One Week in Maine

Driving home from our week of cruising Penobscot Bay in Maine, we spotted a trailered sailboat with the name “Gratitude” on her stern.  Perry pointed it out, and wondered why we don’t see more boats with that name.

It is an appropriate name, for sure, and exactly how I felt after spending seven days with my husband and two teenagers on a 36′ Grand Banks Trawler.  We got off to a rocky start in Boothbay Harbor: My husband and I were in separate capsized-dinghy incidents late last Saturday night, resulting in soggy blue blazers and a wallet and car keys at the bottom of the sea.  But things got exponentially better from there on.

It feels like time has stood still in Maine (with the exception of the availability of wireless and cell phone service.)  I grew up going south, and had never read “One Morning in Maine” or “Blueberries for Sal.” I was amazed at the beauty, the simplicity, the kindness of the people we met.  The sunsets were awe inspiring; the stars magnificent, the coastline almost overwhelming in its stark beauty.  I think half the reason folks like cruising in Maine is saying the names of the destinations:  Woodenboat, Buck’s Harbor, Eggemogin Reach.

We played cards, and Scrabble; we read and swam and ate aboard and ashore. We ran the races for the Eastern Yacht Club Cruise and fired the cannon a lot!  We made new friends and better friends.  We enjoyed precious time together, with few electronic diversions or external pressures.  And I feel enormous gratitude.

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