After the short run through the Annisquam, which amounted to mostly what was a rest day, we were back to it early the next morning with a 6:30am departure. Mug of coffee in hand, I sailed into Ipswitch Bay with the early morning breeze skipping along at over 5 kts. Ipswitch Bay was a contrast to anywhere I had sailed before, with the marshy shores that lined the coast feeding countless tidal estuaries. I was hopeful to see some wildlife during the day. It was a quiet day on the water, the wind died a bit and I had to turn on the motor to keep up the 5 kt average on this long day. On short days, I'm happy to move along at 3.5 kts for a while, but when it's a 44 mile day, that average is an important number.
I travelled past the Portsmouth, NH shipping lanes, and then the Isles of Shoals, leaving Smuttynose Island on my port side. About 6 hours in I shut the motor down off of Boon Island, and it's lighthouse. I climbed into the cockpit locker and checked the oil, it had again burned through about a quart. Some might think this alarming, but I was relieved to find that the pattern of oil burning was consistent and I just had to check it every six hours of run time. Perhaps it would take a little more time for the Marvel oil to work its magic. Diesel engines on a boat work hard, much harder than an engine in a car. With your car you get on and off the pedal, sometimes you coast down hills, and other times you just idle in park. On a boat, the engine reaches a certain RPM, and then generally works at that RPM the entire time it's running. These heavy duty diesels are meant for this type of work, and actually like to run. If you don't get onto your boat as often as you like, you should start your engine every 10 days or so, and let it come up to operating temperature to lubricate all of the internal parts.
I had about 3 hours to go now, and the constant dodging of lobster traps signaled that I was nearing my destination of Cape Porpoise. The ocean was so clear in this stretch of water, and I spotted what I think was a large grouper just off the rail swimming by me. A little while later as if to welcome me in, a group of porpoises swam by rhythmically shooting sea water into the air.
I pulled into Cape Porpoise and through the many lobster boats that line this working harbor. I was pretty tired, but ecstatic that I had made it into Maine. I unloaded the dinghy and motored into the landing. The motor on the dingy had been running funny and I had to run it with the choke on to keep it from stalling. Hopefully it was just some bad fuel.
I cleared a little room on the packed dinghy dock and went in to grab some food at the clam shack on the wharf. I hadn't eaten since before 6am and I was ravenously hungry. I smiled at the lady behind the counter and said "could I get some chowder and clam cakes?" She smiled, and said "excuse me?" I again repeated in my quick southeastern New England way "could I get some chowder and clam cakes?" She said "Oh! C-h-o-w-d-e-r a-n-d c-l-a-m-c-a-k-e-s" in a slow Maine drawl. I laughed as I realized that I had managed after all these years to turn "chowder and clamcakes" into almost a single syllable. My mind was then completely blown when she asked "how many clamcakes do you want?" I didn't know they come as a single cake, the size of a small pancake.
After I ate I wandered around to the store up the street, picked up a few things, and then went back for a nap. The fog was beginning to roll in, and the drone of the horn and the waves crashing served as the perfect background noise. Tomorrow I would get up early to explore the town, and neighboring Kennebunkport.
Goat Island Lighthouse, just after a shower.
The dinghy dock in Cape Popoise.