Javelin 2015

Javelin 2016 Cruise July 28 - August 16

Javelin 5/2016 By Rebecca Jonas

Once again, Steve Blecher's 53' J-160 Javelin takes a tried and true crew on a cruise. The Crew:
Steve (Dartmouth '64) boat Javelin, home port Westbrook, CT
Rick Van Mell (Dartmouth '63), boat Vanishing Animal, home port San Francisco Bay
Brian Klinger (Dartmouth '62), ex-boat Special K
Paul Wharton (Duke '64), boat Golden Eye, home port Stamford, CT
Michael Luskin (Harvard '73) boat Turtleheart, home port Mamaroneck, NY
Jess Gregory, boat Sea Hawk, home port Keyport, NJ

Steve's swinging for the fences on this one. It's Canadian waters or bust, with destinations of Cross/Mink Island, whale watching southeast of Grand Manan I., and at look at Machias Seal Island as our farthest east points. Then it's back along familiar anchorages and a chance to see friends along the way. Here's a link to The Plan, and the Shopping List, but you'll just have to read on to see what happened when the wind hits the plan! .

Pictures by Paul, Michael, Jess and Rick, and are grouped between days. There may even be a few movie clips too.

The table below summarizes daily runs and the date is a link to that day's log. Elapsed time is generally time under way and has sometimes been adjusted for lunch stops. Cells with a darker background color represent changes from the original Plan.

Wednesday, July 27th

Rick touched down early at JFK and was picked up by Steve and Amy at 1806. Circling to the American terminal we dropped Amy off for a flight for two weeks on a cruise from england to Scotland and Ireland. Rick & Steve headed back north to Scarsdale for a Japanese dinner, a double check of food supplies at the house against the shopping list,a little watching the Yankees lose, and off to bed.

Meanwhile, Paul and family were out near Greenwich Point aboard Golden Eye catching porgy for the afternoon, and gets the honor of our first picture.

Go To Log Summary

Thursday, July 28th

"Rise and Shine," Steve chimed over the intercom at 0600. Showered, shaved, breakfast and checked the weather yet another time before heading out the door to start the last shopping run when the ACME Market opened at 0700. (Steve wouldn't have it any other way.)

Practically set a quick-time shopping record getting the last of the fresh fruit, milk, eggs, fresh & frozen vegetables, and bread stacked into two big carts and out the door by 0748. Driving back to the house, Steve called Paul to say we were ready to go when he got there.

Having moved into the City from Scarsdale, Elly now had to drive Paul back out to Scarsdale with his duffel bags and the treasured 2 frozen lasagnas and turkey chili dinners he so perfectly prepares for the cruise.

"The Truck," as Steve calls his SUV, was fully packed to the gills and we were on the road by 0923. It had been mid to upper 80s all morning with high humidity and little wind. When we arrived at the marina in Westbrook at 1053, the first thing we did was turn on the air conditioning. Then we used two big carts to relay duffels and food down the dock to the boat. Each load was passed below in chain-gang fashion with one person on the dock handing things aboard to a second person to be placed in the cockpit. Then it was repeated with one person on deck and the second below to catch things. Further, though the yard had turned on the 110 volt refrigeration system, the system had not cooled down, so we started the engine and used the engine-driven compressor to cool all the food.

It was all accomplished by 1156 and we departed the slip for the fuel dock to top off the port tank with diesel. Alas, the yard's pump system was down, and it would be a bit longer before we could fuel. So we made the best of it and enjoyed sandwiches for lunch. Steve hadn't even finished his second half when the pumps were declared ready and we pumped 30 gallons aboard for now a grand total of about 75 gallons and departed for the cruise at 1228.

The log recorded just 3 knots of wind, and now a sunny/hazy fog drifted across the water. It wasn't quite enough to need the radar, but made for muggy start. An hour later we cleared the east end of Long Sand Shoal, and an hour after that, at 1426, there was enough wind to roll out the jib to increase boat speed to about 9 knots. With the flood current building against us, we were only making about 7.5 knots over the bottom.

Two hours later, at 1608 we left Connecticut waters and crossed into Rhode Island at Watch Hill. Already the Wind Had Hit The Plan. Though we have been in sunshine all day with just shore-based cumulus clouds around, the cell phone weather radar showed a line of strong thunderstorms marching east across Pennsylvania and due to arrive overnight or Friday. Our initial destination had been West Harbor at the west end of Fisher's Island, a short 25 miles from Westbrook. But, that leaves a 78 mile run to Sandwich at the east end of the Cape Cod Canal for Friday. To minimize the time on the water for the projected rainy Friday, we've elected to push on past Watch Hill, Pt. Judith, and Newport to anchor in the Sakonnet River, leaving only about half the distance, or 40 miles, for Friday.

With the precision of GPS navigation, we rounded the G1 can at the entrance to Sakonnet River at 1934, the time Rick had reported to Steve when asked back at Pt. Judith an hour an a half ago. There was no sunset as the sun slipped behind a wall of fog and stratus to the west. Color disappeared and the water and land became a greyscale with diminishing contrast as we rounded into the anchorage behind the headland at 1956 and routinely dropped anchor.

We turned on the air conditioning to drive down temperature and humidity and started dinner. Paul's turkey chili over rice with a deconstructed salad was quickly finished. We checked in with Brian by phone and relayed a last shopping order for some double A batteries and more diet Brisk iced tea. Steve made noises about an 0600 departure, and, with only about 40 miles to go on Friday, while there was no outright mutiny, there were grumblings of, "Let's get up by 0700 and see what it looks like." By the time dinner was cleaned up, everyone headed for their bunks at 2200.

Paul's head start	Paul's gear aboard ...	Steve's gear ...	Rick's gear (and goodies) ...	getting stowed ...
Food coming aboard ...	more food ...	wine ...	Bread shelf set ...	freezer full ...
fridge getting there ...	fresh basket ready ...	where does this go?	Double pretzels.	Empty bags.
Looking trim ...	stowed looking forward	Galley clean and ...	clear.	Steve sets up ...
navigation route.	Leaving slip 11:56	Paul's ready ...	clouds up north.	Lunch before fueling.
Approaching ...	Fisher's Island	Jib is set.	fast through water ...	slower over ground.
Approaching ...	Watch Hill ...	buoy to starboard ...	and port.	Watching for ...
ferry to starboard ...	ferry to port ...	into Pt. Judith ...	just ahead ...	up close.
dinner is cooking ...	Paul is checking ...	weather to the west.	Enough screens?	Approaching Sakonnet R ...
Anchored.	Great dinner.	Bunk time.

Go To Log Summary

Friday, July 29th

Steve was indeed up and making noise around 0600, and checking weather radar seeing only blues and greens - light rain as opposed to heavy rain in yellows and reds - marshaled the crew (before coffee or breakfast) for departure.

Even a trio of early morning swimmers didn't distract Steve & Paul as they went forward to haul the anchor. Alas, when they plugged in the hand-held up/down control (lovingly nicknamed "the pickle")it would run the windlass in the down direction, but refused to pull up. Rather than try to debug the problem at the time, Captain Blecher assailed all hands to heave ho on the anchor line. With no wind and flat water the 50' of anchor line, and then 45' of chain was hauled slowly on deck by hand. When the anchor itself reached the bow roller, the shackle joining the chain to the anchor proved to be too heavy to haul over the right angle and bring the anchor aboard. Locking off the chain, we tied a small line to the shackle, then used a spinnaker halyard on a winch to easily bring it out the last two feet. With the anchor aboard (and now drifting toward other anchored boats), Steve put Javelin in gear and we steamed out of the anchorage at 0651 making 7.9 knots as Rick tended the log and navigation and Paul manually fed the anchor line and chain down through the deck into the anchor locker.

By 0719 we turned east at the R2 entrance to Sakonnet River to cross the rest of Rhode Island Sound headed for Buzzards Bay. Fog thickened and we ran under radar watch, and at 0748 even turned on navigation lights. By 0814 we passed G1 into Buzzards Bay, and passed a few boats we saw on radar. At 0859 a power boat overtaking us from astern about can G7 turned out to be Bob Johnstone of J Boats (of which Javelin is a J-160) on the 50' MJM and Steve called across that we would be in NE Harbor on August 2nd and 7th and hoped to see him there. The "MJM" stands for Mary Johnstone's Motorboat!

The good news was that the fog had lifted and visibility improved to a mile or more. The bad news was that it was raining a little harder and we closed the ports. Sauna time below. Rick brought the log up to date. Rick & Paul cleaned up the contacts on the "Pickle" and it passed a continuity test, but still didn't make the "up" work.

Rain continued steadily as we motored up Buzzards Bay. The tall towers of the Cape Cod Canal Railroad Bridge loomed out of the gray sky as the fog lifted. We converged with the deepwater channel just below the breakwater and powered against the last of the opposing current into the canal. The railroad bridge lowered just after we had passed, and a light fog appeared just on the left side of the canal as we worked past the two bridges and arrived at Sandwich at 1220.

We tied to the fuel dock and Steve managed to dry off the deck around the filler pipe with Paul holding an umbrella over him and get 16 gallons into the tank. Not so lucky on the starboard side because water was running down the deck. We gave up and moved to our berth on the long dock for the day. Fueling will wait until a dry slot, or 0600 Saturday morning. It was time to take off wet gear, run the air conditioning to reduce humidity, and finally make an Internet connection to upload the log.

