Southwest Winds

McCall at the wheel, with Jacques

Maine is a hotspot for sailors. But do we do any real sailing here? Precious little… The Boothbys are gathering for their annual family reunion and a great number of activities have been planned, all inland. Before the arrival of the whole clan, we do manage to steal one delightful afternoon and evening on the boat with Rick's sister Barb and husband Jeff, along with their daughter McCall and significant other Jacques, who came all the way from Colorado. 

While it's a little hard to leave the boat behind, we have a grand time with the bigger Boothby crowd ashore  – visiting the family picnic grounds in Turner for lunch and swimming, enjoying lobster feasts and croquet/badminton/corn-holing competitions at Barb’s, and then taking on a killer two-night canoe-camping trip at the remote and pristine Lake Umbagog near New Hampshire. Aside from  a few pains (like two nights of little to no sleep on a completely flat, leaky air mattress), the visit is a hit as always.

Rick and I manage to see a movie in Portland before heading back. The theater shows a good twenty minutes of advertisements, even before the previews. Normally I would be thoroughly annoyed at having paid money to sit and look at commercials, but I am so video deprived from a month on our internet limited boat that I sit there, wide-eyed, munching on popcorn from the giant bag I bought. Heaven!

We also take an overnight trip up to Boothbay to visit our friends Tim and Susan. Tim is a newly retired philosophy professor from Rick’s department, who has also been Rick’s close friend and pool night chum for years. Tim has owned a number of sailboats during his lifetime, and Rick often seeks his advice about all things boaty, particularly engines. Sadly for us, Tim and Susan have left Baltimore permanently to enjoy their retirement in Maine. They have completely settled in, though. Susan has become very active with the local gardening club, and Tim is the newest member of the “Romeos” (Real Old Men Eating Out). Apparently the Romeos get together once a week for lunch and they have a strict rule that you can’t spend more than five bucks. Rick wants to join right now. We thoroughly enjoy seeing them in their impressive new digs, and they give us a nice tour around Boothbay as well as a couple of fabulous meals. We are seriously considering Boothbay for our own retirement…

After a great week in Maine, it's time to head back south. The challenge is the prevailing southwest winds. Since that is the direction we mostly need to go to get back home, Rick is always worried about making it in time for his back-to-school deadline at the end of August. You can sail on winds that are in almost any direction around your boat, but not straight into them. Even motoring is difficult heading straight into a heavy wind and sea. Whenever there is a weather window that would allow us to travel down the coast, preferably without risking my getting seasick, we need to take it. With a light northwest forecast, we set off on an overnight to Provincetown.

In Provincetown, we perform our usual ritual of going into town for the smokey fish chowder at the “Squealing Pig”. Rick is so enamored of that soup that he proposes going back for more every day we are anchored in Provincetown. I love it too, but every day? It’s not popcorn you know! Instead, I convince him to visit the very touristy "Lobster Pot" where we have a surprisingly wonderful lunch.  Rick orders a portuguese seafood stew they call "Algarve" and it is a huge hit. I keep stealing bites of it and swooning with pleasure. I don't care much for the squid in it though. I still remember the episode of "This American Life" where Ira Glass does a whole exposé on the modern day substitution of pork bung for calamari. What is pork bung? Just what you think it is - neat little white rings of pig anus. Not surprisingly, pork bung is cheaper than squid and therefore very tempting for the penny pinching restauranteur. Even the experts interviewed on TAL couldn't tell the difference. Now, whenever Rick and I encounter calamari, fried or otherwise, I always wonder what exactly we are eating. If we aren't reassured by finding some little tentacle-y bits, it can be very disturbing. Hungry yet?

Calamari or Pork Bung...?

We spend our last night anchored at the beach, at the very end of the spiral sand spit. Unfortunately it is too cold to swim, but we have fun watching the seals who gather there in groups of a dozen or more. Rick claims to have seen at one time as many as fifty heads sticking out of the water, over an arc of about an eighth of a mile.

Taking advantage of another day of northwest breezes, we sail down to Onset, MA.  Of course we have to go in yet again to Marc Anthony’s for pizza and clams. If you follow this blog, you must think this dive is the only eatery in town. It's not, but the loud, coarse staff, and the crazy, haphazard decor, along with the incredibly good food, makes the place irresistible, at least for us. The town is hosting an all day blues festival tomorrow; of course we have to stay for that! Going on at the same time, there is also the Pan Mass biking event that sends thousands of bikers through the little town. Locals have set up chairs to watch the bikers and listen to the music, cheering on the riders and thanking them loudly for their participation in the charity event. I love hearing the exaggerated Massachusetts accents that abound here. The music is good, but the day is a scorcher. We're not terribly disappointed when the darkening clouds force a retreat back to the boat.

Next stop: Block Island, my most favorite place in the world! I’m hoping those southwest winds maroon us there for a good long while.