Day 19: Bermuda to Maine – 01/08/12

All change again – no Groundhog Days sailing in this part of the world!  It’s another night of crash, bang, wallop, lurch, totter and fall – and that’s while I’m still trying to sleep!  Actually, the fall is a bit of an exaggeration but you get the picture.

I’m very nervous when I get up for my watch.  We are only about 50 miles away from Portland at this point and there is bound to be lots more coastal activity around.  I sort of hope that Mike will do the “it’s the last push so I’ll do it” sort of thing, but he’s too tired and doesn’t.

Still an hour after he goes to bed I get to heave him out of it again because suddenly on the horizon are 6 huge, brightly lit things.  Now by things, I mean I haven’t the faintest bloody idea what they are.  If they are ships, they are in some sort of armada formation – unlikely.  They are not warning beacons because none of them flash and they are really, really HUGE – and of course, not marked on the charts.

Mike and I change course to avoid the first of them.  They look familiar to me – I have seen them before – Australia maybe?  Something to do with oil.  I don’t know.  Still, we eventually pass them and Mike is allowed to go back to bed.

Our little friend on the bow has disappeared in the night, having had a nice rest and hopefully, not a huge great poop.

During the night, the wind has a hissy fit.  It goes from a light but useful 14 knots coming from the south east to a decidedly unhelpful 26 to 27 knots right on the nose.  We have no sails out and are managing 2 to 3 knots.  At best.

I do the usual dance with the fishing boats but thankfully there are no large ships about on my watch.  Then I discover Fishing Pot Alley!

It is just getting light and I go outside for a good look around now that I can see a bit in front of me – just in time to spot a fishing marker of some type literally 20 feet of the starboard bow.  I can’t see another one anywhere around so hoping that it’s a pot marker, I swerve the boat out of the way just in time.  Phew.  I’m just getting over the shock and I spot another one, then another one, then … and it just goes on.  For the last hour of my watch I must pass about 90 of the bloody things, some visible, waving little flags at me, and some lying on their sides, flags missing and only visible when you are right alongside.

By the time Mike gets up to find me outside (unusual in itself) in wet weather jacket, 3/4 length pyjama trousers, flip flops and hat (not my usual clothing combination but it’s cold, damp and it’s the best I can do) I am standing there at the helm, cursing and waving my hands around.  Doesn’t everyone talk to fishing tackle?

Photo:  Mike wrapped up against the morning chill and damp

As the sun tries to get through the layer of cloud and light fog, Mike, bored with the ridiculous speed we are achieving, pushes the revs up higher and then the wind helps by dropping to 4 then 3 knots and we begin to make some progress.

Maine makes its appearance.  Actually, it’s been there for a while, we just couldn’t see it.  We can smell pine trees and fish and see many, many lighthouses and beautiful coastal houses.  All around us we can hear fog horns and the chime of the bells in channel markers.  It’s just how I imagined it , only colder

Photos:  Our first views of Maine

We get to Portland and put the anchor down at Fish Point.  I am surprised that we have not been approached by a boat load of Homeland Security/Border Patrol people but we are peacefully ignored.  We can’t get any internet so Mike has to use his ridiculously expensive to call UK mobile to call them and we are told to bring the boat alongside the security dock and the Customs and Immigration people will come and find us.  We can’t find said security dock, so we find another less suitable one and I take a flying leap off the boat to tie the boat on then find I can’t get back on the boat.  I am standing there when the port security people arrive, having spotted the boat coming in, and they help me to get back on.  How embarrassing.  I am still in my pyjamas!

Homeland Security arrive, all three of them, check us in, check us over and take my soft cheese for disposal.  At least they are not bothered by my frozen goods (which, having been bought in Bermuda, are US goods anyway).  We are now legal but have to go to their offices to get our cruising permit, a 10 minute taxi ride away.  Now I’m not being awkward, but you’d think they would have the ability to provide these at point of contact?  Still, they are the friendliest US Border Protection people I have met but I suppose it’s nicer working out and about with boats than doing the same job in an airport terminal faced with a plane-load of irritable tourists.

The sun is now high in the sky and the early morning fog and cloud has completely dispersed.  I get dressed and we move Jeannius to fuel up then leaving the boat at the fuel dock, wait for a taxi to take us to the office, anticipating a nice visit to the Maine Mall which is apparently ‘right close, almost next door’.  We need a US SIM card if we can get one and I might just need some new clothes!

We wait 30 minutes for the taxi that was ‘on it’s way’ when we rang and drive for about 20 minutes through South Portland.  It is so pretty – most of the houses have the clapboard exteriors and porches – just how I imagined it all.  Wonderful.  The taxi driver is also how they are portrayed and by the time we have heard all his political opinions I start to zone out.  Sensing my boredom, he regales us with stories of the police shooting a thief with a gun in a taxi and blowing the guys brains out all over the driver.  Welcome to America!

He waits for us outside while inside the same guy we saw earlier processes our cruising permit.  We sit there trying desperately not to laugh (we have spotted the cameras) while 3 of them try to figure out how to put the paper in the printer but they are as sweet as this morning, telling us where to go and what to see.

Back at the boat we pay for some internet access and use it to do what we need to before moving the boat back to our original position and finding we lose the internet we have just paid for.  Bugger!

Although desperate for lobster, I am even more desperate for an early night as I didn’t have my usual morning catch up.  We switch on the air conditioning and find, unsurprisingly, that it goes into heat mode (Mike is ecstatic about this) which will at least help dry the boat out and heat the cabins, which, sitting in bloody cold water are cold and clammy.  I cook shrimp for dinner and we are in bed by 8.30 and probably asleep by 9 pm.  Tomorrow we head to Boothbay Harbor to meet up with some friends from the World ARC who live there, Judith and Joe.

 

Position:  43 deg 16 min N, 70 deg 08 mins W

Distance so far:  1595 miles