At 1500 the rain had stopped and we moved back to the fuel dock and topped off the starboard tank with 36.4 gallons - now Captain Bligh can demand a zero-dark-thirty departure.

Having finished off one chore, Rick & Steve set to work to remove the extra large shackle that had been installed between the anchor chain swivel and the anchor - the one that we couldn't drag over the bow roller. That removed, Rick & Paul once again turned to the Pickle. More cleaning of the Pickle contacts did nothing to resolve the problem. Rick crawled down into the forward locker and stuck his head into the chain locker where he discovered that the contacts on the other end of the wire, at the relay box, also looked corroded. An emery board and cotter pin scratched away at the crud, and low and behold we had down AND up. A cheer was given by all hands that the anchor crew didn't have to sing yo-heave-ho the rest of the cruise. We retired below to get ourselves cleaned up to await the arrival of Jay & Hasty Evans.

Jay & Hasty arrived about 1730 and we enjoyed catching up for about an hour before heading up the dock for dinner at The Pilot House restaurant. We were reluctant to say good night, but it was going to be a race between the sun just setting and Javelin to see who would be up first tomorrow morning. The crew turned in by 9:30, anticipating an 0530 departure in the morning for Wentworth Marina in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, 80 miles and about 10 hours to the north past Boston and around Cape Ann.

0635 swimmers don't ...	distract anchor crew ...	Paul tries control, windlass ...	won't pull up ...	hauling by hand.
Under way in fog ...	Saw him on radar.	MJM alongside ...	Bob Johnstone	Paul checks ...
Steve steers.	Cape Cod Canal ...	channel.	Mass Maritime ship ...	RR Bridge ...
outbound traffic.	Lunch.	Mass Maritime's Kennedy	Tug Independance	the complex.
Cape Cod Canal at RR Bridge	Paul gets us ...	under the RR Bridge.	Big tug and ...	bigger barge.
Getting darker ...	Bourne Bridge ...	Canal on radar ...	fog on water .	Another ...
tall rig.	New murals ...	hand painted.	At Sandwich	All secure ...
along the dock ...	looking at dinner restaurant.	Jay and Hasty join us ...	for dinner.	New dockmate.

Go To Log Summary

Saturday, July 30th

"Zero Four Fifty," rang through the cabin. Steve was up, and now the crew was awake. By 0500, as you can see below, the nav computers were up and running. By 0513, the crew was up and dressed, orange and cranberry juice had been consumed, the engine oil had been checked, the seacock for the forward head had been closed in case we had rough seas, the 40 pound power cord had been disconnected, coiled, and lashed in place, the kettle was perking on the stove for coffee water, the ensign put in place at the stern, the dock lines had been cleared, the radar had been set to transmit, and Javelin was under way into thick fog.

We cleared the end of the Cape Cod Canal buoys into Cape Cod Bay and turned onto our 53 mile leg, at 011 degrees, heading for Cape Ann northeast of Boston, at 0524. Ten minutes later the radar showed a boat ahead and we passed a fishing boat close aboard in the fog. Hot coffee and gruel were served to the crew. Maple and brown sugar oatmeal with raisins, cranberries and bananas served as gruel. A rising, hazy sun reflected on the silver water and above the blue of the sky could be seen through the thin fog layer.

0700 we are abeam of Plymouth, MA, of Plymouth Rock fame where about 400 years ago the Pilgrims weathered their first winter. We track steadily north with no wind, clearing the tip of Cape Cod at Provincetown, 11 miles to the east at 0725, then across Massachusetts Bay, passing Boston 21 miles to the west at 0945.

By now the sun was bright and the predicted north wind increased to about 10 - 12 knots for about an hour, then started to fade and shift slowly to the east. A glorious day to be on the water -- but we were still a powerboat with the wind dead ahead. The Cape Ann waypoint was passed at 1216 and turned 13 degrees to port aimed at Wentworth Marina in Portsmouth. Lunch sandwiches were welcomed,and now sun screen and cold liquid were in order for the last three hours into port. We called Brian, and he will meet us when we arrive.

We throttled down at 1506 entering Little Harbor and slowly worked our way to the Wentworth Marina fuel dock. 24.9 gallons added to the port diesel tank, and both holding tanks emptied, Steve neatly backed us into our slip by 1531. Brian arrived just as we were washing off the day's salt accumulation, turning on the air conditioning (it was 85 degrees below when we started), and recording the log.

Having stowed his gear, Brian departed and returned with Lise for cocktail hour about 5:30, then off to dinner at the Oar House in Portsmouth. Downtown Portsmouth was jumping on a Saturday night and by the time we emerged from the stone and beams ambiance of the Oar House around 9:00, the streets were filled with people enjoying the cool of the evening. With another early departure on Sunday, we said good bye to Lise who drove home, leaving Brian aboard as our additional crew.

Yes, 0500	Breakfast juice	"I see it ..."	Fishing boat in fog.	Sandwich to Wentworth course
Sun?	Fog has cleared ...	bright ahead ...	clear aloft.	easy going.
Relaxed ...	after lunch.	Isles of Shoals on horizon	Lobster boat came ...	close astern.
Approaching Wentworth	Into the harbor ...	marina side ...	welcoming committee.	Wentworth slip.
In her slip ...	looking sharp ...	and clean.	Brian & Lise arrive ...	welcome aboard ...
new "sail step" ...	makes it easy ...	cheers.	Long dock ...	big boats ...
want one?

Go To Log Summary

Sunday, July 31st

Unfortunately the weather forecast proved all too accurate. Sunny Saturday skies vanished behind a grey gloom Sunday morning, with black rain visible to the southeast over Cape Ann. Captain Steve had mercy on the crew -- we departed almost a full 27 minutes later this morning at 0540. Same routine: get up; get dressed; set up ship for sea; cast off; orange juice, cereal & coffee after we had cleared the harbor and were powering on our way.

"Going down east" is the familiar ring of Maine cruising. Given the northeast slant of the Maine coastline from Portsmouth to the Canadian border, and 16 degrees of westerly compass variation, our course on the long 60 mile leg to Bantam Rock was 63 degrees, just 27 degrees north of east. Bantam Rock is typical of dozens, if not hundreds, of charted rocks in Maine waters that are just below the surface or awash at low tide. Many are named for the unfortunate ship or captain that found them the hard way over hundreds of years. Bantam rock lies about a mile and a quarter south of Damariscove Island, in otherwise open water with 185'depth on one side and 165 on the other, but awash at low tide. Boothbay Harbor lies 7 miles north and a little west, and Pemaquid Point 7.5 miles north and a little east. Our route takes us between Damariscove and Heron Islands, across the mouth of the Damariscotta River into the tiny Thread of Life cut into the side of Johns Bay, and then to Poorhouse Cove on Johns River.

Northeast wind, almost to 12 knots, gave us a lumpy ride for a while, then steady rain, before both the wind and rain vanished by lunch time, leaving us a colorless object sliding over a colorless sea. It's 1300 and the coast is visible in front of us. Seguin Island ("Turtle" in Indian language) is just under 4 miles to our left and Bantam Rock 7 miles ahead. In the picture "Approaching Bantam Rock," the green icon at the bottom is Javelin, and the green line is our route to Poorhouse Cove which is above this image. The Kennebec River is along the left edge, and it leads to Bath, Maine, where the Navy's missile ships are built. Next right is the wide bay leading into the Sheepscot River, and Booth Bay, with Boothbay Harbor, ME at the black square at the top of the image. Just to the right, Linekin Bay is another of Javelin's favorite anchorages. Where the green line gets lost in the blue clutter of waypoints, that's the Thread Of Life between the Damariscotta River and Johns Bay.

A reflection of our mood after six hours of monotonous engine drone: Rick noted, "We've got enough sun to cast a shadow on the deck!" "What did you expect," replied Paul, "it's Sunday."

We passed Bantam Rock at 1340 and you can see how even the very gentle swell breaks over the solid rock just at the surface - no place for a boat to be! Powering between Damariscove and Outer Heron Islands, we headed through the Thread Of Life and into Johns River by 1441, and anchored in Poorhouse Cove by 1515. Rick and Sherry Tonge's J-42 Juliet was neatly anchored there waiting for us.

They paddled their dinghy over shortly after we anchored, and, having agreed we were ready for appetizers, Sherry volunteered to go back to Juliet to get her special treats. Just for fun, Steve tied a line to their dinghy and added three more so Sherry could paddle over, but we could pull her back with the goodies. Well worth the fun as Sherry brought a platter of fresh lobster, guacamole and chips, and brownies still hot from their oven.

As we enjoyed this feast, Rick fixed up spaghetti and meatballs with a side salad. At the end of dinner, Sherry's brownies were topped with fresh blueberries Brian had brought aboard at Wentworth and whipped cream. It may not have been quite "million dollar light," but the red hues of sunset and the mirror-glazed water gave almost spiritual reflections of land, sky and Juliet.

