Schoodic Peninsula, Acadia National Park

These photos show a beautiful bay on the Schoodic Peninsula, part of Acadia National Park. We sailed up here from Southwest Harbor on Mount Desert Island (which you can see in the background of one photo) and very carefully worked our way into this little cove. We anchored in a tiny hole between the rocks, the ubiquitous lobster pots, and a small ledge that was visible under the surface, and set a second anchor to stop the boat from drifting around onto the ledge. The water is cold, but extremely clear, and from the bow you can see the anchor chain descending in a graceful arc to the seafloor.

Max dived in with his wetsuit on and started exploring the kelp. Without wetsuit I rowed the dinghy ashore – Pond Island - and wandered the beach looking at the flotsam; old lobster pots, bits of fishing line, torn gloves and lots of super dry driftwood bleached almost white by the sea and sun. Would be wonderful for a massive bonfire! Toasted marshmellows!…oh that’s right, it’s a National Park.

I went to the mainland and bumped into a lobsterman who had been for a run along the waterfront. Sure beats the Equinox Gym on 51^st and 7^th. He was in his mid-forties, affable, interesting and straightforward with a hilarious but very dry sense of humour; traits I am starting to recognize as distinctly Maine. We chatted for nearly an hour about lobstering and boats. I was happy when he said he had never seen a yacht in this cove (less happy when he said he once saw somebody surfing the break where we were anchored). I asked if his lobstering license allowed him to fish anywhere. He answered that technically it did, but that it was territorial. If you push to far outside your traditional fishing zone, first you find a knot in your lobster pot line. It’s the locals telling you to beat it. Next you may find the spindle broken off your pot’s float. After that, they may cut the float right off, leaving a few of your, in this case, seven hundred ($100 each) lobster pots on the seafloor… “but we all have knives…”

Ultimately we moved the boat: the tides here are around 20’, and it was a good thing we did: later in the afternoon water began to break over the ledge, and in the evening, it was fully exposed. A most beautiful spot. We had dinner and a bottle of sauvignon blanc as the sun set behind MDI, but as this little spot was so treacherous, and exposed to the SW breeze, we hoisted the anchor. We stayed around the corner and slept well and uneventfully (I’m fond of sleeping well and uneventfully, and I think you need to spend a few nights eventfully not sleeping to fully understand why) in Winter Harbor at 44°22.98N, 68°05.33W.