...intermittent thunder
Lets us know
The gods are arriving,
One valley over.
(from the poem "New Hampshire", by Howard Moss)
The Summer Triangle is back in the sky and the Northern New England Circumnavigation Society meets again and rides forth into Maine's blue water and June fogs. The inland storms do battle in their high aeries and we watch from our fortress island. It's good to be back on the water for real.
Oh, we go to ERICA'S again, which means lobster heaven. Scallop heaven. Fried Oysters, anyone? How about the CRABSTER? 3oz of Lobster, 1oz of Crab, 4oz of Perfection. One of the very best lobster shacks in Maine. ERICA'S is small boat friendly! Cash only.
GreenMountain John is now CHEF JUAN
For the weak of remembering NNECS is:
Sea Pearl 21 SCOUT
Sea Pearl 21 INDIGO
François Vivier Ilur WAXWING
Herreshoff Coquina SLIFPER
For the weak of remembering NNECS is:
Sea Pearl 21 SCOUT
Sea Pearl 21 INDIGO
François Vivier Ilur WAXWING
Herreshoff Coquina SLIFPER
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| WE MEET |
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| I AM A CRABBY RULER OF THIS ISLAND |
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| WE MEET AGAIN |
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| THE COMMODORE JUMPS WAVES FOR BREAKFAST |
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| CHEF JUAN SAILS INTO THE FOG |
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| THE COMMODORE SAILS INTO THE FOG |
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| I don't sail into the fog and get a nice tan |
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| Chef Juan took this picture |
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| We raft to converse, eat, and drink. MERRINESS TOO. |
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| I take SLIFPER ouf for a ride and the Commodore foints the way so I don't hif rocks |
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| FRIENDS |
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| CHEF JUAN COOKS ANOTHER MEAN MEAL FOR US TWO-BURNER STYLE LIKE A BOSS |
DAY TWO
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| CHEF JUAN and WAXWING under the mackerel sky |
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| The Commodore rolls in NOT-SO-HOT |
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| BREAKFAST TIME, WHERE'S THE SUN?! |
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| Drying clothes can only mean one thing: IT RAINED A LOT |
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| ERICA'S SEAFOOD The one, the only. |
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| HEADING TO JEWELL |
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| THE THUNDER ROLLS IN |
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| NNECS rows into Jewell for exploration |
IN WHICH CHEF JUAN SETS UP AN OUTHAUL WITH MUCH SUCCESS
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| Partnership and community building |
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| Setting the anchor |
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| The Commodore and Chef Juan work together while Cap'n Jon wanders off at a critical time I think he's looking at rocks. |
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| SUCCESS |
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| CHEF JUAN walks through the birch grove of his distant dreams while birdsong pulls him onwards into the forest with the crashing sea around and the thunder above we all walk the lonely paths through our forests of birch and fern |
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| The next valley over |
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| The Commodore just really needs to get it together |
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| I (author) use my new precision engineered German umbrella while everyone laughs at me from their tents. Some buddies these guys are! Jeez-O. The umbrella was great, though. |
DAY THREE
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| Intrepid Readers may remember my fondness for SOFT-BOILED EGGS I believe the art of cooking the perfect soft-boiled egg has skipped a generation. As it is with many things, I remain an anomaly to my age group. I cook damn good soft-boiled eggs. Ignore the sand that got into it. |
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| NNECS rides out of Jewell and for home |
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| Chef Juan took this picture |
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| Cap'n Jon took this picture of SCOUT CRUSHING IT |
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| SCOUT jumps waves for breakfast too! Chef Juan took this picture |
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| INDIGO CRUSHING IT |
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| WAXWING CRUSHING IT |
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| Kinda-lunch on Whaleboat Island We should have had lunch but didn't Stupid. |
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| The most heroic picture of Cap'n Jon EVAR. I mean, c'mon guys, is he not being SUPER MANLY right now, or what? He's like a steel-worker. We towed the two other boats back up the Royal River to the ramp due to a 20kt+ wind blowing straight down the river, and a contrary tide. The water looks smooth because there is no fetch. It was blowing hard here. We could have easily spent the night at the mouth but some of us (me) had to go home, so we fired up the Iron Mizzens. |
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| I tow the Commodore. I will say, his sailing into my precarious position close to the shore combined with my tow-line throwing were so perfect, it was like we were sailors, or something. Had to see it. Seamanship pays off. |
THE END FOR NOW, THE SUMMER IS YOUNG
