I try and tuck them under a deck line they often seem to end up askew and out of reach or a blade ends up in the water almost pulling me over. I put my paddle into my paddle biner on my deck. I attempt to hold Tim’s paddle under my arm between the boats. The paddle of course ends up in the water between the boats but I keep an eye on it and this time it doesn’t get away. I need to master tucking the paddle under the deck line quickly with one hand.
Get Tim in the boat: Tim’s a big guy. He has a lot of experience getting into the boat but he doesn’t just ‘pop’ in and it’s hard to keep his boat flat during the transition. We suck some water into the boat in the process but not too bad.
Attach the spray skirt: The skirt is always a bit of a problem. Tim gets it mostly on but I spend some time helping him get a section behind him pulled properly over the combing.

Meanwhile… Bob is upside down. I’m not sure exactly when it happened but he got his paddle tangled in his own tow line and went over. Fortunately Jon and Todd headed over to help him. Todd gets him in his boat, Jon retrieves his paddle. After finishing up with Tim I headed over to Bob and helped stabilize the rescue.
After the rescues Jon and I headed back for one more pass. When I realized everyone else was headed directly for the beach I decided to stay on the edge of the chop and keep an eye on Jon. He had just gotten back on the water and probably wanted to stay longer but we both returned to the beach.

After we finished, Jon commended Tim for holding his paddle vertically above him while he was in the water. From the distance it was all that Jon could see to locate where Tim was. We also discussed that Tim ended up in the water after a failed roll that Bob had encouraged him to attempt. In the end it made for some great practice in conditions.

I know I say this all the time but it was another great day on the water. We got the chop we were looking for, I re-acclimated to my boat relatively quickly, and I got to spend some time with friends I haven’t seen for a few months. Can it get any better?

11/12/2011 Stone Bridge, Sunny and low 50s, Water mid 50s, winds SSW at 15 building to 25

Stonington, ME

It was August already and I still hadn’t been kayak camping this year. We often pop up to Casco Bay but that did not seem remote enough. Muscongas is beautiful but it is the location of my last Maine Island trip. It was just Keri and I so I thought the familiarity of Deer Island would be a good thing. But I did not want to repeat the previous trip to Stonington. We chose to launch from Naskeag Point and see where the paddling would get us.

We left on a Wednesday. It was a rainy day but the forecast was favorable for the rest of the week. We had prepared very little and spent the morning packing. It was around lunchtime when we left, stopping for Lebanese food in Methuen, Kittery trading post for Wag Bags, a lobster roll in Wiskasett, then iced coffee and some more bread for lunches on the water. We rolled into Bucksport around 7 pm and checked into an inexpensive hotel. Our plan was an early launch on Thursday morning.

It was a bit gray on the ride to Brooklin. At the launch it was foggy. We could see the first island less than ¼ mile away. We couldn’t see the second at ½ mile. I packed the boats in a whirlwind. Keri felt a bit helpless just watching me. We need to practice this a bit but I wanted to get her boat balanced as best I could to help with the handling and stability. And I was a bit nervous about the fog…

I had map, compass, GPS, and limited visibility. We had all day to find a spot and could camp on two Islands within a ½ mile of the launch so there was no rush or urgency to push into danger. But I did want to go further than a mile. We chose to paddle from visible island to visible island and take it one island at a time. The ¾ mile crossing was the most sketchy. We waited till the fog thinned a little and went for it. We did this hopping six times. We settled in on the Lazyguts Thrumcaps. It is a new Island on the Maine Island Trail and was absolutely beautiful. It had only one tent sight set in the woods on deep, soft, (and dry), peat soil. There was very little landing opportunity on the granite at high tide but as the tide dropped a gently sloped beach made mostly of barnacle shells revealed itself.


Lazyguts Thrumcaps Islands

The fog never quite went away all day Thursday. We settled into our island exploring the amenities and harvesting our first snack of Mussels. (We had checked for shellfish closures before we left the mainland.) During the night it “rained” fog on our tent. The spruce trees were wringing the moisture out of the fog. I could not believe it wasn’t rain. I actually went out on the rocks just to prove it to myself.


Afternoon Snack

Friday morning was sunny and calm. A seal pup explored the rocks near our tent. He would expose his cute little tail flippers before diving. We loaded lunch and drinks into the kayaks and headed over to the islands in front of Stonington. We saw some seals and some beautiful islands. Coming back we made a few long crossings. None quite as far or as treacherous as the Johnstone Strait crossing we are preparing for. But good practice none the less. Back on our Island we snacked on meat we brought back from Spain, 5 year old Gouda, and some more mussels!


Looking North to Stonington

The moon was nearly full and we were treated to a sun set and a moon rise that opposed each other and lined up perfectly with the gap between our islands. As the sun set we saw a head pop up just off the island and heard a squeak. I had never heard a seal make that sound before. Minutes later we heard more squeaking and saw a pair of otters frolicking on the rock weed near the water. I tried to take a picture but brown otters on brown sea weed in low light results in a “you have to just believe me that those are otters” photo!


Sunset looking one way...


Full Moon looking the other!

On Saturday we choose to head inland a bit and we did a circumnavigation of Stinson Neck. This included a portage over the causeway to avoid backtracking. We poked into Western Cove hoping to buy a few lobsters. There was only one boat with crew aboard and he was just cleaning up the boat. As it turns out there is no “pot pulling” on Sunday. Sunday starts officially at 4pm on Saturday. We would not appreciate until the next morning the quiet of not having all the lobster boats out. As usual, we snacked on meat, cheese, and mussels.


East to Mount Desert Island

Sunday was overcast as we packed up our boats. I took the time to explain to Keri my logic with loading the boats. The new roll up crazy creek chairs we got at REI pack perfectly along the skeg box. With 5 less gallons of water and some empty food bags the loading went very easy. I still choose to pack the sleeping bags in dry bags in front of my feet in the cockpit. I’ve got a new dry bag compression sack which worked perfectly from the fitting point of view. One of these days I’m going to flip over and find out just how waterproof the dry bags really are.

While packing the fog was slowly rolling in. When it came time to launch we could not see the Island 0.2 miles away. I set a heading that I thought would skim the island and head toward Stinson Neck. On the water our boats were twisted around by the currents. We were a bit lackadaisical about holding a compass heading and finally saw land. We approached and checked the GPS. We found we had made a big arc and were on the opposite side of the island we were headed to. With new appreciation I picked a new heading and held our course tightly. We arrived at our second waypoint with much less trouble. The visibility was still poor so we hugged the shore. I was preparing Keri for what was going to be a blind crossing. Holding a course with both wind and tide skewing us inshore we were sure to reach our destination shoreline. But if we didn’t hit any of the islands along the way it was going to be two miles. Again, I had the GPS but I always consider it the back up. If I’m not comfortable with map and compass I’m not going.


Fog when we started... Fog again as we left.

Fortunately, as we headed inland we popped out of the fog. Our path was to be right along the interface between fog and clear air. We started across and as we did the fog receded even more. All was to be uneventful.

It was a very relaxing 4 days in the Jericho bay area of Maine. The Maine Island trail is an incredible resource. If you’ve ever been frustrated by lack of shore access you might consider becoming a member. They are a model that other water trail activities are emulating. And as much as I’d like to keep it personnel secret, the more people who help who use it responsibly and preserve it the better.

August 11, 12, 13, 14, generally light winds increasing out of the SW into the afternoon. Air 60-70+, water 55 degrees.