Maine Coast: September 22-26, 2006

For a couple of years, now, my friend Sheryl has expressed an interest in taking a trip on one of those schooners that sails around the Maine coast. I cannot say this has ever been a particular goal of mine, but let it never be said that I am anything other than highly suggestible when it comes to travel plans. This year, we finally got around to going, largely thanks to Sheryl's efforts to make reservations and the like.

We sailed on the Victory Chimes, which is the three-masted ship on the Maine state quarter. A few people onboard asked why we chose the Victory Chimes. Sheryl invariably explained that she had looked at a number of boats on the internet, and this one was the coolest.

The Victory Chimes sails out of Rockland, Maine. To get there from New York, we had to fly into Portland then take a bus for a little over two hours. On the way up to Rockland, the bus ran a movie. The Love Bug. The original Love Bug. I don't recall seeing this movie as a child, though I suspect I just blocked it out. I did not plug in the bus-provided headphones. The visuals were enough to horrify me.

Anyway, once we got to Rockport, it was time to load up on dinner and find booze for the trip. We settled on a couple of little bottles of cheap champagne and Bellini mix, which we wound up storing on the coolers up on deck.

That evening, we boarded the ship and checked out our cabin. Anyone who has ever complained about the size of my apartment would not have been pleased. There were two single beds, bunked one on top of the other. They took up nearly half the room. It was quite cozy. After checking out the mattresses, Sheryl took the top bunk. My lower bunk was situated such that I could not actually sit up in bed, giving me a pleasant, coffin-like sense of security while I rested.

I should note that, when you are laying on one bunk, you can't see the person on the other bunk. That's why, when Barnacle Bill the Mariner knocked on our door and asked if he could come in to check our porthole (our actual porthole, you deviants -- you're supposed to close them when sailing), I shouted, "Yes!" I didn't realize Sheryl was severely adjusting her jeans! Oops.

Up on deck, we noticed a seal swimming around the harbor. Although Sheryl looked for it every day, it never reappeared. A little later, a line of about three ducks swam by. The one in the lead kept quacking at intervals. Unfortunately, it was too dim by then to get a decent picture of them.

Also up on deck, we noticed our fellow passengers, the youngest of whom was probably a decade or so older than us. People kept asking us if we were part of Meg's Group. Meg (who later showed up on the trip) apparently runs some kind of social group and often organizes trips on the Victory Chimes. She also was big on offering massages to people. The world is full of people who are a lot friendlier than me.

Once again, I admit that there are not many adventures to report on this trip. For one thing, I was feeling sort of ill (not from the seasickness, though I did chuck the patch after half a day because it was knocking me out). For another, it was freaking cold, and as my ten minutes of rushed packing the morning we left did not include all of my Antarctica gear, the deck sometimes got pretty shivery if I stayed up there too long.

Although the weather was pretty sloppy (there was some concern about getting clipped by the remnants of a tropical storm), we did sail a lot, and checked out two places on the coast: the little town of Castine, and the Holbrook Island Sanctury in Brooksville.

As you can probably see, it was pretty overcast when we hit Castine. We got into a smaller launching boat and skittered over to Castine's little dock. The whole 'get into a smaller launching craft' thing reminded of Antarctica, as we usually made one or two such landings daily in Zodiacs (motorized rafts). Of course, there weren't any penguins in Maine. We didn't see any puffins, either, even though we were surprised to see puffin gear all over the souvenir shops in Rockland. Our sudden puffin hopes were dashed when we learned that you can only see puffins in a fairly far-off area of Maine. I guess I'll have to go to Iceland to see them, after all.

Once in Castine, we stopped into a little coffee shop type place, and the woman at the counter mentioned the need to batten down for the storm that was coming. Castine itself seemed pretty upscale. It wasn't filled with Louis Vutton stores or anything like that, but the houses were well-kept and the cars tended to be big and shiny. (Incidentally, the horrible storm never seemed to reach us.)

Later that day, we made a quick stop at the sanctuary. It was full of growing stuff, and also a couple of children. Although the brochure that I snagged on the little walking trail mentioned there were ducks in the area, I am sad to report that I did not see or photograph any. We did, however, spot one bald eagle flying around. He was too far off for me to get a picture of anything other than an airbourne blob. I apologize. Please accept this fern picture as penance:

Beyond that, there is little to say beyond what went on in the galley. Specifically, we chowed down on lobster! The Captain hates Broadway and isn't afraid to say so. Also, Sheryl volunteered to help the cooks a lot, so she became a favorite and was able to snag extra dessert spoons when we needed them. It is usually a good idea to pack a friendly person when you travel, because they are handy like that.

Next up? My fabulous trip to the Days Inn located one stop past Atlantic City on the Garden State Parkway.