Port Jefferson, NY to Tenants Harbor, Maine

The next morning, July 7th, we left Port Jefferson, NY soon after sunrise, our course set for Morris Cove, just inside the harbor at New Haven, Connecticut. We had quite a sporty sail across Long Island Sound in a brisk southeast breeze, and were anchored in the cove by mid-afternoon under a bright and warm sun. We stayed aboard for the night, enjoying a quiet afternoon and evening. Early the next morning, a father and his young son stopped by on their paddleboards.

*Morris Cove, New Haven Harbor, Connecticut*

“Did you really sail all the way here from Georgia?” the father asked.

“Actually, no. We started in Florida, at Fernandina Beach,” I replied.

“Wow. That’s so cool,” he said.

With that, they were on their way. Being asked this question was to become a routine experience for us.

*Falkner Island Lighthouse, Falkner Island, Long Island Sound*

We weighed anchor a half hour later and motored out of the cove. Once in the Sound, we set the mainsail and jib and laid in our course for the town of Old Saybrook, Connecticut. The day was bright and sunny, and the breeze fair. We scooted along at five knots, passing lonely Falkner Island with its lighthouse and lightkeeper’s cottage. At three in the afternoon, we entered Old Saybrook Harbor and turned into the sheltered basin of North Cove. We hailed the North Cove Yacht Club dockmaster and made arrangements to secure to one of their guest moorings. The moorings were free to use for up to three days, but did not include any use of services. However, for $35 per night, we could use the yacht club launch and the club bathrooms and shower. There were no laundry facilities, but there was a laundromat in the town.

*Old Saybrook Harbor Light, Old Saybrook, Connecticut*

*JO BETH on her mooring in North Cove, Old Saybrook, Connecticut*

When most people think of a ‘yacht club,’ the image of super wealthy, super stuffy old guys in navy blazers and khaki trousers, ascots around the neck, wearing deck shoes and sipping a martini come to mind. Certainly there are clubs fitting that description to the letter; however, the majority of yacht clubs around the world are informal groups of people that like to sail and mess around with boats. Often, the facilities are spartan. Most of them host sailing and boating programs for kids, as well as sail racing teams.

*Town Dock and North Cove Yacht Club, Old Saybrook, Connecticut*

The North Cove Yacht Club was one of these, friendly and very welcoming. They shared beer from their keg cooler with us, ran us back and forth in their launch, and made sure we knew our way about town. The single shower was built into a small tool shed on the side of the clubhouse building. We spent four nights there, and really enjoyed it. Old Saybrook has been one of our favorite stops so far this summer.

The town of Old Saybrook is a charming place, and easy to get around in on foot. There are coffee shops, wine shops, great restaurants and a neat little butcher shop and market, all just a few minutes’ walk from North Cove. Another thing I was looking forward was having a lobster roll and beer at The Monkey Farm. I had been to Old Saybrook many times during my work as a marine surveyor and knew The Monkey Farm from my travels there. Much has changed in the town since I was last there. I remembered the Monkey Farm as basically being a biker bar, but it has expanded and been dressed up a bit. The lobster roll was still delicious!

On a sunny Monday morning, we slipped the mooring pennant at The North Cove Yacht Club and set our course for Mystic, Connecticut. We had booked a slip at the Mystic Seaport Museum, a place we visited some 30 years ago and absolutely loved. Lisa had also visited as a student with SEA (the Sea Education Association) while in college and spent the night aboard the tall ship Joseph Conrad. We were willing to pay the exorbitant rates (around twice the going rate for dockage in New England) for the once in a lifetime experience of visiting via our own vessel. And we were very much looking forward to spending a couple of days there, plugged into shore power and taking time among the museum exhibits and boat building and repair shops. We also needed to defrost the refrigerator/freezer cold plate.

Mystic was a short sail from Old Saybrook. The Mystic River winds through the harbor, narrow and long. As we entered the river channel we were surprised to see two boats and crews we knew heading out. The yacht NOVA we knew from Brunswick Landing Marina in Brunswick, GA, and the yacht GRACE and her crew we had met in Oriental, NC and again at Ocracoke Island and Manteo in North Carolina.

Once further into the harbor, we were at the Mystic Railway Bridge and contacted the bridge tender to request an opening. Our call went unanswered, so I tried again. Then again. After several minutes, a gruff voice came on and said, “ten minutes boats, ten minutes.” We sat and waited, and in just about ten minutes, two Amtrak trains rumbled over the bridge. A few moments later, the bridge was open.

