In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch VII

Here’s the ketch Angelique as Monday’s dawn light arrives in Great Cove:

This was the fourth time this month that Angelique overnighted in Great Cove and sent her passengers for a tour of the famed WoodenBoat School there. The passengers rowed one of the ship’s longboats ashore and back to the vessel. Members of the School’s classes on kayaking and basic sailing extended a welcome.

The WBS 12 1/2-foot Havens and Herreshoffs sailed around Angelique while she was in the Cove, giving viewers an idea of the windjammer’ size. The disparity would have been greater if the windjammer had raised her sails, but she departed before noon without putting up an inch of her beautiful sails.

As you probably know by this time, “Angelique” is a 130-foot jammer out of Camden, Maine. What you may not know is how she got her name. My favorite story is that she was named after a beautiful Parisian temptress whom her original owner became obsessed with after meeting the woman only one delightful night.

However, as usual, the truth is much more mundane. She was named by her original owner, alright, but he named her after a type of wood that fascinated him. Yes, wood. That’s WOOD as in tree; as in Dicorynia guianensis, to be scientifically specific. It’s a tall hardwood with the common name Angeligue and a beautiful grain.

The tree reportedly only occurs in French Guiana and Suriname. Some of its wood was impaneled below decks on the vessel. At least that’s the published story of “Angelique’s” original owner.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 24, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Trap Time

Our working harbor at Naskeag Point has been busy lately with lobster boats loading up traps and taking off to set them in nearby state waters for the summer season. Here you see “Dream On” being loaded with traps yesterday.

The traps are trailered down to the Town Dock, where they’re usually hand-loaded onto the fishing vessel. That’s not as easy as some fishermen make it look, especially when they don’t have a helper. Lobster traps are awkward and heavy. They typically are between 3 and 4 feet long and 40 to 60 pounds heavy, according one fishing gear report.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 25, 2024.

In the Right Place: The Joy of Sailing

Great Cove is the way it should be in summertime: 12 ½- foot Herreshoffs and Havens dashing here and there on the breezes like water bugs. They’re in the hands of mostly novice students who are attending a class called Elements of Sailing I at the WoodenBoat School.

The class should be called The Joy of Sailing I. What could be a better subject to learn by doing than sailing? Where else would be better to do it than the famed sailing waters of Down East Maine? Lucky students.

Yesterday, as you see, heavy heat haze and occasional cloud shade sometimes painted the Cove scene in dramatic, moisture-laden light that turned long distance (500mm) images into watercolor studies.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 24, 2024.) See also the image in the first Comment space.

In the Right Place: Inconvenient Facts Department

Here you see what is a luxury summer resort for some. Oh, it’s not in Bali, Bora Bora, or the Maldives, and guests don’t get massages here or sip piña coladas while discussing gold futures.

But it is here that some of the most well-off painted turtles appear every year to loll about in the sun and sample the latest insect hors-d’oeuvres:

Lamentably, painted turtles and people tourists share a significant danger: the effects of higher temperatures brought about by climate change. You probably know about the people’s problems, but I wonder if you’re aware of the turtles’ special problem.

The sex of painted turtles (and some other reptiles) is determined by the temperature of their eggs before they hatch. The warmer the PT egg nest, the greater the number of eggs that will grow into females. Researchers at Iowa State University have done tests that indicate that, if the present rising temperatures continue as predicted, we’ll soon likely come to a tipping point at which all painted turtle eggs naturally must become female or fail to hatch.

That would mean extinction unless there is human intervention or a miracle. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 11, 2024.)

In the Right Place: O’ Nest Report VIII

There was joy this week at the Osprey Nest, the summer home of our local fish hawk couple, Ozzie and Harriet. The joy was mostly mine: It is now certain that our feathered neighbors have once again produced those red-eyed, big-beaked, reptilian-ugly creatures known as osprey nestlings. Yet, these little monsters are beauties-to-be.

Above you see the two chicks that I’ve seen so far. Judging from Harriet’s behavior, there may be one or two more chicks hidden in the nest hollow. Of course, there will be no milk and pablum for these babies; as with all raptors, they’ll eat bloody prey from the get-go.

In this case, Ozzie will dive under the waters of Great Cove; grasp an unsuspecting fish in his sharp talons; swim up to the surface and fly away to a nearby tree or rock; tear off pieces of the fish’s head and gulp them down with gusto, then home-deliver the bleeding torso for a nice home meal by the family. Usually, Harriet will eat first, then carefully feed the chicks small pieces. (Ospreys have a limited sense of paternal generosity.)

