%20(1).png){kind=spacer}
We dreamed about a week-long boat trip exploring some of the finest passages, harbors and islands in the world. When we explored Maine’s legendary coast from Rockland to Mount Desert Island, it became our best cruise ever. Captain Greg and I boarded our sailboat charter, a 1990 Sabre (made in Maine) Lucky Dog in Rockland. We were happy to zip through town just as the popular August Maine Lobster Fest parade was finishing.
After a brief charter orientation, Captain Greg and I embarked out of Rockland’s bustling harbor on the new-to-us sailboat Lucky Dog. Passing the iconic Rockland Breakwater Lighthouse, we were in impressive company with historic ships like the U.S. Coast Guard Cutter Eagle in port for the festival. Big, beautiful Penobscot Bay was incredibly calm, but with no wind we continued our motor-sail. Lucky Dog was earning her name as we learned her decks and Greg navigated from the helm with his preplotted itinerary.
Leaving the sloping granite shores of Rockland and Camden Hills behind, we cruised to North Haven, ME. I marveled at how Rockland, Rockport and Limestone were named for the burgeoning 1800s granite industry that built monuments in New York City and Washington, D.C. Brown’s Head Light marked the inner passage of Fox Island Thoroughfare which winds its way between North Haven and Vinalhaven islands. We avoided bunches of bright lobster pots bobbing on the waterline, while I spied North Haven’s mooring field on this enchanting harbor.
After settling onboard, we launched Lucky Pup (ok, I named the dingy) and tied up at the public dock for a walk around North Haven’s time- elapsed village. The offerings are humble: a brew pub, The Landing lunch spot, and the charming Nebo Lodge up the hill, where we had delicious lobster and a homemade pasta dish by candlelight. The proprietor Angie introduced herself — it’s that kind of cozy, yet surprisingly sophisticated restaurant for such a small island. Other diners had come by ferry just for this restaurant!
Back aboard our sailboat, a spectacular sunset over Penobscot was shrouded in artistic fog. If only I could paint, I thought. Our night’s sleep in the V-berth was peaceful, save for a fiddler playing on a nearby schooner, and the occasional sway from a passing vessel.
We awoke to very early Maine sun, and after a fortifying percolator coffee on our propane stove, we crossed Deer Isle Thoroughfare en route to Cranberry Isles and Acadia. The waters were eerily quiet, as we noted there is no lobstering on Sunday in Maine. Our radar indicated rain, possibly thunder, and fog was building, so we grabbed a vacant mooring in Stonington to have lunch and wait it out. Soon, improved conditions allowed us to ply the serene waters, in this magnificent channel of pine- covered islands and shimmering granite shores. Too many seals to count popped up for a breath, then disappeared into the dark sea. Apparently, they had no time for my photo — only time to fish.
Sailing through the archipelago of famed Merchant’s Row, onto tricky Casco Passage, we rounded Bass Harbor Head Light, with fog chasing us and an occasional boat appearing from the mist. Our first glimpse of grand Mount Desert Island revealed its rocky topped Cadillac Mountain draped in a mystical cloud skirt — a glorious sight. Sailing around Great Cranberry Island, we settled into Islesford on the shores of Little Cranberry Island, our mooring for the night. Dinner ashore at Islesford Dock Restaurant & Gallery was fabulous at a corner table overlooking the peaceful harbor of lobster boats and visiting sailboats. We had the best Lobster Thermidor ever.
The next morning, we strolled around Little Cranberry — a rustic island with humble homes, relic trucks and lobster traps piled high on side yards. A few locals we passed told us Lil’ Cran is now “home to more mosquitos than cranberries.” Funny, or just frank, Mainers? Returning to our boat, the wind was picking up, accompanied by brilliant sunshine! We raised sails and released the mooring ball (choreography by Captain Greg and his crew — me — have mastered and remained married). We had a perfect view of Mount Desert’s sparkly granite peaks, lush evergreens and bubbles (yes that’s what the hills of Acadia are called).
Lucky Dog sailed true in the bold 20 mph gusts. I donned my sailing gloves to trim the tight lines. We tacked up spectacular Frenchman Bay, then sailed back toward Northeast Harbor. Along the stunning shoreline of Otter Cliffs, I admired the grand “cottages” of Seal Harbor and waved to Martha Stewart and fellow billionaires’ mansions. Sailing into Northeast Harbor, avoiding lobster pots and summer yachts, we radioed for a town dock slip. A refreshing marina shower and walk up the hill to “town” was a welcome activity off the boat.
Colonel’s Restaurant & Bakery provided a classic Maine lunch of loaded clam chowder and a lobster grilled cheese — yum! We browsed shops, art galleries, popped in Pine Tree Market for provisions, and toured the Great Harbor Maritime Museum, which was well worth the $5 donation to learn the evolution of Mount Desert Island. Dinner at Copita on Main Street featured more Maine lobster and halibut risotto, accompanied by cocktails crafted by the proprietor bartender. Back on deck, we enjoyed echoes of cocktail banter from our 100-foot-plus yacht neighbors. We said cheers from the cheaper boat.
