414 
FOREST^' AND STREAM. 
[May 23, 1903. 
she holds her way well in a choppy sea and I had no 
difficulty in getting into smooth water and reaching my 
mooring, but I had evidence that it was a fresh breeze 
when we met a good-sized cutter under two jibs and 
trysail— making, by the way, a pretty and an unusual 
picture. 
On this cruise I had my only experience this summer 
of sailing in a fog. It was in going from Green's Landing 
to Blue Hill Bay. We worked to the eastward as far as 
I-ong Ledge Beacon before it shut in thick. From there 
¥. gave me a compass course E.N.E. to the buoys at the 
narrow entrance to the Bay. I held this course for 
nearly an hour, then made land (which looked very near 
and very high) on the starboard bow. Suspecting that 
the tide had set us to windward I kept alongshore, look- 
ing sharply for rocks, until we made a black can buoy. 
I saw this for an instant only under the sail and very 
absurdly took it to be a schooner at a distance with her 
jibs down; F., partly correcting my exaggeration, 
tliought it was a fishing boat. But it was the buoy we 
wanted and from this point all was easy. I do not usually 
like fog, but this experience was rather exhilarating. 
In returning through the same channel the next day 
1 had a chance to test the plans which I try to have 
ready in case anyone should fall overboard. It was only 
F.'s hat; had it been the owner of the hat I should have 
been less cool, but so far as the test went I found myself 
equal to it. We were close hauled on the starboard 
tack. I came about, stood back a little, gybed over, ran 
down with all sheets slacked off to stop the boat's way 
and picked up the hat to my satisfaction. But it is sur- 
prising to see how far a boat gets away from an object 
dropped overboard and to discover how easily one loses 
sight of an object in the water while he is bringing the 
boat back to the spot where it was lost. I suppose the 
only safe course is to use the tender. 
North Haven, in Fox Island Thoroughfare, is a favorite 
anchorage of mine. We lay there our first night out, one 
of the most beautiful star-lit nights I have ever seen, 
and again on our last night. This time there was a strong 
norlliwest wind and every boat in the place seemed to 
be in use, some of them double-reefed and carrying ladies 
and children, others with crews of boys and heeling over 
under whole sail. It was a most animated picture. 
While we were watching it, a fisherman came in, luffed 
up and let got his anchor. But his peak halliard jammed 
and he was in some danger of dragging down on a neat 
yacht astern of him. Then the animation of the scene 
increased rapidly. Loud profanity from the man in 
charge of the j^acht, excited gesticulation from the femi- 
nine owner ashore, dignified silence on the part of the 
fisherman; no damage to the neat yacht. 
The anchorages that I used on this trip need no de- 
scription; in fact, one can make a lee almost anywhere in 
the Muscle Ridges or in either Thoroughfare. One who 
is going over the course for the first time should try to 
g^. the advantage of fair tides through the Muscle 
Kidges; in the other narrow channels it is not so impor- 
tant. "Obstructions are well marked," as the Coast Pilot 
says, but the very number of buoys and spindles is .^o 
great as to be confusing. I should not care to go through 
without checking off the buoys on the chart. 
n,— A Leisurely Cruise. 
s 
After three days ashore I started with' a new passenger 
to spend a few days among the islands in CascO Bay. 
Saturday, Aug. 16. — Under way at nine and sailed to 
the westward inside of Ram Island, past Boothbay and 
inside of Sequin with an easy northwest breeze. Off 
Small Point it fell light and I worked up toward Small 
Point Harbor, intending to go into a cove at the head 
of the bay. Some fishing boats, however, moored behind 
an- island showed me that I need seek no further and 
I ran into the little harbor called Carrying Place Cove, 
deep, fairly well sheltered and extremely pretty. The 
bottom is, 1 think, rocky, but we lay in comfort and sat 
late on deck enjoying the beauty of the evening. Dis- 
tance, 20 miles. 
