Jonesport to Rockport, and the islands in between

I've got about a week before heading north to Maine.  Twenty hours on the road.  That's a lot of driving for me but well worth it.

Maine.  Cool, dry air.  Long days.  Crisp nights.  There is something about the light, it is just different up there.  Above is dawn in Maine,  just off Eggemoggin Reach.  

This is last year's track, twenty days of sailing.  This year I've got thirty days to explore.  The sailing area will be from Rockport to the west and Jonesport to the east (see the map at the top).  I just heard yesterday that the coast from the Schoodic Peninsula east to Jonesport is known as the Bold Coast.   Rocky shorelines, cliffs separated by rivers, not many towns, lots of islands.  Sounds interesting.  

This is Pumpkin Island at the northwest end of Eggemoggin Reach.  I look forward to passing by there again.

And I've become intrigued by Roque Island, which is just a bit east of Jonesport.  Jonesport itself is worth visiting, a small town with a public dock and two blocks away is a variety store/gas station/deli.  Sounds like a good place to resupply.  And if I make it there, Roque Island is just around the corner.

Look at the anchorages and beaches at Roque Island.  Why does it make me think of Treasure Island and young Jim Hawkins?  How could I not go there?

As always, the sail is at the mercy of the weather.  We'll see where the winds carry SPARTINA.

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Some good news arrived by email yesterday.  SPARTINA received her invitation to take part in the SULTANA Downrigging Festival in early November.  Maine in August, Chesapeake Bay in October, Downrigging Festival in November.  Life is good!

a last sail on the river

A last sail on the Elizabeth River, at least for a while.  Our oldest daughter, the Ironwoman (I've lost count of the marathons, ultra-marathons and triathlons she has completed), joined me yesterday morning for a sail in light north winds.  A very comfortable day, particularly for mid-July, we enjoyed tacking back and forth across the river.  

After I dropped her off at the dock, I motored up the southern branch of the Elizabeth to the ramp, hauled SPARTINA and broke down her rig.  It was time to bring her home for pre-maintenance.  I hope to be on the road to Maine in a little over a week.

And then there's the packing, which always begins with a bit of a mess.  Hopefully some sort of organization will take over in the next few days.

 

NEWYD MARINE

Lorenzo, one of my good friends that I have met only over the internet, has come up with a great concept.  Under the name of NEWYD MARINE he is designing and selling CNC kits for John Welsford Boats.  And of course he is starting out with John's finest design (in my opinion), the Pathfinder.

When I mention Lorenzo, you might recognize his name from the beautiful John Welsford Pathfinder ASTRID, one of the best Pathfinders ever built.  

Or you might remember him from MIRIVAR Sailing Raid, a multiple-day group sail he organizes every year on the Mediterranean coast.  (Click here for a video by Enrico, another good friend,  about the raid.)

Or you could recall his name from his taking ASTRID on a tour of Europe, doing some wonderful sailing in Belgium, Denmark and Norway.

Lorenzo is a skilled boat builder and sailor, and now he is sharing his skills and experience with other like-minded people.  

Lorenzo's concept is for a one-stop shopping for building Welsford designs.  From his base on the coast of the Mediterranean, he offers plans, CNC kits crafted on site, plus assisted boat building with those kits.  

(I gotta ask Lorenzo, where were you 17 years ago when I could have used all this help??)

According to NEWYD's website, kits are available now for Pathfinders and Scamps.  More Welsford designs will be available this fall, including the well-known Navigator.  And then even more designs in 2025.  No doubt John Welsford is pleased to have a representative like Lorenzo in Europe.

An interesting innovation that Lorenzo's kids include is the use of tongue and groove cuts to align all the pieces, taking a lot of the guesswork and measuring out of assembling all of the pieces.  This makes a lot of sense to me.

As I said at the top, I have never met Lorenzo in person, yet I still consider him a great friend.   We have exchanged emails for years about Pathfinders, cruising and simply the joy of being on the water.  Lorenzo has kindly extended several invitations over the years to come and visit him on the coast of France.  I look forward to the day when we can make that work.

In the meantime, Lorenzo, I want to send my congratulations on this great new venture!  You have my best wishes for well-deserved success!

 

day twenty three - back to the ramp

Awake at 5:30 after an unusually rolly night.  Surprise that the chop off the Pamlico River could work its way up the creek and around the corner.  Sleeping gear tucked away, boom tent down, under power at 6:15.