Departing Northeast Harbor, we hugged Mount Desert’s shoreline, gazing at grand summer cottages of generational wealth. We poked up into Somes Sound, heralded as the only natural fjord in America. It is truly spectacular with granite cliffs and dense dark pines surrounding the dramatic deep blue waterway — like Norway.
Passing kids sailing little prams at summer camp, the Hinckley boat facility in Southwest Harbor came into view. At Dysart’s Great Harbor Marina, we refueled, pumped out, refilled fresh water, found our slip and checked in at reception, which was guarded by Marina, the amiable little dock dog.
Strolling Southwest Harbor, we shopped at a handful of boutiques, galleries and cafes. A 20-minute walk led us to the Claremont Hotel, a classic Maine lodge completely renovated to chic elegance — very “Instagram-able” from the pink pool umbrellas to oceanfront croquet, and a crackling fire in the lounge by the chandeliered dining room.
The next morning, splendid sunshine and 8-to-12-knot winds made for an invigorating sail as Mount Desert’s grand granite shores faded to our stern. Dodging lobster pots (estimated at 3 million in Maine’s salty waters), we sailed past Black Island where silver shores and lofty pines revealed flocks of shorebirds with our binocs. We tacked towards Casco Passage commenting on the unspoiled beauty of Maine.
With sudden fluky winds, and news of a brewing hurricane barreling up the coast, we pivoted to sailing up Eggemoggin Reach in lieu of Merchant’s Row. We held an exciting 10-mile reach up this spectacular channel amid several sailboats. Gliding under the massive Deer Isle suspension bridge brought us to Thrumb Cap Ledge. By Pumpkin Light, we entered horseshoe-shaped Bucks Harbor, the summer home of Robert McCloskey, author of Make Way for Ducklings and One Morning in Maine.
After a pleasant check-in chat at Buck’s Harbor Marina, we hiked up the steep hill to town which consists of a small market and Buck’s Restaurant — that’s it, that’s all folks. That evening, a gorgeous sunset on the bay melted over boat masts along verdant pine treetops into darkness, except for the twinkling anchor lights enjoyed from our “lucky” deck.
We awoke to superb sunshine, so we ventured to more peaceful, calm, crystal-clear waters. As we cruised by remote islands, I read to Greg about how Maine’s wild coast was ambitiously navigated for centuries by explorers, settled by natives, then rusticators. Barred Islands made for a lovely picnic anchorage, amid Butter, Bartender and Escargot islands, in the shadows of Great Spruce Head. We were sailing briskly feeling the boat heel as we returned to the bustle of ferries and pleasure craft around Camden and Rockland.
Our best marina greeting yet was Safe Harbor Rockland where a crew of four dockhands awaited Lucky Dog’s lines, which I had improved handling over the week. My hot shower in the modern marina facilities felt wonderful but wobbly after a week of boating. Can you say, “sea legs”? We walked to Rockland’s brick-lined Main Street, poking in a few art galleries before our delicious dinner at Rustica where we toasted our successful adventure. Back at Safe Harbor Marina, we watched our concluding Maine sunset in fiery orange from a fire table overlooking Rockland Harbor ... satisfying and stellar!
By Marjorie Kernan
What is needed: An old-fashioned clambake takes about 5 to 6 hours to prepare and about 45 minutes to cook. You will need shovels, work gloves, a wheelbarrow, firewood and paper to start a fire, plus a sturdy, clean canvas tarp. Traditional ingredients include lobster, clams, mussels, oysters, potatoes and corn on the cob.
Getting started: Dig a 6-to-12-inch deep rectangular pit in the sand or earth and line it with stones, flat side up. Add any shape stones around the sides to build a small wall. The size of the pit depends on how many people will be eating the clambake.
Using wood, get a good blaze in the pit so that it’s eventually filled with red-hot coals. It takes a while to get a pit filled, so use the time in between to gather fresh seaweed. Rinse it in the ocean to keep out sand, and use a wheelbarrow to move it up the beach and keep it wet with more seawater. Note: It can take a lot of seaweed, depending on the size of the pit and how many layers you plan.
Cooking: When the coals are ready, gather all the seafood and spread a thick layer of seaweed directly onto the coals. You must work quickly at this point. Lobsters and potatoes go on first, then another layer of seaweed (thinner layer) for the clams, mussels, oysters, then the corn still in the husk. Pile a good thick layer of seaweed over everything, then put on a clean canvas tarp and weigh it on the sides with stones. The tarp keeps the heat in and is important for getting that classic smoky flavor.
Finishing up: It takes about 30 to 45 minutes for everything to cook — you can check it by testing the items at a corner. Tips: Be careful not to let sand get into the food as you work! Have several pairs of tongs available to pull the seafood out when it’s done — everything will be very hot.
Enjoying: Have melted butter, lemons, plates, bowls and lots of paper towels ready to go the moment the seafood is ready. Clambakes are messy and should be eaten outdoors. A good clambake is usually quiet when people start eating — they’re too happy to talk!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marjorie Kernan, a lifelong New Englander who has been in Maine for more than 45 years, enjoys sharing the traditional method of beachside clambakes.
Stay up to date with the latest articles, news and all things boating with a FREE subscription to Marinalife Magazine!