We powered through and quickly found ourselves at the Mystic Highway Bridge, a drawbridge with a strict opening schedule. We had nearly forty-five minutes to wait before the bridge would open, so we made lazy circles in the basin just before the bridge. The marina dockmaster’s office at the Seaport Museum Marina had told us to contact them for our slip assignment when at the bridge, so we did. The dockmaster gave us our slip information and said the dockhands would give boats assistance getting docked in the order they came through the draw bridge. We continued our circles.

A few minutes later, three large trawler yachts approached from our stern, led by the largest, a 55’ Grand Banks trawler. JACK DANIEL’S, the apparent leader of the group, called the drawbridge and demanded an opening. The bridge tender politely informed him the bridge only opened on the half hour, and the next opening would be at 1:30. JACK DANIEL’S acknowledged, and then she and her charges literally shoved us out of their way as they all took up station right at the bridge. The area around the drawbridge is quite narrow, and lined with marinas and boats. We had to turn away and move back towards the railway bridge to avoid being in a collision with one or more of the trawlers. Within a few minutes, another smaller trawler and sailboat joined the wait. In short order, the late arriving smaller trawler was pushed back with us. The captain glanced over to us and shook his head, thumbing towards JACK DANIEL’S and his charges.

The half hour came and went, and finally, ten minutes later, the drawbridge opened. Of course, JACK DANIEL’S and his little fleet barged through, all bound for the Seaport Museum and determined to be served first. We hung back, and after talking to the somewhat confused dockhands via the VHF radio, we waited our turn. When our turn came, we found our slip assignment to be in some of the oldest working docks, adjacent to the boatbuilding and restorations area.

This could have been quite appealing, as Lisa and I love old wooden boats, but the docks were constructed for vessels much larger than JO BETH. It took three dockhands several minutes to wrestle us into the slip and get us secured. The power plugs were too far away for our cord to reach, so the marina provided us with an extension. Lisa and I were not happy, as we had been under the impression the slip we had reserved was in the relatively new, floating dock portion of the Seaport Marina. Lisa was determined to talk to someone in the dockmaster’s office, and talk she did. We had no idea of it at the time, but it turns out the person she happened upon and began venting to was the Senior Operations Manager of the entire Seaport facility. His name was Chris, and while he wasn’t able to move us to a better slip, he above and beyond as best he could to accommodate our needs. He drove me to the local West Marine for me to pick up a replacement portable VHF radio, as well as point out restaurants, laundry facilities, etc. He even gave us access to the laundry facility used only by the Seaport staff.

In spite of Chris’s efforts, which we very much appreciated, we found the Seaport Museum to be a huge disappointment. The working areas of the museum, where old wooden sailing ships are restored and maintained was still very interesting, as were many of the nautical exhibits. Sadly though, the remainder of the facility had taken on much more of a ‘theme park’ feel in the years since our last visit. Worst of all, the Museum Bookstore had shrunk to a wisp of its former self. I made no photographs or videos the entire time we were there.

We left Mystic two days later, a bit down, but happy to be moving again. We made the very short trip to Stonington, Connecticut, around seven miles, and anchored in the large harbor. We spent a lovely and quiet evening there, and the next morning, were underway for Dutch Harbor at Jamestown, Rhode Island.

It was now that I got a huge surprise. A friend I had grown up and gone to school with, and not seen in over forty years, contacted me through FaceBook and told me she and her husband had a home in Jamestown, and that they also owned two moorings in Dutch Harbor. Jamestown is a beautiful little village opposite Newport on Narraganset Bay. Kim told us we could make use of either mooring for as long as we wished. Kim and her husband live in London, England most of the year and she said they would be in Jamestown while we were there as their oldest daughter was to be married in New York the following week. We spent three nights in Jamestown, and were able to join Kim and her husband for dinner. She also welcomed us to use their home for showers and laundry. It was great to see Kim and her husband, and meet their youngest daughter, Phoebe. We very much enjoyed our time there.

We left Jamestown and Dutch Harbor early the following Sunday morning, bound for Onset, Massachusetts and the eastern entrance of the Cape Cod Canal. We were under motor power for much of the way, but in the afternoon after entering Buzzard’s Bay, the wind filled in and we had a wild and spray filled ride through the bay to the harbor entrance at Onset. We spent a quiet night on a town mooring and planned our route for Maine after passing through the Canal. Our friends aboard GRACE were also in Onset. From there, they were heading to Boston, and then to Gloucester, Massachusetts.