Sunday morning ...	gloom.	Rain on watch.	Lunch, no wind.	Paul's on watch ...
Brian's watching ...	Approaching Bantam Rock	At Bantam Rock	There it is ...	Bantam Rock Buoy
Waves breaking ..	on Bantam Rock.	Old CG Station on Damariscove I.	Along Damariscove ...	rocky shore ...
Outer Heron I. ...	getting closer.	Keen lookout ...	spots ...	kayakers ...
and lobster pots.	Thread of Life	Entering ...	nice house ...	getting narrow ...
come left ...	the other end.	houses and ...	rocks ...	close by ...
almost out ...	the end.	Up the river ...	last buoy ...	low tide ...
around the point ...	keep off ...	Juliet ...	looks great.	Anchor detail.
In Poorhouse Cove	Here come ...	Rick & Sherry ...	Steve rigs ...	long painter!
Arrived!	Back aboard with ...	fresh lobster and ...	brownies.	Thank you Sherry!
Juliet ...	sparkles.	Almost set ...	Reflections ...	wide, with ...
smiles.	Steve too ...	plus Paul and Brian.	Ready for ...	sunset.
Good night.

Go To Log Summary

Monday, August 1st

Steve couldn't help himself as he stepped on deck and said in a firm, clear tone, to no one (but everyone) in particular, "It's six - thirty." As we finished our eggs for breakfast about 0745, we thanked Steve for letting us "sleep in." "But," he replied, "by this time I've usually been in the office for an hour and a half."

A bright sun relfected on the still smooth water as Paul & Brian brought up the anchor. Though the windlass worked flawlessly, it still took almost 20 minutes of hosing the mud off the anchor chain because it had been lying on the bottom all night with no wind. We were under way at 0841.

As predicted, an overcast sky soon obscured the sun and we powered along on an oily sea. At 0922 we spotted a whale close aboard to starboard and managed to get a picture of it as it surfaced about three times before swimming off into the deep.

Always one to cause trouble, Rick was talking to Brian and noted that our present speed would get us to Steve's planned anchorage, Steve Island, a little before 1500, and perhaps we might consider pushing on a bit farther to find a new anchorage we haven't been to before. Captain Steve overheard this and, after some musing, said, "If you REALLY don't like Steve Island, I've got two suggestions." Using a staccato tapping of the arrow and + / - keys, Steve quickly brought the ship's computer screen to the northwest corner of Swans Island and a sheltered bay behind Buckle Island with 10 - 17 feet of water, sheltered by Swans Island to the east, but open due north. Option 2 was up Blue Hill Bay behind Moose Island on the west side of Mt. Desert Island, sheltered from all but a northwest wind, with 14 feet of water. As we arrive in Merchant Row, with Steve Island on the western end, we'll make a decision.

We passed the Two Bush Island waypoint at the bottom of Penobscot Bay at noon and headed the 11 miles on a course of 085 degrees magnetic for the southern end of Vinalhaven Island. We had an ebb current almost directly across our route and this then required hand sterring to avoid the colorful patchwork quilt of lobster pots strewn along the way. Reading the chart names of the little bits of rock and islands along Vinalhaven again reminds us of the impact of nature and James & Willies Ledge; Deadman Ledge; Heron Neck Ledge; The Breakers; Old Horse Ledge; Channel Rock; Roberts Island; Otter Island; Otter I. Ledge; Hay Islands; Carvers Island; Sheep Ledge; Litte Brimstone Island; Buffalo Ledge; Crosby Ledge; and Triangle Ledge to name a few. Another five miles takes us across the eastern exit of Penobscot Bay and into Merchant Row above Isle Au Haut.

We entered the western end of Merchant Row and arrived at Steve Island at 1451, then decided to continue on to try Buckle Harbor. The sky is still overcast and the temperature cool enough to warrant a jacket when standing watch in the self-created wind. It's a short 2 miles to the can at "Colby Pup" rock, then 5 miles northeast up Jericho Bay to the top of Swans Island. Along the way we spotted a number of tourist boats, probably out of Camden, ghosting along in the light breeze or under power.

We turned off the channel at the top of Swans Island into Buckle Harbor at 1600 and had the anchor set and engine off at1611. Time to relax, read and work the log before dinner, then on to "The Wild Bunch" with William Holden, Ernest Borgnine, and Robert Ryan. A gentle patter of rain on the cabintop lulled us off to sleep at 2200.

Monday morning dishes.	Picture perfect	(but no wind) ...	Anchor crew ...	"Let's go."
Lobster boat.	Whale Ho!	Lazy afternoon	Tourist schooner	Tourist ketch
Yet another	Approaching ...	Egg Rock (1 of dozens!)	Swans Island	Swans I - Buckle Hbr
The chase is on ...	catching up ...	with Angelique	she's big ...	they are ...
watching us ...	forward too ...	pretty, and now ...	astern.	Welcoming party ...
at Buckle Harbor	In Buckle Harbor	Buckle Hbr Tide	Riding sail set.	Low tide on a ...
A quiet evening.	Movie night "The Wild Bunch"

Go To Log Summary

Tuesday, August 2nd

A bright sunny morning with a light breeze encouraged us to try the new Hamilton Beach Double Breakfast Sandwich Maker contributed by Hank Jonas. Following the instructions to a T, we sliced English Muffins, piled a slice each of ham and cheese on top of the bottom half of the muffin to the lower rings, then lowered the plates and upper rings and cracked an egg into each, finally adding the top of the muffin. Close it up and set the timer at 4 minutes -- then wait. Nice breakfast sandwiches were the result. While Steve and Paul started eating, Rick made two more for himself and Brian. Galley cleaned up, the anchor crew of Paul and Brian masterfully did their job with the willing windlass and we were off toward NE Harbor at 0826.

Our route carried us past Bass Harbor Light, a quintisential lighthouse complete with a white house and red roof and conical light tower. It sits on the southern-most point on Mt. Desert Island, with Great Gott Island about 3/4 miles farther south. If you were standing at the light, the wide bay stretching away to the east and west would look most inviting for a good day's sail. However, between you and Great Gott there is a rocky bar with only about 8 feet of water - shallow enough to do great damage to larger ships. A narrow channel has been dug near Bass Harbor Light with large buoys at the east and west ends to safely cross the bar.

Clouds again drifted across the sky enroute to NE Harbor, but when we arrived at Clifton dock at 1008 for fuel the sun was out and warming things up. 39.6 gallons of diesel in the port tank, we moved to the NE Harbor docks and pumped out the holding tanks and shifted to our slip by 1044. By 1120 the shore water was connected and the boat washed down to look ship-shape among the big powerboats that make even 53' Javelin look small.

Hardly had we settled down to getting Internet connections and updating the log, when new crew arrived. Michael Luskin, wife Judy, and their friends Jessie & Kathleen Liebman from Belfast, Maine got the royal tour of Javelin, then we all walked up to the Docksider for a delicious lunch featuring an assortment of lobster rolls, clams or haddock sandwiches. Judy, Jessie and Kathleen departed, leaving Michael and Brian to boat chores, while Steve, Rick & Paul turned up Sea Street to go to the hardware store and Pine Tree Market.

Boats are essentially one continuous project. Today's quests were four fold:
1) replace the pushbutton switch on the port cabin reading light - no luck, but ordered for arrival on our return next Sunday;
2) replace the old, beyond cleaning-up baking pan that EXACTLY slides into the oven - mission accomplished;
3) replace the temperamental light over the gally stove - no luck;
4) reprovision at Pine Tree Market, the ONLY close to full service store in walking distance from a dock along our whole cruise Plan - mission accomplished.

Paul and Rick did laundry in the newly refurbished Yachtsman's Center at the top of the docks - a nice improvement on having to carry laundry all the way up to the basement of the Pine Tree Market which we had done for the past 15 years. Showers ashore or aboard cleaned up the crew to match sparkling Javelin.

We had a brief cocktail hour, checked out the on-line menu of the Tan Turtle Inn - the replacement restaurant in the motel across from the harbor - and decided it was too long on everything and too short on lobster, and walked back to the Docksider for dinner. Lobster all around, with some corn and steamers, chased down by Maine blueberry pie satisfied everyone. Then it was bunk time to dream of fair winds and fine sailing.

Tuesday morning ...	Try the new toy ...	ham and cheese ...	egg too ...	broken ...
top of muffin ...	cooking - 4 min ...	8 more seconds ...	Perfect!	Ready to serve ...
2nd batch ...	Enjoy!	Leaving Buckle Harbor	Bass Harbor Light Passage	West Bass Passage ...
lazy gulls ...	3/4 mile of shallow!	Outbound ...	Little Vigilant	NE Harbor ahead ...
outbound ...	J-40.	Approaching NE Harbor	NE Harbor entrance	In NE Harbor
Harbormaster Office ...	no wind ...	dinghy dock ...	Main dock ...	is full ...
12' down at low tide ...	These are BIG ...	boats, with ...	little Javelin ...	but looks GREAT!

Go To Log Summary

Wednesday, August 3rd

Alas, a dream it was. Wednesday dawned clear, bright and NO WIND. Morning chores included hoisting the spinnaker out of the forward locker to free a stuck float switch which drains water from the compartment, topping off the water tanks, and taking off the mainsail cover for the first time on the cruise. Rick asked Steve if that might be bad luck and being presumptive with the wind gods. We took our chances.

We cast off from our slip at 0736 after a quick oatmeal and fruit breakfast, and powered out of NE Harbor on a glassy sea. Clearing Eastern Way at 0800, Michael had the helm dodging lobster pots as we continued east eight miles across the bottom of Frenchman Bay to Schoodic Point, passing it at 0905. The expression "Down East" takes on almost a wilderness tone once past Schoodic. This 55 mile stretch of coast to Eastport, Maine at the Canadian border has few harbors and even fewer cruising sailboats. There are hundreds of beautiful bays, rocky tree-studded islands, and even a beach or two to explore, and a cruising sailor will usually anchor all alone. We are off to find one.