Back down the East Fork then round the point, docked at 6:40.  

Hauled out by 7:00.  It's been a good trip.  

 1.24 NM for the day

day twenty two - windless, fish on!

A windless morning.  I had seen the forecast the night before, so I sleep in.  Same forecast again for the following day.  I lay in the sleeping bag and think about the trip.  Oriental (twice), New Bern, Beaufort, Cape Lookout and Ocracoke.  North Creek, where I put in, is just miles to the west.  Maybe it is time to head home.

Motoring at idle speed 7:30.  There is fog on the marshes to the north.

8:30 more fog on the channel to Swan Quarter.  I had seen a ferry pass through earlier, so nothing to worry about there.   I turn southwest, figure I'll skirt the string of marshy islands that separate Pamlico Sound from Rose Bay.

8:30 some wind, making 2.7 south of Swan Quarter Island.  8:50 wind disappears, motoring at idle speed.  9:30 a little wind, 1.7.  10:45 I round up and drop the main and jib just south of a little unnamed, at least on my charts, island south of Judith Narrows.  Figure I might as well cast a lure.

With the south wind I drift back to the island.  Looking at Navionics on my phone I see that my drift would be parallel to the northeast side of the islet.  I move around the corner, start the drift, casting right up along shore.  The first pass no hits but I do notice a little gut, or opening, into the marsh about halfway along the island.  I motor up and begin a second drift along the shore, casting towards that little gut.  Three or four casts and fish on!  

The fish dives by a puppy drum and puts up a nice little fight,  but as I reel it in I see that it is a thick speckled trout.  How nice.

11:15 sailing west.  Still unsure of where I am headed.  I think about the Pungo River and Belhaven.  Or Washington.  I've given up on making Albemarle Sound on this trip.

Better wind at noon and it seems like the wind is carrying me back to North Creek.  So I guess it is time to head home.

More afternoon wind.  1:00 making 3.2 across the mouth of the Pungo River.  1:20 making 3.7 to 4.3 with a following swell.  2:05 off of Wade Point, wind swinging to the southeast and sailing wing and wing.  3:00 making 4.3 approaching Chambers Point.  3:10 in North Creek.  Anchor down 3:50 on the East Fork of the creek.

I get out the carving board and fillet knife.  I get a couple of nice fillets and a nice strip of belly off the trout, cook it up in the pan with some garlic butter rice.  

While dinner is sizzling away I suddenly recall a beer bought somewhere along the way is still down with the food supplies.  A minute or two of digging around and there it is.  Yeah, warm beer, but no complaints are heard.

 23.35 NM

day twenty one - back across the Sound

Wide awake at 5:30 with the help of the Ocracoke alarm clock - the ferry just yards away cranking up her diesel engines.  No snooze alarm on that one.

6:30 cast off, under power out of Silver Lake.  Wind out of the northeast, raise the mizzen and continue motoring into the wind up the narrow channel to Pamlico Sound.  The light is eerie with a low dark fog over the island, a patch of blue sky and the sun fighting to pierce somber clouds.  

7:00 look back to see a ferry leaving Silver Lake.  We are still in the channel but I suspect we'll be out of the channel and the ferry gets close to us.  7:15 leave the channel with the ferry close behind.  Fall off to starboard to give her plenty of room, round up and raise single-reefed main and jib.  

Out on Pamlico Sound making 3.1 to the northwest.  7:50 making gps shows 3.0 to 5.0 depending on the gusts.  Low clouds but not as thick as earlier.

8:45 a hint of the western shore appears on the horizon, then disappears.  Making 4.5.  9:00 Bluff Point in sight, gps shows it is 7.45 NM away.  

9:50 shake out the reef, 3.7 towards Bluff Point.  10:15 overcast giving way to blue skies.  10:30 making 3.0 with wind on the starboard beam.  Warming up, strip off foul weather bibs and boots and two sweaters.   11:30 less wind, motorsailing.  11:55 no wind, under power with sails slatting from side to side.  12:15 see low, marshy Great Island off the port bow, entering the Great Island Narrows.  12:25 a hint of wind.  

12:50 a southeast wind fills in.  Sailing!  Making 2.0 under the bluest of skies.  1:10 through the Narrows.  1:35 jibe towards Caffee Bay.