*Approaching The Cape Cod Canal, eastern entrance*

As in New York Harbor, we had to have our timing right with the tide to get through the Cape Cod Canal, as the current can flow at up to six knots or faster through the canal channel. Going against it is futile. The day dawned foggy and gray, but soon we were out and riding the start of the flood tide in Buzzard’s Bay. Our planning paid off and soon we were zipping through the Canal, sometimes moving at nearly ten knots over the ground.

We had originally planned to sail directly from the western side of the Cape Cod Canal for Boothbay Harbor, Maine. However, the weather wasn’t cooperative, so we set a course for the small town of Scituate, MA, just south of Boston. We were able to make way under sail some of the day, dodging lobster trap buoys and rain squalls, but eventually had to motor as the winds collapsed. We entered the very crowded harbor at Scituate and after contacting the harbormaster’s office on the radio, were shown to a mooring. We showered, and had a very mediocre, yet very pricey, dinner in town under gray and misty skies.

The next morning dawned clear and sunny. We were soon out of Scituate Harbor and into the Gulf of Maine. We had been able to make arrangements through an acquaintance in Maine to use a friend of a friend’s mooring in tiny Tenants Harbor, and altered our plans accordingly for an overnight passage. The lobster pots were thick as we left the Massachusetts coast in our wake, and we hoped to see them thin out as we sailed into deeper waters further into the Gulf. The pots did thin significantly, but to our astonishment, we would still see them in waters as deep as eight hundred feet. We saw few boats in the Gulf, and by sunset, we were passing Portland, Maine, 45 miles over the southwestern horizon.

The night passed uneventfully, and we were able to sail much of the way. Around three in the morning, the wind faltered and we began motor sailing. By sunrise, we could see the hulking shape of Monhegan Island, our first Maine landmark. Next came Allen’s Island and Burnt Island, then Hart Island and The Brothers, a group of three small rock islands, and then Mosquito Island. The number and density of brightly colored and bobbing lobster pots increased exponentially, and dozens of lobster boats rumbled all around us, collecting their catches and then baiting and resetting the traps. The day dawned bright and clear, and as we neared Tenants Harbor, we were hailed by the trawler yacht, LIBERDADE.

Lisa and I use a professional weather forecasting service, and each morning the service hosts weather briefings for various parts of world over SSB Radio, (Single Side Band Radio – long range capable), with an internet webcast made simultaneously. We use the webcast as we don’t have SSB Radio. LIBERDADE called us to say hello, as they knew of us from participation in the webcasts.

By noon, we had entered Tenants Harbor and were on the hunt for our friend of a friend’s mooring. Soon, we found it and the mooring’s owner, Steve Cartwright, rowed out in his dinghy to introduce himself. We are very grateful for all of the kindness and generosity we’ve experienced from friends new and old in our travels.

We also discovered that friends from the Florida Keys were at Tenants Harbor. We met Corrina and her husband Greg while we were in Marathon. We knew they owned a restaurant in Maine, but couldn’t remember where it was – but, we remembered the name – ‘The Happy Clam.’ A quick look at Google Maps, and we saw that the ‘Clam,’ as it’s locally known, was a very short walk away from the Tenants Harbor public landing. We went for dinner that evening, and lunch the next day, and very much enjoyed catching up with them. If you’re ever near Tenants Harbor or the tiny village of St. George in Maine, go to the Clam. Corrina’s clam chowder and steamed mussels are amazing, and the lobster roll is the best you’ll have in all of New England. We had promised Corrina that if we were ever in Maine, we’d find her and The Clam. We were so glad we did!

We were in Maine for a Pacific Seacraft owner’s GAM. ‘GAM’ is a term from the days of the sailing ships, and more specifically, whaling ships. These ships were often at sea for a year or longer, and when they would happen to meet in mid-ocean, the moods of weather and captains permitting, they would stop their work and basically have a huge party – or a GAM – as they drifted together. The Pacific Seacraft GAM was to set start in a couple of days at Hay Island, Maine. We stayed on Steve’s mooring for two nights, and then made ready to sail to Hay Island, near Vinalhaven Island, for the GAM.