Another hidden danger for mariners lies eight miles farther at Petit Manan Point. Stretching 2.5 miles south from the point is a reef with as little as 3 feet of water. It too had a buoyed passage through it, and a large light at the southern end. We passed the outer Green can # 1 an additional mile south at 1005. It guards solitary Simms Rock with 6 feet of water with 165 feet on one side and 135 on the other. Two miles farther out, guarded by Red 6A,is Southeast Rock just 5 feet below the surface in similarly deep water.

Captain Steve assesses the situation and makes a command decision. No wind. No fog. No sea. No required destination. Sunshine. New course for: Machias Seal Island. It lies 10 miles out to sea southeast of our Plan destination of Cross Island. On the (US) chart it sits just under 2 miles inside the boundary with Canada, but it stands under the flag and watch of the Canadian Coast Guard - at least that's what the Maine Cruising Guide of 1988 advises.

. Machias Seal Island has been noted in a number of Javelin logs over the years. It's attraction is --- because it's there. We have ventured out from our favorite Cross Island / Mink Island anchorage for the 20 mile round trip only to return without seeing it because the fog was so thick that we didn't dare get close enough to see it. Other times we have rounded it and seen many birds and seals. The guide notes the island is noted for colonies of razor-billed auks, puffins and terns, though both of the former have mostly gone north by mid-August. We'll see what we can verify on our arrival - estimated around 1400.

The hot second batch of Paul's chili over rice made for a delicious lunch. Forty miles out on our track for the day, and 15 miles from Machias Seal Island, we have seen just one sailboat along the entire coast. Our companions along the way have been occasional seals and deep-water lobster pots with their "toggles" floating down current. While they make for an easy way for the lobstermen to snag their pot lines with a grappling hook, they lay a trap for the unwary skipper that puts his bow between the pot buoy and the toggle. We are afternoon adventurers on the undulating sea.

With tide turning against us, our arrival at Machias Seal Island was delayed until 1432, but we arrived with it in full sight. As if to tease us, a tiny strip of fog materialized for about a minute, but we were able to circle the island close aboard, even inside the rocky ledges on the east side. Lots of birds, no seals, strong current. And yes, the Canadian flag was flying. Our circle complete, we headed for Cross Island and the anchorage behind Mink Island.

1620 anchored in the idyllic shelter of Cross and Mink Islands. Just to the north, the 26 massive red and white US Navy radio towers spread their long antenna wires for hundreds of feet to send signals to vessels around the world. A gentle breeze has finally come up and it's a perfect time to relax, read, and write the log before dinner.

An early dinner, pictures of eagles flying over Mink Island, and enjoying the sunset wrapped up the day. Steve even headed for his bunk at 7:30 - but with admonishments that after 8 hours of sleep, that being 3:30 in the morning - there would be no "Rise & Shine!" The rest of the crew read for a bit, but it was chilly, so we put in the companionway hatch boards and closed the ports. All were in their bunks by 2200.

Departing NE Harbor ...	Clifton fuel dock	NO WIND!	Looking back into NEH	Michael dodges pots ...
glassy sea.	Schoodic Pt. buoy	Petit Manan Reef	Petit Manan light ...	stunning ...
Can G 1.	Seaweed	Machias Seal Island	First look ...	Big current
closer ...	Light tower ...	bird blinds ...	with no sea ...	the complex ...
At Machias Seal I	rugged rocks ...	good for birds ...	not much else.	Puffins
Solar panels	mighty current ...	lots of gulls ...	auks?	Gulls
more current ...	rounding north end ...	low tide ...	with the currrent ...	mix of birds ...
great flock ...	more blinds ...	last view ...	Flags are ...	definitely Canadian!
Circled Machias Seal I	Where now boss?	Look what I see ...	US Navy Radio Towers	Approaching Cross I.
Approaching ...	Old Man I.	Cape Wash I.	Channel day mark ...	Mink I corner ...
At Cross - Mink	Cross I Tide	Mink I trees ...	beautiful spot ...	towers astern ...
Steve's happy.	nice cove ...	old CG station ...	up close ...	as the sun dips ...
behind Cross I. ...	last light ...	eagle soars ...	nice evening.

Go To Log Summary

Thursday, August 4th

Wind, that missing ingredient so far, made its appearance during the night. It rattled the rigging. It brought in fog early. By the time we had prepared another McHank set of breakfast sandwiches, the sun was out at our anchorage. As the crew went on deck to get ready for departure, Paul waved to a passing lobster boat and they came alongside. They were out of Bucks Harbor, across Machias Bay, and we asked if we could buy some lobsters. A deal was struck, and five lobsters from Sea Smoke were soon cooling their claws in our fridge.

Relishing the prospect of going sailing for the first time on the cruise, we hauled anchor at 0820 and motored through Cross Island Narrows into Machias Bay and set sail. Javelin was in her element in 12 knots of breeze and we tacked down the Bay toward open water. Fog blew up the bay and at times we had the radar on, and then it would clear for a few minutes. At Libby Island we tacked back west and were able to sail through the narrow Foster Channel into the waters around Roque Island. Roque is unique among Maine islands as it has not one, but two wide, long beaches. One on the south side in Roque Harbor, and one on the north side called Shorey Cove.

As we sailed up the east side, the true wind increased to 20 knots, and the apparent wind to 25 knots. The lee rail was in the water on the puffs, and we were glad we had stowed everything tightly down below. As we passed green can 5 at the northeast corner of Roque we double reefed the main. That kept us more upright and going faster as we crossed the top of Roque and did several short tacks around the northwest corner of the island.

We dropped sail at the channel into Jonesport, about the only real town between Schoodic Point and Canada. Unfortunately there is a fixed bridge across to Beals and then Great Wass Islands and we had to turn back and take the back channel down into one of our favorite anchorages, Mistake Harbor. Unusual for summer in Maine, there was only one boat there when we arrived, and it was leaving. We anchored at 1247. Though protected by low rocky islands, Mistake is exposed to southwest winds - just what were were having. Lunch included a consideration of our options, and with more wind and fog predicted for Friday, and a cold front by Saturday, the decision was to push on west.

The wind had eased off a bit during lunch and was back in the 12 -15 range, though still pretty much a headwind going west. We decided to motor directly upwind for the initial 5 miles of rocky shore and see how rough it was. Then we had the choice to ease off and set sail for Trafton Island, good in settled weather, but somewhat exposed as well. Another consideration is that Trafton, and almost any other anchorage before Schoodic Point, was well north of the straight line to Schoodic - Trafton being almost a 7 mile detour. When we reached Seahorse Rock, the decision point, we were doing nicely over 8 knots with the current pushing us, so we elected to continue on course west for Schoodic. The next options included rounding Schoodic Point and going up Frenchman Bay to Stave Harbor, about 8 miles, or Flanders Bay, another 7 beyond Stave. A third option was to try to get a mooring at Winter Harbor Yacht Club, just around Schoodic Point. The green line in the Mistake to Schoodic picture is our course, and you can see how far it is to detour to land.

We rounded the Schoodic Point buoy at 1715 and rolled out the jib as we turned up Frenchman Bay. We quickly overhauled and passed a small cruiser in the two and a half miles up to Mark Island, the decision point between Winter Harbor and Stave Island Harbor. We held steady on our course past the beautiful old lighthouse - no longer functioning - marked simply on the charts as a "tower." Jordan Island blocked the strong southerly wind as we gybed into Stave Harbor, making it easy to furl the jib. We anchored in the broad shallows on the north side of the harbor, free, for a change, from a thicket of lobster pots.

But lobsters in the pot was the main attraction for dinner. Paul dipped sea water into the pots which were quickly set to steaming, followed shortly by the lobsters. Rick added corn and biscuits to round out the entree round, then topped it off with crushed Oreos, blueberries and a dollop of whipped cream. We ate, and slept, well.

Thursday morning ...	lobster boat ...	getting lobsters ...	from Sea Smoke ...	back to work ...
in the fridge.	Low tide at Cross ...	and Mink ...	hauling anchor ...	fog coming in ...
Tide line ...	off Machias Bay.	Under sail at last!	close hauled	Fog at Starboard I.
Light on Libby I.	Lookout Paul for ...	Foster channel can.	Up to Roque ...	Steve is happy!!!
good sailing ...	wind building ...	25 knots apparent ...	time for double reef.	Rounding Roque I.
Too many pots.	Under power ...	heading for ...	Jonesport ...	docks ...
"Lobster car"	fishing dock ...	harbor.	docks ...	bridge ...
crazy ???	Back Channel to Mistake	Big fish pens	more pots ...	Green Island ...
Want a cabin?	One boat is ...	leaving Mistake Hbr	At Mistake	Beautiful spot ...
rocky shore ...	but exposed.	Leaving Mistake Harbor ...	Moose Peak Light	barrier rocks ...
Mistake to Schoodic	Schoodic Point ...	bell ...	close aboard ...	Little Moose Island
fellow cruiser ...	Old Mark Island ...	lighthouse looks ...	great.	Roaring Bull ledge
Into Pulpit Ledge ...	Pulpit Ledge	the ledge ...	just astern.	Osprey above
Crow Island	At Stave Habbor	Anchored ...	nice spot ...	pretty view ...
Lobster boat fleet.	The whole crew	Time for ...	melted butter ...	with lobsters ...
Rick's got one ...	Paul too ...	all in ...	ready to serve ...	all done.