Aug. 17. — In accordance with the plan of the cruise 
we made a very leisurely start at nine, wind northwest, 
cold and strong. We ran along the outside of the fringe 
of islands, following in a general way the indentations 
of the sliore until about r.30, when we went inside be- 
tween Junk of Pork and Green Island — two expressive 
names. Then followed an hour of delightful sailing be- 
tween Jewell and Crotch Islands, with bright sun and 
keen little puffs of wind that made a single reef com- 
fortable. About three, after a stretch of more open water 
and some flying spray, we turned into Pott's Harbor and 
anchored on the northern side in Basin Cove. Here we 
instantly began to experience all that has been said or 
sung of the pleasures of harbor after storm. Not that 
we had had a storm, but the wind had been fresh and 
cold and there had been enough water aboard to make 
us ready for escape from it; inside, under the sheUer of 
a hill, we lay in absolutely unruffled calm and the sun 
shone down with comforting warmth. On either side 
were shores wooded to the water's edge and at the head 
of the cove was a farmhouse surrounded by pastures, 
with an old tide-mill, now disused, on one side. In this 
peaceful scene we spent an afternoon of Sunday calm. 
M. sketched, while I smoked and dozed in the warm sun 
and .turned alternately to the quiet cove and to the outer 
bay, where others, less wise, it seemed, than we^ were 
seeking the pleasures of activity under two reefs and 
clad in oilers. The only drawback to this almost perfect 
anchorage is the strong tide which runs from the basin 
above the old tide-mill. There is good water up the 
middle of the cove as far as the turn. Distance, 19 miles. 
Aug. 19.— Under way at nine, wind light northwest.. 
W"ith a fair wind we had no difficulty in going out by 
the southern passage, where there are seven buoys within 
one mile. Sailed quietly over to the Cuckolds and tacked 
up into Boothbay Harbor, by way of getting a contrast to 
our previous anchorages. Here all was bustle and mo- 
tion and noise, not altogether agreeable noise. A band 
was parading ashore and the launches and fishing boats 
of Boothbay are equipped with a peculiarly offensive 
kind of motor. But in this harbor there is always much 
that is interesting; this time I kept my eyes upon a fine 
large cutter, whose graceful sheer proclaimed her a Fife 
boat, even before I saw her long English tiller. Dis- 
tance, 25^ miles. 
Aug. 19. — A short and easy run to our nlooring at 
Peniaquid in time for lunch ashore. Distance, 7^ miles. 
Total for the cruise, 72 miles. 
This kind of unhurried cruising, making an easy start 
and turning into harbor in the middle of the afternoon, 
does not .carry one far, to be sure, but the making of long 
runs is not the object of cruising. It is only the very 
inexperienced who suppose that sailing is a lazy occupa- 
tion; the quick and constant motion of a small boat, the 
work of cooking and cleaning, the occasional heavy 
straining at cable or halliards — altogether these make a 
good day's work. In addition to them six hours' sailing 
is enough. Perhaps such easy cruising may not satisfy 
the energy of youth, but I commend the plan to the 
middle-aged. 
HI. — A Small Boy's Cruise. 
For the sake of completeness I will mention here my 
cruise with II., who had at the early age of five his 
initiation into a sport which I should like to think that 
he may pursue for fifty years to come. I expect him to 
begin paying me back about twenty years from now with 
cruises in a yacht of larger size, bought, I trust, with 
his ov/n money, on which I shall be an honored passen- 
ger, doing no work and offering advice with paternal 
freedom and with the positiveness of age and experience. 
We sailed to Boothbay in rain and a light breeze, 
spent the night in peace broken only by its rolling off 
the bank, laid in supplies for the next cruise, rowed about 
the harbor and got home for lunch, a well-pleased pair. 
I was gratified afterward to hear him describing to his 
mother the operation of "pumping up" the anchor of a 
schooner; his technical terms were not quite correct, but 
his observations had been precise and detailed. Dis- 
tance, 15 miles. 
IV.-A Drift. 
i7 Moi.Kc, 
My wife and I had spent some time over the charts, 
planning a six days' cruise which should take us into 
the upper Penobscot Bay, to Castine, down Eggemoggin 
Reach and home through the Thoroughfares. In ordi- 
nary weather this could have been done without pressure, 
but we struck a week of extraordinary light winds. The 
first day we had a reasonable breeze, but after that there 
was only one stretch of about two hours when we ^yere 
really sailing; the rest was a drift in the lightest of light 
airs. And from the morning of Friday to Sunday noon 
it was a dead beat with sheets not once started. 
