Easing Into Maine

Sunday morning, Old Quarry Ocean Adventures, Stonington. We unload our boats and get our gear together, and the people start to arrive. We’re here for the third annual Wreck and Round Islands cleanup trip. When we lived full-time in Stonington, I was the steward for these Island Heritage Trust islands, and since I also worked at Old Quarry, it seemed like an obvious connection- provide a free guided trip to get a bunch of volunteers out to clean up the islands. After we left, we were pleased to learn that Island Heritage Trust planned to continue the tradition - Anne Douglas had agreed to lead the trip in our absence. But we were even happier when we realized we would be able to join the trip personally.

It takes awhile, as people trickle-in, to get us all ready and on the water, but eventually we’re all pointed toward Indian Point- a very familiar route. The day is warm and calm, and since it’s a Sunday, largely free of lobster boats. In the group we have three tandems and nine singles, three of whom are guides. Our group includes a couple of pre-school girls who ride with their parents in tandems, as well as a few people trying sea kayaking for the first time. We head across the Thorofare to Russ Island and I glimpse Stonington- my first view of it since that frigid morning in January when we left.

The path to Wreck Island is very familiar, and on this calm day, an easy, hour and a half trip. We land and have lunch before splitting into smaller groups to clean-up stretches of shoreline. I paddle over to pick-up the shores of Round Island with two friends. A couple of hours later, we’ve assembled large caches of garbage above the beaches- mostly fishing-related. A skipper from the Maine Island Trail Association arrives in one of their distinctive red Lund skiffs to haul the garbage back for us. Marissa, the organizer from Island Heritage Trust, passes around a tin of home-made cookies and we get ready for the trip back.

It’s one of those rare days when it seems we have wind and current behind us the whole way. We hardly need the break on Little Camp Island, but I figure it’s worth it for anyone who hasn’t experienced the sweeping views from the top.

As much as the trip’s purpose is to clean-up a couple of islands, it may be more important to get a few people out there enjoying them who might not otherwise have the chance. And even though we guide and teach to make a living, a trip like this seems to embody the real reasons we do it.

Another Saturday

Dan and his father Jack came over from New Hampshire and we met Saturday morning at Old Quarry. We’d planned this for a few weeks, knowing that the odds were good that the weather wouldn’t cooperate, but for the second Saturday in a row, it did.

At least the forecast looked good enough to make the trip a “go.” When it came time to launch, the east wind had picked up more than expected, driving small choppy waves across the mouth of Webb Cove. My clients didn’t seem very concerned. They had both been paddling off and on for years, but never in the winter with drysuits and the added risk of forty-degree water. They had driven 5 hours, spent the night at Boyce’s Motel and were gung-ho for a paddle. 

If I weren’t guiding this trip, I probably would have stayed in and watched the harbor from home, vacillating over whether I’d made the right choice. But like most days when you're on the fence, you get out there and it's great. So I listened to my clients and watched them as we headed across the first stretch of Thorofare. They looked comfortable and loose in their boats and they smiled when the waves increased. We pulled into the lee of Grog Island and chatted -- they’d asked for pointers so we worked some on technique and then headed across to the lee of Bold Island.

We used the islands like stepping stones, and each time we pulled out of the wind, it was an opportunity to assess how we were doing and what we wanted to do next. Each time Jack and Dan seemed eager to continue the more challenging way. When I’m guiding I often feel like I’m pushing my clients’ comfort levels, getting them to paddle further and try things they might not otherwise do. In this case, my clients didn’t need to be encouraged. In the Millet-Saddleback channel we plowed into fat, high-volume waves, and I was the one pointing us into calmer water in the lee of Saddleback.

We ate lunch on Enchanted and had a rough ride back toward Spruce, but continued along the exposed shore. I looked at Dan and said “we should head for some calmer water,” and he agreed, but as we paddled toward McGlathery, they were drawn to Blasters Rock as if it were calling them personally (that boulder does have that effect).

We eventually did get to more sheltered water as we paddled back through the middle of the archipelago. One last break: Little Camp Island. It’s funny how I get into patterns. Like the previous Saturday, we’d taken a variation of the Inner Archipelago Arc, although they were very different trips. Like the previous trip, at the end I just wanted to share that view from the top of the small, grassy island: little more than a mile from home, yet it feels like a fresh discovery every time I take someone there.

I caught myself saying "this would be pretty nice in the summer," something I seem to think fairly often lately.

Saturday in the Archipelago (In February)

At Old Quarry, the road to the ramp lay covered in snow from last weekend’s blizzard. We got into our drysuits in the heated office and pulled our boats like toboggans through the woods. We then carried them down the slippery granite steps beside the ramp at low tide. Heavy clouds hung over the archipelago, but with the air temperature above freezing and not much wind, it looked like a good day. Nate and I gave a minimal pre-trip briefing and we headed out.

This guided trip was the result of Island Heritage Trust creating an event for the Maine Great Outdoors Weekend.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to guide the trip. I have no desire to encourage others to paddle in the winter. The risks are far greater than the rest of the year, and it’s probably better for paddlers to incrementally increase their risks as they increase their skills. Going on a guided trip allows paddlers to abruptly leave their comfort zone -- maybe not a good thing. But it allows them to take those risks with guidance, perhaps building skills and confidence to eventually do it on their own. 

So it seemed important to get paddlers with some experience. Four of us were licensed guides who had recently practiced rescues in the pool together, while another had taken Nate’s Paddler Development Week course in September. We’d hoped for a few more clients, but it was really no surprise that most people don’t want to go for a paddle in the winter, and it's maybe just as well.

Since this was an Island Heritage Trust trip, we thought we might visit some IHT islands, starting with Millet. We didn't have much of a plan, but we anticipated stronger afternoon north winds, along with some rain or snow. The wind picked-up as we ate our lunch in the lee of some rocks on Millet, and we decided to head west into the archipelago, hopscotching behind a few islands. We found a pleasant minor swell along Spruce and McGlathery, and played a little in the rocks.

 
It was a quiet day: no lobster boats, rafts of ducks squawking like horns of distant traffic... and us, just meandering along. We passed more IHT islands: Round and Wreck, but we kept moving. I think everyone figured-out that you get cold when you stop.  But by the time we made it to Little Camp Island, it was time for another break: hot tea, chocolate, PB&J- it all helps keep you going. Plus, it's not far to the top of the small island: a bargain view, just as it began to snow.

By then, we were on our way home, and the snow felt like a bonus; you go paddling in the winter, you ought to get some snow- right? And it makes us feel rugged to squint our eyes and paddle into the teeth of the storm.