Go To Log Summary

Friday, August 5th

Friday dawned clear, sunny, and with a southwest wind around 12 knots. By 0832 we were under power down Frenchman Bay waiting to set sail until the engine charged the batteries to "float," which took way too long. It was 1013 when we made sail just outside of Eastern Way. We tacked in through Eastern Way, above Sutton Island, and then out Western Way past can G 1. Steve was nervous as Rick plotted a course diagonally across Bass Harbor Bar as we were doing 8 knots with 15 knots of breeze, but, with 8 feet of fair tide, the lowest depth we showed was 21 feet.

Easing off ten degrees we sailed up the west side of Mt. Desert Island into Blue Hill Bay for a look at the Moose Island anchorage we considered back on Monday, the 1st of August. With the wind gusting to 20, we furled the jib so lunch could be started, but then the wind went light so we reached along at about 5 knots until our bean and meatball soup was consumed.

Out went the jib, back came the wind and we sailed up Blue Hill Bay on a glorious afternoon. Donning his floppy hat, Rick took the helm for the first time on the cruise. Glancing into the area behind Moose Island, there would have been some shelter, but it was fairly exposed. With gusts now reaching 20 knots, Javelin romped along at 8.8 knots for the seven miles to the north end of Long Island. The crew neatly tucked a double reef in the main as we rounded the island at 1420, then beat back down to Allen Cove.

We considered carrying on to Mackerel Cove on Swans I. or even back to the Cranberries at Northeast Harbor, but when Steve got the answer that it would take up to two hours to heat Paul's frozen lasagana, he made a sharp right turn and settled into Allen Cove. Anchor down at 1546, the oven was lit exactly at 1600. We ran the engine in neutral to cool down the freezer and fridge, and replenish some of the charge in the batteries.

At 1800 the lasagana came out of the oven. It, and salad, quickly disappeared. Reading, then early to bed at 8:30. A crescent moon hung in the mostly clear western sky. Bits of scud raced from south to north just above the tree tops. When, or if, would tomorrow's predicted rain, thunderstorms and northwest wind shift arrive? Things to sleep on.

Morning hauling.	Waiting for batteries to float.	Main halyard on power winch ...	sail stops off ...	Paul hoists.
Cranberry I. cottage	Classic gaff rig	Happy crew ...	steaming along ...	22 knots apparent.
Passing Bass Hbr light ...	a little tilted.	Lunch time ...	cook Rick ...	is happy.
Moose Island Blue Hill Bay	Adjusting leech line	Paul's relaxed.	Rick's turn ...	concentration.
Stave Hbr to Allen Cove 46 mile track	In Allen Cove	Crescent moon.

Go To Log Summary

Saturday, August 6th

The forward head flushed somewhere before 0540. Using "isolated pop-up thunderstorms" as an excuse, Steve had the crew up and sitting at the table eating their gruel at 0558. Meanwhile, a golden orb of sun had risen over the trees at 0540, the wind was a delightful 7 - 10 knots, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Brian had finished washing the oatmeal bowls, and Steve started the engine at 0625 so the anchor windlass would drain less energy from the battery. Despite mumblings about filing a crew's union grievance, the anchor was hauled and we departed Allen Cove at 0635.

Under power for Bass Harbor Bar Passage, we waited for the batteries to "float." And waited. At 0756 we crossed the bar. And waited. We powered through Southwest Harbor, past Greening Island, and abeam of Rebecca. Flying the New York Yacht Club burgee, she is owned by Charles Butt, 139' 2" long, 28' 7" beam, and draws 14' 7" of water. We gave up waiting and set sail up Somes Sound which Michael had not seen before.

It was an easy run the 4 miles up Somes Sound, one of the few fijord-like fingers in the northeast. The mountains on each side funnel the wind along the north-south axis, and the water is deep, up to 90' deep, right up to the shore. We turned and 8 tacks later were back to the entrance near Southwest Harbor.

The predicted heavy winds had not yet materialized as we sailed slowly past Baker Island and out Eastern Way. It seemed like a perfect time to set the spinnaker and sail up Frenchman Bay to Flanders Bay. Steve took over the foredeck and went through the usual routine of running the 8' spit out of its housing to hold the tack of the sail, attaching both spinnaker sheets, and finally putting the halyard on the head of the sail. With Paul pulling the halyard and Brian taking up the slack, the spinnaker, still in its sock, went up normally. That was about the end of normal. Trying to pull the blue line that raised the sock was difficult, and as it went up the sail inside was twisted. Several attempts to pull out the twists were unsuccessful. It was so tangled that we lowered the whole sail back on deck to try to untangle it. After half an hour of effort, the blue line was still locked in the very twisted sail. Also by now the wind had increased to 20 -25 knots - way too much for the spinnaker, so we stowed it in the forward locker to await calmer conditions.

Rick was making sandwiches as Javelin stormed along at 9 knots with just the main up. Just as we passed the end of Ironbound Island, a gust gybed the main. Once behind the island, the wind was blanketed and we shortly took the main down and motored the last three miles into Flanders Bay. By now the wind had gone back east of south and the sun was bright. On went the air conditioning. Billowy white cumulus lined the hilltops to the north and blew past to the east. Michael went for his "Maine swim" off the stern and reported that, indeed, it was Maine Cold!

We relaxed and read, worked the log and watched a second set of clouds march toward us. Again the bulk went north, but we heard one clap of thunder and saw one flash of lightning. The trailing edge dragged a long, black wind cloud and we dropped the riding sail and took in the ensign. A dark cool blast of about 15 knots blew through for less than five minutes. Then it cleared, the wind went back south and died to glassy smooth.

Steve and Paul set up the grill and cooked the pork chops to perfection. Rick added cauliflower mashed potatoes and applesauce to round out dinner and finish off the day.

Most everyone was in their bunks with lights out when we heard a series of "booms." First thought was thunder from one more round of clouds, but when it continued for about 10 minutes with the charistic crackle of small fireworks, we decided it was some big event about 2 miles away near the top of Mt. Desert Island.

0540 Saturday ...	around Allen Cove ...	all is quiet, except ...	anchor detail.	The crew observes ...
no wind.	East Bass buoy	light ...	Western Way Lobster boat	Southwest harbor ...
Lots of Hinckleys	Classic	Rebecca ...	139 feet long, 28 wide	Into Somes Sound ...
rocky shore ...	wooded hills ...	deep to the edge ...	wing and wing ...	end of the Sound.
Approaching Flanders Bar	Green 5 ...	setting up ...	anchor detail.	In Flanders Bay
Check-in time.	These clouds ...	gave us no rain.	Very peaceful ...	quiet water ...
Flanders frolic.	Michael decides ...	to test the waters ...	and dive in!	Yes, it's cold!
These clouds ...	brought us ...	wind line ...	looks strong ...	stow the riding sail ...
15 knots of wind (Ho Hum)	then no wind - grill time.	Allen Cove to Flanders Bay

Go To Log Summary

Sunday, August 7th

Despite gripes by the crew's union, breakfast was over and we were hauling anchor shortly after 7, and under way for Northeast Harbor at 0722. On the agenda were pumping the holding tanks at the city dock, getting into our slip and washing off 5 days of salt, filling the water tanks, connecting shore water for showers aboard (or going ashore), doing laundry, and making a shopping run to the Pine Tree Market. While all this is going on, Jess Gregory arrives, and Michael and Brian take his car and drop off Brian in York, Maine,(20 min from Rye,NH) then continue back to Scarsdale.

The Plan unfolded neatly and crisply. At 0944 we were at the NE Harbor pump out dock, and by 1045 Javelin was clean and connected. Paul headed up to take a shower and start his laundry, and Rick had connected to NEH WiFi and began uploading the 660 files needed to add 220 pictures to this log. After lunch Steve did laundry as Jess and Rick reprovisioned at the Pine Tree Market (prices even higher than usual.) Then Rick joined Steve at the Yachtsman's Center to do his laundry.

We were all relaxed about 1630 when Bob Johnstone stopped by to say hello. He came aboard and described the wonderful features of his new MJM 50 - the one that raced past us on Friday, July 29th. Top speed 40 knots; stabilized by a one half ton gyroscope spinning at 9,000 RPM that keeps the boat from rocking in waves, and can handle 6 foot seas at 25 knots. The gyro takes about 30 minutes to get up to speed, and two hours to stop when it's turned off. To put her capabilities in perspective, MJM passed us at 0859 and we arrived in Sandwich, about 27 miles, in 3 hours and 20 minutes. By then, MJM had already been tied up in Marblehead, (north of Boston) for an hour, about 85 miles from where he passed us! Bob invited us aboard MJM for a tour.

She is even more beautiful than she is capable. A boarding hatch opens to make getting into the aft cockpit easy. The bridge deck can be fully enclosed and then has both heating and air conditioning. The bridge windows can be opened electronically with a remote control. The main cabin and galley feature a TV and even clever pop-up fiddles on the electric stove to keep pots in place. One head, with separate shower, opens to the main cabin, the other, also with a separate shower, opens into the forward master suite with double bed and comfortable lounge chair. It was even tall enough for all 6'4" of Steve to stand up. And the classic rowing dinghy on the stern platform -- well you can step into it, push a remote control, and lower the whole platform into the water and row off. Reverse the process when you return - you never worry about getting your feet wet or have to step between a moving boat and dinghy. Bob's wife Mary loves it.

