Encounters at sea . . .

Wende McIlwain
Sep 2, 2018 · 6 min read

I personally have retired from the sea after many years of sailing with John on a variety of beautiful boats we have owned — he was a great captain, allowing me some of life’s most sublime and horrific moments! Now I find my pleasures on the edge of the sea and in my gardens, a more natural environment for an earth sign . . . Not so for John. The sea is in his blood. Even though last season he retired his sailboat, a sweet Cape Dory Typhoon, Blossom, who we often still see sailing around the harbor where we sailed ourselves, the urge to be upon the sea came upon John again this season . . .

I give you, John, in his first appearance in these pages, and I hope not the last.

Windjammer cruise of 2018 . . .

One day this spring, on a whim, I signed up for a Maine Windjammer cruise. Windjammers, for those unfamiliar with the coast of Maine, are some 15 old working schooners that once brought timber and granite and other Maine products down to Boston and New York. They’ve been repurposed to take landlubbers out to experience the old days of sailing and the beauties of Penobscot Bay, its many islands and stunning coves.

Some asked, quite reasonably, why I, old salt that I once was, would go on an admittedly “tourist” trip. Just for the fun of it, I answered, and to be on the water again with no responsibilities, no work required, and the prospect of days lazing on the weather rail while others trimmed the sails.

With scant research — why research a whim, after all — I found my way to the schooner Mercantile sailing out of Camden:

The SV Mercantile, full of ‘lubbers instead of timber

She was built in 1916 in Maine for the local cargo trade. She’s 115 feet overall (80 feet on deck) and easily accommodated our 18 passengers and crew of four.

My second whim was to invite my lifetime friend R., another soul with a life long love of the sea, who unexpectedly said yes. (We actually owned our first boat together when we were around 10).

One of the Mercantile’s attractions to old farts like us was private cabins. Mine, though no bigger than a shoe box, was perfectly adequate as long as I moved slowly and with great care. But the berth was comfortable and greatly enhanced repetitive napping.

We signed up for a three night cruise at the end of August to accommodate his travel and to wait for more settled weather. I didn’t know at the time that it would overlap with the warmly anticipated visit of C, C2 and Phoenix D, so I wound up missing much merriment and C2’s blueberry pie, but did get to rule at bocce!

We arrived Sunday evening to meet the crew (Capitan, mate, deckhand, and, most important, the cook), stow our gear and be briefed on safety, head use, and other vital info. Then to a delightful dinner with W and dear friend D, both of whom had come to check out this folly and see us off and expresses dismay at the sparse accommodations.

At the dock, schooners awaiting their guests

The next morning after breakfast on board and a long wait for fresh lobsters and the final supplies, we pushed out of Camden Harbor. Pushed because the Mercantile has no engine, and instead uses a small yawl boat with its engine to maneuver when in port.

She tucks up under the Mercantile’s stern to give a push

We passed through Camden’s amazing collection of stunning yachts, and simple ones as well.

We picked up a gentle breeze outside the harbor and, with an amazing amount of Heaving and Ho’ing by guests and crew alike, the sails were set.

It’s a long way up to set the sails!

No winches, you see, all done in the traditional manner of hauling up the halyards for the throat and the peak of the heavy canvas mainsail and fore sale; oh, and then the staysail and the jib.

Sails set at last, on a starboard reach across the bay

Under sail, we moved to the gentle sway of the winds and water, and it was then I realized why I had gone on this fling — I felt deeply at home. There is something about the way a good boat dances with the waves, swaying to the wind, the feel of the deck under me, the sight of the sails above, the flow of wind and water in their eternal rhythms, that evokes ancient body memories for me. Perhaps I was a seal in a prior life, or, more likely, crew on a square-rigger or a working schooner — at least I’d like to think that. After all, my great grandfather captained square riggers from Boston to the Orient in the 1800's.

Two naps and lunch later, we worked our way up a long quiet cove to its northern end between Vinalhaven and Leadbetter Islands, and then dropped one of the two huge Navy anchors fastened to the bow. This was, of course, followed by drinks (yes, I brought my own pre-mixed Martinis), and dinner (fresh lobsters and steak, with garlic mashed potatoes) and early to bed.

Can you find where we dropped anchor?
The small Vinalhaven wind farm. Yeah!
A quiet cove for the evening…

The weather continued to favor us the next day, and after breakfast, there was great huffing and puffing as we took turns on the capstan to haul up the anchor and scoot through a small cut back out into the bay. Lunch included lobster (hand picked by guests) ravioli. Later in the afternoon, we sailed along the west shore of Islesboro, known, I’m told, as “Billionaires Row” due to the amazing collection of Newport-style “cottages.”

Too many bedrooms for too many guests!

We anchored early for the night and the crew lured some who were naïve to Maine to go ashore for a walk; the education about the Maine mosquito was swift and all pleaded to be brought back aboard immediately. Then, drinks again, and meatloaf and mashed sweet potatoes for dinner. Yes, folks, a hardship cruise with nothing but hardtack.

We motored back the next morning as it was windless and we needed to be in by 10 am (and I’m guessing the crew and guests would have mutinied were we tasked with hauling up the sails only to furl them again two hours later!).

So this was one of my very best whims. R and I, as always, enjoyed time together, the ship was a fine taste of the old days on board, and the crew was appropriately bearded and boaty, young guys who loved the boating life. Is the Mercantile for everyone? Not so much, and by the time I got home, W had already researched a vessel for next year, one she would be willing to join me on, the schooner Ladona:

Cruising the Upper Middle Way

She’s a serious upgrade, as you might expect, nowhere as basic as the sturdy, stolid, yet wonderful Mercantile. So stand by, me matey’s, for further seafaring adventures next year! Care to join us??

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