We did it. Three years in the waiting, but it happened. No sickness to hold us back, no schedules to reorganize, no threat of bad weather to deter or squash the plan. The boys and I got our boat trip up to Camden, ME in what was probably the last possible weekend it could be done.
While some of you may already know this, we are learning that boating is a spectator sport. By that I mean that the journey is just as important and pleasurable (usually) as the destination. This is especially true when your trip is only one night long. In this case, the journey, as the seagull flies, would only have taken about an hour and a half, but on Runtime, and with calm seas, it was about a four hour cruise. All “everyone” had to do was sit back, relax, and not think about how cold they were because, oh my, it was freezing on that voyage!
I have never stayed in a lean-to the night prior to hiking Katahdin. I have never had to be responsible for set-up or take-down of a campsite. I have never been known to say that being cold is preferable to being warm. But I have woken up on a boat that didn’t know it had heat so that I could go outside to untie cold, wet lines in temperatures that keep my ice cream happy. Even the frost remained on the windows long after the sun had risen. It was a chilly departure, but our hearts were warm with anticipation.
Despite the frigidness, the ‘spectator-ing’ was perfect. Since the seas were so calm, it meant that any whale spray was quite visible above the surface of the water. Minke whale and dolphin pods were spotted along the way, and the seals on the Isle of Shoals put on a fun show as they fidgeted into comfortable positions on the rocks. Sadly, I don’t have photo evidence of any aquatic life. You never know when you’ll see something and probably wouldn’t have time to get out the camera before the creature is twelve leagues under the sea again anyway. Enjoying the sighting live and storing the memory is often better than looking back at a shaky, grainy photo of “that gray blob right there – zoom in – see the bump on that wave? Yeah, that’s the seal’s head.”
Another benefit to flat seas is the pace at which you can cruise. You could reach speeds upwards of 30 knots should you wish to be as efficient as Runtime’s captain likes to be, or you could slow down to nine knots and take in Maine’s coastal foliage at a more leisurely pace. We did a bit of both and didn’t regret it.
Masterfully docking the boat, Danny was glad that his wife finally learned the names of the lines and which cleats to wrap them around to secure his perfect parking. Embracing nostalgia, we then spent the afternoon strolling downtown Camden, popping in and out of tourist shops, and revisiting the site where we became Mr. and Mrs. When the boys grew tired of our romanticism, we returned to the boat to await the arrival of supper time and some visitors.
What this next photo doesn’t show you is another concept you learn while boating which is that you go to bed early, because you’ll wake up at 6:13 am when the noisy patter of two boys begins but won’t be mad about it because you’re too busy dealing with how frozen you are to complain, but then the captain figures out what more of the controls do and, miraculously, if you turn the gauge up to a higher number, it produces heat in the main cabin and “everyone” is then very happy and ready to serve breakfast. Isn’t sunrise on a boat beautiful?
One good thing about waking up so early is that you have time both for a slow-paced breakfast and also a hurried sprint to all the stores to buy the souvenirs you had your eye on the previous day before you have to check out and head home. With the sun shining, gifts purchased, coffee consumed, and the waves and swells forecasted to be non-existent to very small, our optimism was as high as a sunflower growing on the sidewalk. We were truly looking forward to the journey home.
I spoke too soon. You know how I said that boating is just as much about the journey as it is the destination? Yeah, well, you can take that and chuck it into the Atlantic for all the enjoying we did on the way home. If the way to Camden was all Minke whales and warm hearts and a level horizon, then the return voyage was a tropical storm of New England proportions. Though the waves weren’t actually that high (in fact, the NOAA site that the captain uses to track such things predicted only 1-2 foot waves), apparently it was the period in between each wave that mattered. Crucial knowledge for us to know going forward, we endured getting pummeled mercilessly from waves that were roughly two seconds apart. Since it was white-capped seas and white-knuckled grips, we had to go half as fast, thus taking us twice as long to return to our home dock.
Never have I been happier to see the welcoming arm of this drawbridge, saluting us as we crossed into the harbor.
See you next season, Atlantic!
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