Another attraction was a replica of the schooner America the boat that won The Hundred Guinea Cup in england that became the "America's Cup." Complete with raked masts and gaff rig, she was taking tour groups out for a sail, and was a perfect complement to the fleet of large yachts at Northeast Harbor dock.

Satiated with boat images, Steve, Paul, Rick & Jess walked up to The Colonel restaurant for dinner. Once again, the reading lamp slowly faded to dark just after 2100.

Steve looks for ...	anchor directions.	Passing Long Porcupine I.	Aimed at Old Whale buoy	Reality hit the Meal Plan
Very close to rocks ...	tourist fishing boat.	Great day sail ...	tourist boats.	In all her glory ...
pride of place.	Bow on.	Remember MJM?	At NE Hbr ...	very sleek ...
Welcome aboard ...	bridge deck ...	electric opening windsields ...	down to 1/2 ton ...	gyroscope stablilizer ...
main cabin ...	galley ...	name plate ...	Dingly lowers into the water!	Coming back up.
Bow of ...	schooner America ...	replica ...	Fiberglass on molded wood.	Foremast ...
mainmast ...	helm ...	lazy jacks ...	Under way.

Go To Log Summary

Monday, August 8th

We treated new-aboard crew Jess to a McHank breakfast, then cleaned up, disconnected water and shore power and were off the dock at 0736. A stop at Clifton Dock added 34.6 gallon to the starboard fuel tank, and we were back under way at 0756 headed west for Bucks Harbor at the upper end of Eggemoggin Reach.

We set sail at the lower end of Eggemoggin Reach and sailed it all in one tack, passing under the center of the bridge at 1119. With Javelin's 75 foot mast plus antenna and a clearance of just 85 feet at high water, aiming for the center is important! We arrived at Bucks Harbor just before noon, picked up 15.3 gallons of diesel for the port tank and pumped the port holding tank - but the hose couldn't reach the starboard tank.

Lunch was on our mooring for the night as we waited for Bob & Mary Ann Miller - Mast Transit -, and Dan and Nancy Paduano - Top Hat - to arrive. Everyone was aboard Javelin for an afternoon sail at 1400. As predicted, the west-northwesterlies piped up and were blowing in the 18 - 22 knot range across upper Penobscot Bay. We stormed along on a reach making up to 9 knots with a double reefed main and jib. Great fun for all. On the return from our 15 mile sail, Steve was ready to roll up the jib in the lee of Hog Island, about 3 miles from shore. Rick convinced him to press on, and after another stretch of 25 knot apparent wind, found shelter just outside Weir Cove where we could easily douse sails and power back into Bucks Harbor.

The highlight of the day came next. We all boarded Top Hat and Dan gave us a great ride at 12.5 knots across to Weir Cove and his mooring there. Relaying the crew ashore in two dinghy runs, the eight of us climbed into the two cars Dan & Nancy had waiting, and drove to their house on Cape Rosier overlooking the Bay. It is a large post and beam barnwood structure made from 5 old barns, with a 30' great room ceiling and massive granite fireplace. The studio building is about half the size and features great open spaces and a granite shower big enough for half a dozen to enjoy.

Dan knows all of the lobstermen who moor in tiny Wier Cove, and had a dozen lobsters waiting for us. Nancy had big pots boiling and another for corn, and teaming up with Paul, they had a feat on the table in no time. All agreed it was a special evening. Dan & Nancy drove us back to the Bucks Harbor dock where Bob had left Mast Transit's dinghy and we were all ferried back to our boats by 2130.

Monday morning colors ...	1st tour boat crowd ...	America ...	at dock.	Passing Smuttynose I.
Hoisting main	Under sail	Eggemoggin Reach	Eggemoggin Reach ...	bridge ...
will we clear?	Approaching Bucks Harbor	Approaching Bucks Hbr	sister ships ...	look great ...
Fuel dock ...	ahead.	Backed in ...	inches to spare.	Here comes ...
Mast Transit ...	Hi Bob & Mary Ann ...	picking up a mooring.	Top Hat ...	we're coming alongside.
Beautiful sailing day.	Bob & Dan.	Boarding Top Hat ...	looking at Javelin	Dan's flying ...
12.5 knots ...	beautiful below ...	at Weir Cove.	Dan & Nancy's house ...	is Nancy's ...
design.	Granite fireplace ...	Orchard & water view	Great porch	Mt. Desert & bays ...
Penobscot Bay	1st class kitchen ...	Soapstone stove too	Master bedroom loft.	30' ceiling.
Nibbles ...	Ready for ...	lobsters ..	full dozen ...	1st ones out ...
rinsed and ...	ready to serve ...	come and get it ...	full plate ...	everyone's happy.

Go To Log Summary

Tuesday, August 9th

A beautiful morning, in part because we kept Steve up "so late" (about 9:45) that we had a leisurely breakfast and departed Bucks Harbor at 0823. We were hoping the light northwest wind would hold so we could run down Penobscot Bay and see if we had successfully straightened out the spinnaker. Alas, just flat calm as we motored down to Long Cove, arriving by 1120.

It was downright crowded! We counted 8 boats on moorings or anchor, including Hank & Rebecca Jonas aboard On Rush. Hank rowed over once we were on a mooring -- it took us two tries as the mooring ball chain snagged on the keel the first time. (Demotions for all hands.) After a short break for lunch, Hank & Rebecca came aboard for an afternoon sail.

Blasting across Penobscot Bay at 9 to 10 knots, we reached over to Rockland Harbor, rounded the superyacht Georgia anchored in the outer harbor, and dodged lobster pots back to Long Cove by 15:45. Hank & Rebecca headed back to their boat, planning to return at 1730 for Paul's lasagna dinner. Steve encouraged Rebecca to use the "sail step" to get into their dinghy. Though wary, Rebecca gave it a try. The last step down on the soft dinghy was a bit much and she gently fell the last few inches, regaining her composure, she hoped we had not caught that on camera. We had.

Following a delicious repast, they again headed back to their boat at sunset. This time using the stern deck for departure, Rebecca was all smiles. Moon in the rigging, sunset behind the trees, and a little reading wrapped up the day.

Mast Transit ...	Tuesday morning ...	feathered friends.	Drunkards Ledge and ...	Fiddler Ledge Vinalhaven
Approaching ...	Leadbetter Narrows.	Rocks to port ...	and starboard ...	into Long Cove ...
On Rush, with ...	Hank & Rebecca.	Beautiful cove ...	low tide.	wind turbines?!*%
Sail across to ...	Rockland Harbor Light	Georgia is ...	a really big boat!	Steve has Rebecca ...
try using ...	the "step" ...	not so good.	Hank & Rebecca	Dinner's over ...
time to leave ...	This time using the ...	stern to get into ...	the dinghy ...	MUCH better.
Rigging moon ...	good night.

Go To Log Summary

Wednesday, August 10th

"And the reason we are up at 0600 is ...," Rick's voice trailed off. "Because the sun is up," Steve quickly answered. But at least Steve has taken on Mel's old job of starting the water kettle to boil, and was captured in picture making coffee. Another McHank breakfast, this time adding onions to the ham/cheese/egg recipie. Though we dropped the mooring at 0733, we took an additional 6 minutes to circle On Rush and wake them up to wave good-by. (Aren't we nice!)

With only a 27 mile run to Hornbarn Cove in The Plan for the day and having flat water, and what little wind on the nose, we powered across the bottom of Penobscot Bay and continued past the Two Bush Island waypont and aimed for Old Man.

We had not been able to pump the starboard holding tank at Bucks Harbor. The first time because the hose wouldn't reach across the boat, and the next morning another boat was on the dock. So we revised The Plan and aimed for Boothbay Harbor where we could top off the diesel tank and pump the holding tanks.

With wind now blowing about 12, Steve wanted to sail. So we rounded Old Man and set sail, heading again for Hornbarn Cove which was now north of us and downwind. However, clouds had increased and rain appeared to the west on Jess's cell phone. Easing off into Muscongus Bay, we reached northwest to Wreck Island, did a "Javelin Gybe" (actually tacking the boat through 270 degrees), and threaded back between a 5 and 10 foot spot to Jenks Ledge, Javelin Gybed once more and dropped sails near Gay Island.

Not long after we had set sail, the first of the "liquid sunshine" arrived. Light at first, rain increased until we got a heavy shower as we worked through the narrow passage between Crotch Island and the Pleasant Point Peninsula. Reversing the treatment we had gotten back at Cross Island, a lobster boat gave us a rather unfriendly hail as we tried to stay off the rocks and dodge lobster pots at the same time. At 1259 we dropped the anchor in 14 feet of water, and Steve, Paul & Jess came below, removed their wet gear and dried off for lunch.

Our library was well stocked, including two great books that Paul had brought along: "Brilliant Beacons" about America's lighthouses, and "Coastal Maine," the maritime history of the waters we are sailing. The patter of rain on the cabintop, with just a little wind on occasion, made for a quiet afternoon. Porkchops for dinner, more reading, and even Rick was in his bunk by 9:30.

0615 Coffee Master	Morning light shows ...	the many anchored ...	boats in Long Cove ...	she's under way ...
but On Rush ...	peacefully sleeps on, ...	until ...	we wake them up.	Schooner ...
Heritage ...	just waking up.	Waves from ...	big ferry.	Some sailing wind ...
yes, nice breeze ...	but light rain.	Approaching Hornbarn ...	dodging lobster boats ...	and RAIN ...
In Hornbarn Cove ...	our anchorage ...	shore houses.	Paul's books make ...	for good reading.