In such a cruise there was nothing of interest on the 
sailorizing side and I will compress the log into a few 
sentences. 
Tuesday, Aug. 26. — Pemaquid to Owl's Head Harbor, 
with moderate southwest breeze. Distance, 271^ miles. 
Aug. 27. — To Camden at r.30. Turned in to escape 
the unendurable heat. Distance, 7>4 miles. 
Aug. 28.— To Buck's Harbor (Cape Rosier) across the 
bar between Job and Lime Islands. Distance, 17 miles. 
Aug. 29. — To North Haven, down East Penobscot Bay. 
bar between Job and Lime Islands. Distance, 17 miles. 
Aug. 30. — To Burnt Island in the Muscle Ridges. 
Spent four hours at anchor to avoid drifting down the 
bay. Distance, 13^2 miles. 
Aug. 31.— To Pemaquid at 8.30 P. M. The afternoon 
almost a dead calm. Distance, 21 miles. Total, 103^^ 
miles. 
But if the weather was calm, so were we, and if the 
sun was hot (and it was), we kept our tempers cool. 
It was a disapointment to give up Castine and Eggemog- 
gin Reach, but it had its compensations. The last day 
was especially trying to the soul ; we rolled about all 
the afternoon in a heavy swell, taking eight hours to 
make seven miles, within plain sight of home, watching 
the fog sweeping over the land and expecting it to reach 
out to us at any moment. There was no breeze on the 
water and we seemed to progress only by the jerk-jerk 
of the main-boom as the boat rolled. Yet we kept a 
philosophic mind. Once I am lold that I gave way. As 
we came down the East Bay, making for North Haven 
where we expected mail from our deserted family, the 
nice breeze which we had had for two hours left us just 
before I could round the buoy into Fox Island Thor- 
oughfare. This was hard and my composure was further 
shaken by a big schooner yacht which walked past us 
with her upper canvas full. Instead of standing over to 
the shore for a breeze I kept making impatient short 
tacks at the buoy. Of course I missed it and it is re- 
ported that I did not bear my failures with a perfect 
equanimity. If I did break down here — and I find noth- 
ing about it in the log — it was the only time. When we 
got up early for a good start, as we did every morning, 
and had no breeze till nine, we rowed about the harbor : 
when the heat became unbearable, I put up an umbrella 
for the first and only time in all my sailing or I made the 
ends of the staysail sheets fast to the tiller and used 
them as tiller-ropes, steering from a shady spot forward 
of the mainsail. 
And all the time which was subtracted from the pleas- 
ures of sailing we gave to the other pleasure of watching 
the shores and fixing upon our memory the beautiful 
scenery of the upper bay. Thus in exchange for some 
lost experience in managing my boat I have a most dis- 
tinct picture of Owl's Head Light, a vivid mental photo- 
graph of the West Bay full of vessels and yachts be- 
calmed — all hazy, like a Japanese sea-picture — ^and at the 
very time when I was losing my temper at the entrance to 
Fox Island Thoroughfare I now find that I was the 
gainer by a dark-toned evening memory of the harbor I 
was so impatient to enter. It was, in particular, a piece 
of good fortune that we were obliged to give up Egge- 
moggin Reach and go down the East Bay past Eagle 
Island. When we left Buck's Harbor there was just 
breeze enough to give us steerage-way close-hauled and 
keep us comfortably cool, and the whole scene, as we 
worked past Pumpkin Island Light, was wonderfully 
beautiful. The water-surface, after two days of calm, 
was absolutely level, not rippled by the breeze but marked 
with a tracery of fine lines, and from this level surface 
the shores and islands were reflected with a dark effect, 
a sort of steel-gray, like the reflection in a Claude Lor- 
raine glass. The islands were of varying shapes and 
colors, some sloping and green with grass, others abrupt 
and crowned with spruces, and the rocks about the water- 
level were of a deep reddish brown. The distant scenery 
was not less beautiful ; the Camden Hills were in the 
west, Mt. Desert in the east, Cape Rosier and the Blue 
Hill behind and Isle au Haut ahead. We met no yachts 
and but few vessels on this sail and I fancy that the 
middle passage between Deer Island and North Haven is 
less known than the West Bay and the Reach. However 
beautiful the latter may be, I do not see how it can be 
equal to the East Bay, and Owl's Head, the most pic- 
turesque single spot on the West Bay, seemed to me to be 
surpassed by Eagle Island Light with the precipitous and 
richly colored island of Hardhead lying opposite to it. 
