Jan. 14, 1911.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
49 
fireworks and then sat late on deck, enjoying 
the peace of an especially beautiful evening. It 
is in such quick contrasts that one of the pleas¬ 
ures of cruising is to be found. 
From this point our cruise had the charm of 
familiarity, or renewed acquaintance with places 
already known rather than the excitement of 
novelty. The log of a cruise in waters so well 
known would be tedious. To summarize brief!}', 
we spent a few days in the Sound, sailed to 
Boston to pick up our very youthful grand¬ 
daughter with her attendant father and mother, 
loitered for a month or more on the Maine 
coast, chiefly in Penobscot Bay and about Mount 
Desert, spent a week of unfavorable weather 
running offshore to look for swordfish—saw one 
and got none—and then turned south again, 
dropping grandmothers and mothers and babies 
and sons and sons-in-law at various points as 
the demands of home duties were felt. I finally 
anchored in Morris Cove, a sole survivor, at 
way up stop at Rockland and buy ten yards of 
mosquito netting, double width.) 
Do not fail to go up the river to Bucksport. 
This is one of the prettiest little towns on the 
whole coast, with fine trees and old houses in 
well-kept yards and shaded streets and a water¬ 
front like a Whistler etching. But let no per¬ 
suasions—no, not of twelve wives and twenty- 
four daughters, induce you to go up the river 
to Bangor. Twice I have yielded and twice the 
ebb tide has left me aground. There are un¬ 
charted shoals in that river, shoals composed 
of sawdust and water-logged slabs, and to go 
aground on such ledges is a peculiar ignominy. 
Therefore, let Bucksport be your limit. It would 
have answered just as well as Bangor for my 
alliterative title. I must admit that there is a 
very beautiful cove a little above Bucksport, be¬ 
low Wintersport, with a fine view up into the 
mountains. But here again I came within an 
ace of getting aground. 
Buck’s Harbor is known, I suppose, to all 
Maine cruisers. It is beautiful in itself, and the 
view from the anchorage out toward Pumpkin 
Island Light is especially well composed. We 
lay over a Sunday here and talked to the' 
heights above the village to get the fine outlook 
over the bay. 
Coming down to the southward, Muscongus 
Bay has a number of good anchorages, espe¬ 
cially Friendship, which is the skipper’s home, 
and which we look upon as our own home port 
in Maine, *1 he harbor is fine, the view from 
the hill is very pretty, excellent supplies and 
water can be had on the wharf and it was here 
that our engine was finally and successfully 
tinkeied. The passage out toward the eastward 
behind Morse’s Island is particularly beautiful, 
though it requires a little care for a stranger. 
There are also some charming spots in the 
Georges River, especially Turkey Cove. 
The passage through Davis Strait among the 
PORTLAND HARBOR. 
A STRANGER FROM THE LAKES. 
6 p. m., Tuesday, Sept. 13, completing a cruise 
of a little more than 1,600 miles. 
Oh the Maine coast above Portland we were 
in search of the comfortable and the picturesque; 
that is, of harbors where we could lie in quiet 
and could find new beauties of scenery, and 
yachtsmen who cruise in that region may be 
interested in a few notes. In Casco Bay, if you 
go into Pott’s Harbor, the northern side is a 
much prettier anchorage than the southern side 
near the steamboat landing. Harpswell, opposite 
Orr’s Island, is, I suppose, known to everybody, 
as it deserves to be, but Cundy's Harbor is quite 
as pretty in a different way. Anchor in the cove 
on the southern side, just round the point. At 
Pemaquid do not go into New Harbor, but up 
John s Bay, around John’s Island, past the steam¬ 
boat wharf; then turn to the northward into the 
little basin, and if you did not know the place 
before, be grateful for this information. 
In Penobscot Bay go by all means into Gilkie’s 
Harbor, the upper end near the light, not the 
lower harbor near the millionaires. Choose for 
this a night when the wind shall drop to a dead 
calm and when there shall be a full moon. 
Then, as you hear the cry of herons and the 
barking of seals, you will be learning in its per¬ 
fection the charm of this region. (But on your 
At Castine the anchorage above the wharves, 
where the local boats lie, is out of the tide, and 
the shore is infinitely prettier than the summer 
cottages below. 
Up the Bagaduce River, about two miles above 
Castine, there is a very nice anchorage in a 
curve of the hills. We thought Pretty March 
Harbor, in Blue Hill Bay, a fine specimen of the 
Maine cove, and we were greatly interested in 
the process of bailing herring out of the fish 
weirs that line one side of the harbor. (The 
local pronunciation of this, as if ware, is not a 
corruption, but a perfectly correct survival of 
the early pronunciation, as the spelling wear 
shows.) Blue Hill itself is also pretty in a 
more sociable way, and the anchorage proved 
better than I had expected from the chart, but 
the entrance is a little difficult. Perhaps my 
nerves were not quite steady, for an hour be¬ 
fore we came to Blue Hill I had barely escaped 
running on a sunken rock. The skipper’s keen 
eye and the vessel’s quickness were all that 
saved us. That kind of thing gives me a dis¬ 
taste for the look of rocks under water, and I 
thought it the part of prudence to have the 
skipper at the bowsprit end, both as we went 
in and again when we were beating out the next 
morning. 
Georges Islands is very frequently used by 
cruisers along shore. When next you go that 
way turn out to the southward and spend a 
night in the little harbor between Allen’s Island 
and Benner’s, anchoring among the lobster boats 
and perhaps carrying a line out to shore, since 
the cove is narrow. The anchorage would per¬ 
haps be a little uneasy in a northeaster, but the 
place is so perfect an example of a small fish¬ 
ing community and so untouched by external 
influences that it well repays the slight risk. 
To conclude this guide book to the picturesque 
with a spot nearer home, I fancy that not many 
cruisers use the little cove at the head of West 
Harbor in Fisher’s Island. It is both pretty and 
comfortable, giving a better shelter, even from 
a northeaster than the chart would lead one to 
expect, and it has been to me a welcome relief 
from the monotony of going into New London. 
Go inside of the Dumpling and follow the buoys 
around as far as the lead gives you water 
enough. Boats of four feet draft can anchor 
inside the little island. The passage on the 
southern side is the better one. If you lie over 
here, the view from the high point of Fisher’s 
Island is superb, not surpassed in the Penobscot. 
On a cruise there is one subject of observa¬ 
tion and remark of which we never tire. We 