Go To Log Summary

Thursday, August 11th

Zero. Again the crew was awake shortly after 0600 and there was zero visibility. Taking our time, the fog started to lift as we hauled anchor and departed Hornbarn Cove at 0813. It came and went in patches as we worked our way southwest toward open water, the fog lingering longer over open water than near the wooded islands. Our usual radar watch, with Steve at the helm, Jess watching the cockpit radar repeater, Paul on lookout, and Rick cross checking the main radar, the ship's GPS/chartplotter and the ship's laptop as we passed each waypoint.

By turning on the 3/4 mile "range circles" around the icon of the boat on the ship's laptop, we can see what features on the chart are within the circles, and they should be showing up on the 3/4 mile range circles on the radar. If there are returns on the radar that are not on the chart, they are likely to be other boats, to which we pay special attention. Just such a blip showed up as we passed Franklin Island at 0907. We altered course and, on the radar screen, passed within 1/8 of a mile (about 700 feet) and never saw it visually. Sixteen minutes later, the fog lifted enough to see Pemaquid Point, five miles away. We put the radar on stand by.

Continuing on past Pemaquid, our route carried us on toward Boothbay Harbor for a little diesel and holding tank pump out. Something about pumping holding tanks is not in our karma this trip. We arrived at the Carousel fuel dock in Boothbay at 1058, got 18.7 gallons of diesel, and were told to call the "pumpout boat" on channel 9 and it would come to us. Steve called on the hand-held radio. Rick called on the ship's radio. The dock man called on his radio. No answer. The dock man then pointed out a manual pumpout station on a mooring in the harbor. It was half Javelin's length, so we tied the midships spring line to one end and the stern line to the other, with the whole bow sticking out beyond the float. Paul and Rick got the hose across to the aft deckplate, and Jess was on the float pumping away on the long handle. Of course the hose wasn't long enough to reach the forwad holding tank, so we back the boat up so it was tied with the spring and bow line. Finally, mission accomplished.

As we motored out of the harbor, we called Rick's wife Sandy and sang her a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday. Yes, for most all of the 15 years of Javelin Maine cruises, Rick has had to celebrate her birthday before, after, or both, at some considerable deficit to the "good husband" account.

While Boothbay harbor was sparkling clear and warm, the radar went back on as we powered past The Cuckolds and aimed for Seguin Island. We all would have preferred to sail, but the wind was only 8-9 knots, dead on the bow, and we rolled a bit in the southerly swell.

Once inside Harpswell Sound there was a little wind. We debated setting sail, but decided that tacking back and forth every five minutes was not required on the crew exercise program, so we motored slowly past the house the Leighton & Karin McIlvaine used to own and dropped the hook off the beach to the south. Grilled chicken dinner and early to bed as usual.

Thursday fog.	getting better ...	good here ..	but lingers here.	Muscongus Bay Lighthouse
Thrumcap Island	Ram Island light	Entering Boothbay Hbr	Seguin Island ...	lighthouse.
Nice ride.	Entering ...	Harpswell Sound.	ex-McIlvain house.	Returning schooner ...
enjoying the ride.

Go To Log Summary

Friday, August 12th

The forecast was WRONG! Instead of fog and rain we had calm and sunshine. With a trivial 7 miles to go to get to Dolphin Marina in Potts Harbor for the day, we "slept in" and all hands were up just before 0700. Eggs for breakfast.

We had learned late yesterday afternoon that a friend of Karin McIlvaine's had died this week and she would only be joining us for cocktail hour and dinner, rather than a day of sailing. Steve also was able to contact Rick & Sherry Tonge and they will be joining us for cocktails and dinner.

One chore was to disassemble the aft head sink drain line and check valve to clean it out. Jess and Rick did the deed and it runs fine now.

We squeezed in 29 miles of sailing in nice weather, and were tied to the dock at 1337 as the clouds and rain started to move in. It blew gusts to 40 with heavy rain. One unlucky daysailer with two men aboard was caught out in it just off the dock. They managed to luff through the worst of it and finally picked up a lobster pot to use as an anchor until it blew through.

Karin McIlvaine and Rick & Sherry Tonge all arrived at 1700 and we had shrimp cocktail aboard before eating dinner at the Dolphin Marina.

Friday sail ...	nice wind ...	Half Way Rock ...	bright sun, but ...	avoid ...
Drunkers Ledge	Adm. Byrd's House Eagle Island	These rain clouds ...	passed north.	These did not ...
nasty stuff ...	is rough ...	here comes rain ...	and wind ...	these guys ...
got caught out, but ...	got a mooring.	heavy rain.	Blowing hard.	Time to ...
relax, and ...	kick back and ...	enjoy the view.	After dinner ...	Javelin in background.

Go To Log Summary

Saturday, August 13th

Cast off at 0643 and powered to Wentworth with gray skies, wind light, and rolling seas on the beam. The track was the same as the route: 52.3 miles. Arrived Wentworth 1300.

A power boat two slips over had caught a 615 lb tuna which was weighed on a big crane and sold to a commercial market.

Brian came to Javelin at 1330, and he and Rick headed off on a shopping trip and doing laundry at Brian's house. Returning with Lise at 1800, we had a short cocktail hour and headed for the Carriage House restaurant in Rye Beach, NH for dinner. We took our wet gear with us as the radar image showed the thunderstorms to the west-northwest we had been watching all day were likely to finally arrive.

The Carriage House is a favorite of Lise's and we could see why. Even our waitress added to the fun with her wit and she had her own oyster farm just up the river near where Brian had kept his boat. After a delicious dinner, a light mist was falling when we left the restaurant. Lightning flashed around us as we drove back to the boat, and, with a little good luck, the hatches were secured and all below when the heavy rains pelted the deck. The crew drifted off to sleep, dreaming of an early departure for the Cape Cod Canal on Sunday.

Whaleback light at Portsmouth Harbor

615 lb tuna!

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Sunday, August 14th

Both heads flushed early. Captain Steve, perhaps taking slight heed to the dinner comments about a captain "Blicher", allowed the crew to even drink OJ and eat a small bowl of gruel before casting off at 0534. Radar on; wisps of fog; light wind; sunrise under way.

With a "heat advisory" on shore for temperatures in the 90s and high humidity, and scattered thunderstorms in the afternoon forecast, we set up for warp speed. That's pushing the throttle up for boat speed in the 9 knot range, even though diesel consumption doubles to almost 4 gallons per hour. When the wind crept up to 10 knots, we added the jib to try to squeeze out a little more speed. On our 80 mile run to Sandwich at the entrance to the Cape Cod Canal, all that could get us in an hour earlier.

We arrived at the Cape Ann waypoint buoy at 0821, with the wind piping up to the 14 knots range. Unfortunately, our next leg, 53 miles to the Cape Cod Canal at 192 degrees, put the wind too far forward to carry the jib. In the breeze, Jess and Rick played "Yo Heave Ho" with the furling line on deck as Paul tailed the excess through the clutch and Steve kept some tension on the jib sheet.

Two light towers, about 165 feet high, stand on Thacher Island at the tip of Cape Ann. Through Paul's wonderful book "Brilliant Beacons" by Eric Jay Dolan, we learn a little of their history. Their story started exactly 381 years ago, on August 14th, 1635. The small pinnace Watch and Wait had been sent by Marblehead residents to Ipswich, MA to pick up Antony Thacher, minister Joseph Avery and their families to become the minister of Marblehead. Departing Ipswich on August 11th and making stops along the way, on the 14th they were overcome by a hurricane-force gale and wrecked on a rock just off Thacher Island. Thacher and his wife were the only 2 of 23 aboard who survived, having been washed up on the island and not found for five days by a passing ship. The colony gave the island to the Thachers, and thus it was originally named "Thacher's Woe."

136 years later the ship London wrecked on the same rock, giving the reef its current name, the Londoner. On April 26, 1771 the Massachusetts legislature passed a bill to create a lighthouse that was eventually built on Thacher Island - purchased for the large sum of 500 pounds. Originally two 45 foot towers were built 900 feet apart to distinguish this site from Boston Harbor and were first lit on December 21, 1771. This was the tenth, and final lighthouse built under British rule. (They were rebuilt to present height in 1861, but that's getting ahead of our story.)

Play the fife, beat the drum and roll forward four years to July 3rd, 1775. Just short of three months after the battles at Lexington and Concord, when "Capt. Sam Rogers, a doctor from Gloucester, led a hardy band of local militia to Thacher Island, where they smashed the lighthouse lamps and the glass in the lantern room, also collecting all the whale oil. The lighthouse, however, was hardly their only target. The patriotic citizens of Cape Ann suspected Capt. James Kirkwood, the lighthouse keeper, of being a Tory, and that was reason enough to get rid of him. After finishing with the lighthouse, Rogers and his men grabbed Kirkwood and his family and deposited them unceremoniously on the mainland, where according to British military report, there were left "to shift for themselves." Their suspicions were correct, for soon thereafter the Kirkwoods fled to Canada, becoming part of the exodus of sixty thousand Tories who left America during the war to settle somewhere else in the British Empire, refugees whom historian Maya Jasanoff has labeled "Liberty's Exiles." The purpose of extinguishing the light was to prevent the British from using it for safe navigation.