Of things of human interest, al-so, there was no lack/ 
Off Pumpkin Island, at the head of the Reach, two large 
schooner yachts met. One, the smaller and newer, dipped 
her ensign, the other acknowledged the salute by firing 
a gun and the first responded by another gun. I am — or 
try to be — a cruiser and boat-sailor, not a yachtsman, 
and I have at times smiled at the anxious care which 
yachtsmen bestow upon their various flags, but there 
was something so gracefully courteous in the droop of 
the ensign across the white mainsail, something so 
dignified in the slow passing of the two vessels, that I 
forgot to scoff and suffered an instantaneous' con- 
version. 
A moment later a small catboat, sailed by two nice- 
looking boys crossed my bow and to my astonishment I 
saw the name Morris in big black letters across her stern. 
Now my name is a respectable one, handed down from 
a descent Welsh ancestry and I sometimes^ in an etymo- 
logical mood, trace it back through the Mofris dance (in 
which my forefathers doubtless figured with conspicuous 
grace) to the Latin Maurus. This is all very nice, but 
I had not expected, even in these days of amazing yacht 
names, to see it painted on a boat. "Hallo," I said, "what 
have you got my name on your boat, for ?" The boy who 
was steering dodged this impertinence by a counter- 
question, "What is the name of your boat, then?" "Lap- 
wing." "Where's she from?" "New Haven." "Did you 
sail her up here?" "Yes." "What, around the Cape?" 
sai4 he, and I never saw a more lively incredulity on a 
boy's face. "Yes," I answered, and I could not refrain 
from straining his imagination still further by adding, 
"and I am going to start back next week." The two 
boys looked at each other a moment and each read the 
other's skepticism in his look; "Oh, go on," said number 
two, and they turned their back upon the gray-bearded 
jester. I hope they read Forest and Stream. 
Another boat-load of boys, somewhat older boys who 
might have been college students, I met in the Muscle 
Ridges late one afternoon. They had their tender across 
the cockpit, the tide with them, the wind aft, no lookout 
(or so at least I thought) and a generally happy-go-lucky 
air. After crowding me almost into a buoy they saw me 
and one of them shouted, "How do we go to get to Rock- 
land?" "Go around Ash Island, there, by the beacon," 
I answered and pointed as well as I could. When I saw 
them last they were headed for the bar on the wrong 
side of Ash Island, where there is about two feet of 
water. No chart, no knowledge of the place, no lookout ! 
But they had the cheerful confidence of youth which car- 
ries one far and, contrary to all propriety, usually carries 
one safely. 
I tried three new anchorages on this trip. Owl's Head 
Harbor was the best of them; it has good bottom and 
water enough, especially on the eastern side, and it has 
the great advantage of being within an eighth of a- mile 
of the regular course into the West Bay. It is a much 
better small boat harbor than Rockland and better than 
one would expect from the chart. Buck's Harbor is also 
good, but it is disfigured by a quarry and the bottom, at 
least where I anchored, is rocky. The anchorage behind 
Burnt Island, just off the Muscle Ridge Channel, I look 
because it was too late to look for anything better. I 
don't think I could. judge it fairly, for I ran back to it 
and a retreat is depressing; so was the dark hole itself, 
so were the mosquitoes which swarmed down on us, 
so were the deserted quarries. Besides, I partly slipped 
from the bow and wet one leg to the knee. But on the 
most impartial judgment it is not a good harbor, thongh 
it would give shelter from an easterly and is very neav 
the course. 
