June

Zone Forecast: Intra Coastal Waters from Schoodic Point ME to Stonington ME. This Afternoon...W winds 5 to 10 kt. Seas 1 to 2 ft. Scattered showers with isolated tstms.

From my desk in the gallery, I can watch the clouds scooting across the sky and glimpse a sliver of deep blue sea. This slice of ocean view just happens to contain Little George Head Island... that little hump of rock and spruce barred to George Head proper- the island silhouetted by the sunset if you’re camping on Steves Island. In the gallery bathroom, the charts of Penobscot Bay provide me with an occasional flight of fantasy, imagining trips that I can’t do any time soon. Still, I stare at the chart. I focus on a spot and remember what it’s like, imagine it right this very minute. You can’t be two places at once, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.

As the evenings grew longer, I squeezed in a few after-work paddles. One evening I headed west, arcing along the edge of Penobscot Bay: Scraggy and Sparrow Islands over to Ram and Hardwood. Another I headed east, out around Spruce and Millet, but often enough I just point straight-out with hardly a thought to destinations. Inevitably I end-up passing among favorite haunts- Steves, McGlathery, maybe swing past Hells Half Acre to check-out the schooners anchored there. 

One rare afternoon, Rebecca and I took a leisurely paddle and hung-out on the beach at Enchanted. That probably won’t happen again for awhile. We’re getting busy, the calendar getting filled. When I’m not here in the gallery, odds are I’m teaching or guiding, which has been good. But I also have a strong urge to be selfish with my time on the water- actually, my time in general. I really don’t want to make evening plans- what if it’s a perfect paddling evening, and I’m stuck volunteering or chit-chatting with someone. The days are already getting shorter. Once they’re gone, you don’t get them back.

Which is why, in idle moments at work, I impulsively check my sea kayaking blog, as if maybe there’s another version of myself out there. Or I can check-in with some of the other sea kayaking blogs. Car-topped kayaks pass by on Main Street, and occasionally I chat with a visiting sea kayaker. There’s no news. It’s all been done before, but I think we like to savor the experience any way we can. 

Spruce Island, Hatch Cove

Air temp: mid-twenties, water still in the upper thirties, and the sun is nowhere to be seen. By most accounts, it looks like a gloomy, mid-winter day, but the fact that we’re out paddling takes away the gloom. It feels good to get out. We take a familiar route out around Spruce Island on very calm water, pausing, of course, to glide through the granite gateway just off Buckle Island



Back in at the launch by dusk, we don our thick neoprene Ninja masks, just to see how the the water feels. Cold on the face, but otherwise, not bad. I’m wearing two base layers, a fleece and a wool sweater beneath the drysuit.


It’s good to try out this stuff close to the launch. I discover that my Folbot needs some additional outfitting to really be safe out there. Nate, a glutton for the cold, rolls again and again



One trip I’ve held in reserve for a windy day “outside” is the trip around Whitmore Neck (Oceanville) which is actually an island connected to Deer Isle by a bridge spanning Hatch Cove. Oddly, the only time I’ve attempted this trip is in January, when not only do you have to get through Hatch Cove at high tide, but you can only hope that the ice won’t be too thick.



Rebecca and I get there a little after high tide, surprised at the current running beneath the bridge. Ahead, our way is blocked by a large patch of ice. It looks solid, but today I'm paddling my ice-breaking kayak, so I plunge-in, clearing a path. This is actually weirdly fun- something I have to do at least once every winter.



Ice paddling is time-consuming though, and hard work. So we don't have time to get around Whitmore Neck. It's good to have a few routes that remain elusive.