Winslow Lewis, to be significantly involved in another chapter of Thacher Island Lights, was just 5 years old at the time, living in Wellfleet on Cape Cod. When President Thomas Jefferson signed the Embargo of 1807 against British trading, Lewis' family shipping business was mostly put out of work. Long story very short, he developed a "magnifying and reflecting lantern" using Argand-style lamps with a metal reflector behind it. Though similar arrangements, including the Argand lamp itself, were common in Europe, Lewis got a patent on his design on June 8, 1810. His "lantern" was tested at Boston Lighthouse in 1810, and deemed much brighter and using less oil than previous wicked lights. To further test the new design, one of the twin lights at Thacher was fitted out, and again deemed good. On March 2, 1812 congress passed legislation instructing that all American lighthouses be equipped with the device. There were 49 lighthouses at the time.

It's 1051, two and a half hours and 22 and a half miles since we rounded the Cape Ann waypoint. The wind went from 16 knots to 3 and the sea from white horses to oily undulations. One evening during cocktail hour, Jess asked me for the "high point" of the Brilliant Beacons book. The story of Thacher Island's lights is a stepping stone to a broader tale of 32 years of Stephen Pleasonton's reign as Lighthouse Superintendent.

Pleasonton was State Department clerk who had whisked the country's founding papers to safety in 1814 on the day before Washington was burned during the War Of 1812. When James Monroe stepped up from Secretary of State to President in 1817, he appointed Pleasonton fifth auditor in the State Department - essentially an auditor position to review and control spending. Lighthouse oversight was added in 1820. Pleasonton knew almost nothing about lighthouses, science or the sea, yet his position involved designing Congressionally approved lighthouses, passing them to Customs Collectors in the designated location, then selecting the low bids, which included the way lights were lit, and since the Lewis Lantern was the designated standard, that was what was included. Pleasonton became professional and personal friends with Winslow Lewis, the American "expert" at the time. By the mid 1830s, roughly 150 new lighthouses had been built - eighty by Lewis.

Just three years after Pleasonton was given lighthouse supervision, Augustin-Jean Fresnel (pronounced freh-NEL) demonstrated a Fresnel lens at France's premier Cordoun Lighthouse in 1823 and it was many times better than the American Lewis system. Though Fresnel died in 1827 at 39, his brother carried on the design and it eventually became the world standard.

But, despite numerous successful demonstrations of Fresnel superiority in America, and at least 3 government commission reports recommending the switch to Fresnel, it would take another 25 years before the switch was made. The self interests of Pleasonton (not wanting to spend money for a better system) and Lewis (selling more of his lanterns) were well served by their proximity to Washington DC, Congress and the social circles of the time. The cries for better lights from mariners were hardly heard. Finally, the stinging Lighthouse Board review was delivered to congress on January 30, 1852. Pleasonton claimed, in a letter to President Millard Fillmore, "The great object of this attack was to introduce the French lenses into our light houses, which do not suit this country and for that reason I opposed and still oppose the employment of them." "Senator Davis of Massachusetts, the same man who had urged the United States to import its first Fresnel lens back in 1838, was now having second thoughts, fearing that the lenses were too expensive, and that if they were adopted nationwide, America would be far too dependent on the French for its lights, which might be problematic in the event of conflict between the two countries. Davis also maintained that it was suspicious that the board's report found not a single thing to praise about a system that had been in place for more than thirty years. As a result he believed that the report was 'an unfair, unjust, and exaggerated statement of facts.' " "As George Blunt described it, 'In 1852, the bill for creating the Light-house Board was pending in congress, but being opposed by parties interested in keeping up our bad system, its passage was doubtful.' " Only when a group of Congressmen traveling by boat from DC to New York were delayed because of bad navigation aids did they return and pass the bill on August 31, 1852. Pleasonton was out of a job, and lighthouse keepers everywhere rejoiced.

Back to the cruise, the wind started to build again, and by the time we were just 10 miles north of the Canal entrance, we set sail at 1334. Though it was only about 14 knots at the time, we put in a double reef in the main. Glad we did as the wind steadily increased and Rick had fun driving Javelin to weather. With an "Extreme Heat Advisory" now posted for the west end of the Canal, and just a "Heat Advisory" for temperatures in the 90s with high humidity at the east end, we elected to sail back and forth an additional 4 miles as the wind topped out over 25 knots true, 30 apparent, and Rick cheered as we raced along at 10 knots.

Following the Captain's orders that the lockers need to be cleaned out by cruise end, we indulged in one more round of Steve's favorite spaghetti and meatballs. Thank goodness for air conditioning aboard. After our early start, it was another early to bunks evening.

0534 Departure ...	before sunrise ...	beautiful morning.	Cape Ann buoy ...	these are on ...
Thacher Island.	We saw a ...	Military convoy.	Steve watches.	Doing 10 knots.
At Sandwich ...	quiet evening ...	nice moon.

Go To Log Summary

Monday, August 15th

Continuing the clean-it-out mandate, we had a McHank meatball & cheese English muffin for breakfast. That finished off Steve's concern about using up all 140 Costco meatballs. Under way at a casual 0718, we had the current against us through the Canal and the railroad bridge came down in front of us. The slow garbage train rumbled across and there was still no rush to raise the bridge. By 0821 we had cleared the bridge and rolled out the jib to add 3/4 of a knot.

Our pattern of increasing morning wind, up to about 1000, continued and we enjoyed both motor-sailing and all sailing during the morning. The rest of the pattern also continued, with the wind dying away to about 5 knots by mid-day, so it was back to motoring.

By mid-afternoon the wind was up again and we set sail just past Pt. Judith, with 15 miles to go to get to Watch Hill and Fishers Island, our intended anchorage for the night. Jess took his turn for an afternoon of beating to weather in 12 -14 knots of wind and it was a delight. Living up to the adage that a sailboat race is defined as "two boats in sight of each other," Steve spotted another boat beating west about a mile or more ahead of us. The chase was on. We were able to point higher and when the other boat tacked out from the shore, Steve thought we had gained but wouldn't catch them on this tack. After all, it was clear they had a large genny and the boat looked big and white. As we closed, them on starboard and us on port, Rick thought we might be pretty close to them, and indeed, they crossed us a couple of hundred feet ahead. We also chided Steve a bit for picking on a helpless Tayana 37, comfortable yes, but also very heavy, slow, and couldn't point very high. The next time we both tacked, they were well over a mile behind us.

It was now about 1630 and Watch Hill still 4 miles dead up wind. Rick & Steve discussed the choice of East Harbor or West Harbor on Fishers Island for our anchorage. Since we had not been in East Harbor before, that was our first choice. Rick reviewed the chart and assessed that it was well protected from winds west, to south, to east, but open to a northwest or northeast wind. So Rick checked NOAA weather. Winds becoming southerly and then southeast, increasing to 10-15 knots on Tuesday. So far so good.

However, it continued that these would be showers and thunderstorms "some with potentially heavy winds." this was a new addition to any forecast we had heard. Jess and Paul whipped out their cell phones and punched up their weather apps. Indeed, Jess showed cloud and lightning images from 0800 through noon, and Paul found "heavy lightning" in the afternoon for Westbrook. The look on Steve's face said it all: a forecast of lightning means run for cover.

And so Plan B went into effect. Sails down; engine on; set course for home at Westbrook. On went the sail cover and the covers for the dorades. (Dorades are the funnel-shaped vents that channel air, but not water, into the cabin.) We passed Watch Hill at 1700 and had the flood tide with us, making up to 10 knots over the bottom. Our good fortune continued on through Fishers I. Sound and into Long Island Sound, at one point touching 11 knots over the bottom. With a colorful sunset welcoming us home, we entered Westbrook at 1957. By the time we were tied up in the slip, power connected, instruments off and covered, and wheel cover on, the 3/4 moon hung in the rigging.

It was hot and muggy, so we turned on the air conditioning. Refreshing cool air filled the main cabin, Steve, cabin forward, and Paul's aft, but no air in Rick's cabin. Though it was now dark, Steve crawled into the aft starboard lazarette to check out the duct to the cabin. It appeared in order, so Rick crawled into the port lazarette and found that the entire duct had been knocked off the blower. A screwdriver, duct tape and some contortions later, it was re-attached and Paul confirmed that air was flowing. Thus it was 2115 by the time we sat down to a dinner of pan-seared chicken breasts, with garlic Alfredo sauce and capers, plus a side of mixed vegetables.

Another successful, fun and safe Javelin cruise was dutifully recorded in the log book.

Sagamore bridge.	Train is ...	s - l - o - w.	Going up.	Arriving Westbrook 1950 hours
All secure in moonlight.

Go To Log Summary

Tuesday, August 16th

Epilog: We slept in - to 0700. Breakfast finished off the Cheerios and milk and orange juice. The weather? Mostly blue skies with a few clouds. Wind? Light from the southeast. Freezer and fridge cleaned out; duffels packed; bunk bedding stripped; boat washed down; we drove out of Westbrook at 0900. Arriving Scarsdale at 1100, some clouds but nothing showing up on cell phone radar yet.

Elly arrived to pick up Paul; Jess drove off in his car; and Rick had his boarding pass for the flight back to San Francisco, all before noon. Still no rain. Enough said.

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Clear Sailing.

Rick Van Mell vanmells@ix.netcom.com

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