1:45 sail on to Caffee Bay.  We turn up into a tiny cove and drop anchor.  Ibises tiptoe through the bright green marsh.  Terns dive on the calm water.  A gentle breeze.  Blue skies.  White clouds.  Where else in the world would I want to be?

I have had excellent luck fishing this cove before.  I cast for nearly an hour, no luck at all.  I think I jinxed myself by getting out the boca grip, a plier-like tool for grabbing hooked fish by the lip.  My expectations are too high.

Drop back out of the cove, anchor down 2:50 Caffee Bay on a beautiful afternoon.

 

24.84 NM

days eighteen through twenty - a nice place to be trapped

I check the weather forecast and realize I have a decision to make.  Good sailing weather today,  then high winds, rain and small craft warnings the two following days.  I want to spend at least one day enjoying the island.  I either sail off the island today, forgoing the day on Ocracoke.  Or get trapped there for three days.  Ocracoke is a nice place to be trapped.  I decide to wait out the weather.  

The name Howard is everywhere on Ocracoke, most likely dating back to Blackbeard's quartermaster William Howard.  There is Howard Street, Howard's Reef and Howard's Pub.  And of course there is Philip Howard, who runs The Village Craftsman shop just off of Silver Lake.  

I see Howard late one evening as I hear a live band and I'm walking in that direction to see what's up.  There's Philip standing on the grass just off the road.  He looks at me with curious glint in his eye.  "Are you local?" he asks.  "You look like an islander and I thought I knew everyone on the island, but I don't know you."  I tell him I am not an islander, but we have met.  It was a decade ago when I first sailed into Ocracoke.  In fact, I remind him, he wrote a post about my boat on his online journal.  He thinks for a moment, then says "A wooden boat?"  Yes, that's it.  He smiles.  

Philip tells me the music is coming from an island birthday party.  Lots of food and drink.  "Just go in there, tell them you are looking for my daughter, enjoy the party and they'll never know!"  I tell him I will take a pass on party crashing, but it is good to see him.

I have been visiting Ocracoke for about 35 years, sometimes for work, sometimes with family.  The Pilgrim, the girls and I spent a week every summer for 14 years on the island, and loved every minute of it.  And as for work, there was visiting the island after the storms.  I was there a few days after Sandy, Alex, Matthew and, the most recent and most devastating, Dorian.  People living on coastal islands are nothing if not resilient.  In the worst of times they have always welcomed me, sometimes into their destroyed businesses, sometimes into their flooded homes.  They assess the damage, make a plan, move forward.  

Visiting the island after Dorian, I was waiting on the docks for a ferry and met a woman named Kelley Shinn.  She and a reporter and I visited while waiting for a relief ferry.  She talked about her house being flooded, losing her vehicles, losing just about everything in the floodwaters from the hurricane.   She lost everything but her spirit.  She smiled as she talked, the devastation didn't faze her.  Kelley had seen tough times before, as evidenced by her two prosthetic legs.  And she keeps moving forward.

I knew Kelley had written a book so I message her, hoping to say hello and maybe get her to autograph a book.  She replies that she is off the island, headed to a literary festival to do a reading.  She tells I can use the outdoor shower at her house, laundry, whatever is needed.  I thank her for her offer of hospitality, tell her I will be fine.  I do find an already autographed copy of her book at Books To Be Red.

My three days on the island turn into long walks, lots of reading, a visit to the island's store for resupplies, lunches and dinners at Dajio, SmacNally's and Ocracoke Oyster Company.  A Blue Moon with a water view from SmacNally's is always a treat.  

As are fried shrimp on a Caesar salad at Dajio.

My dock is right next to the ferry docks, a little noisy at times with overnight maintenance.

Captain Rob of the Schooner Windfall, a friend of many years, helps out by letting me charge my battery packs on his boat.

The second night, lots of rain.  I sleep fine under the boom tent. Wind, wind and more wind on the second and third days.

And more walks back through the old part of the village tucked in the live oaks.

My storm radar app confirms that staying put is a good idea.  I would have been trapped somewhere for a couple days, might as well be a favorite island.

One that has dessert just around the corner on Silver Lake.  

Another morning walk to the light house.

A lunch of a softshell sandwich at Dajio.

And time to repack my lunch kits.

 And then one last dinner of grilled oysters and a salad at Dajio.  Yeah, being trapped isn't so bad.