Per our Report Protocol (and O&H sitcom history), nestling sexes will be assumed and the first-born (largest) chick will be named David, while the second-born will be named Ricky. If there is a third nestling, she will be named June due to the month of her birth. If there is a fourth nestling, it will be named Quartus, the Latin baby name meaning “fourth born.” (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 19 and 21, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch VI

A quartet of Maine windjammers overnighted in Great Cove on Wednesday. They departed in Thursday’s intense hazy heat during a wind doldrum that thwarted their major reason for being.   But, judging from the apparently happy passengers, it was cooler on board the vessels than ashore, where the reported high in Brooklin was a steamy 91 degrees. The four high-masted visitors were “Angelique” (third June visit), “Ladona,” “Mary Day,” and “Stephen Taber” (second June visit).

The visits started Wednesday evening (also hot and hazy), with “Angelique” mooring first and the “Taber” coming in from the south shortly afterward:

The other two vessels apparently came in from the north and moored where we usually can’t see them from our deck. Only "Angelique” was visible to us as dawn’s first light came into the Cove:

“Angelique” is a 130-foot gaff-rigged ketch out of Camden, Maine, that was launched in 1980. She never raised a sail on this torpid day and was the first to motor away:

“Ladona” (usually pronounced locally as “lah-DOE-nah”) is a 105-foot schooner out of Rockland, Maine, that was launched in 1922 as a racing yacht . She went through various interesting lives before being restored as a coastal cruiser. On Wednesday evening, she rafted up with the “Taber” for some partying and sailed off under power Thursday, using her mainsail as a stabilizer :

As usual, the stately and graceful “Mary Day,” a frequent visitor to the Cove, received plenty of attention . She’s a 125-foot schooner out of Camden, Maine, that has classic mercantile coastal cruiser lines, but was built in 1962 just for passenger cruises:

“Mary” motored several hundred feet to Babson Island, where she raised her mainsails for stabilization and hosted a beach luncheon that lasted hours:

Although “Stephen Taber” hooked up with the racy “Ladona,” the “Taber” is one of the oldest windjammers in the Maine fleet. The vessel is a 110-foot schooner out of Rockland, Maine, that was launched in 1871. She doesn’t have a motor and was pushed out of the airless Cove by her trusty yawl boat, “Babe”:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 20, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Magic

Here are the June images of one of the local landmarks that I keep photographic tabs on. It’s the iconic red boathouse in Conary Cove on one of those magical summer mornings when everything stands still as the early light releases them from dusk.

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on June 18, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch V

We awakened Tuesday morning to see that the “Capt. Frank Swift” apparently had spent the prior night in Great Cove. I only had time to take a few images of this compact coastal cruiser at her anchorage. (See also the image in the first Comment space.) As best I can tell, she’s the former brigantine “Actress” that was out of Belfast, Maine.

The “Swift” is a 75-foot vessel that is now apparently out of Camden, Maine. She originally was designed by famed naval architect Murry Peterson in 1937, but not built until 1983. In recent years, this cruiser was rigged as a brigantine with schooner-proportioned masts, but now she appears to be rigged as a traditional schooner.

(A brigantine is a two-masted vessel carrying square-rigged sails on spars on the foremast and gaff-rigged, triangulated sails on the second mast. Many call a schooner-proportioned ship rigged like that a “hermaphrodite brigantine” due to the combination of key components.)

Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 18, 2024.

In the Right Place: A Piece of Work

We see a lot of good craftsmanship in Great Cove during the summer. If this canoe is hand-made, as it appears to be, it’s quite a piece of work

If that vessel was hand-made, as it appears to be, it’s quite a piece of work. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 16 and 19, 2024.)

In the Right Place: O’ Nest Report VII

I got lucky yesterday at the Osprey Nest, the summer home of our local fish hawk couple, Ozzie and Harriet. It was a chilly, gray day for photography, but an illuminating one for biologic verification: There now is no doubt in my mind that Harriet is brooding youngsters, probably three or four, even though I have not seen one yet.

Harriet has all the moves of a sheltering mother – outspread wings to protect nestlings below; sometimes (as above) quickly raising her wings due to apparent movement under her; sometimes leaving the nest for a few minutes of wing-stretching, and being careful when she returns, and – yesterday – appearing to be delicately feeding bits of fresh fish to youngsters deep in the nest.

Of course, Ozzie reliably delivers the fish daily, usually after eating the first third for his own lunch. Harriet then usually eats her fill and then feeds the youngsters.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 17, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Summer Fashions

The sleek reddish summer coats of many of our younger white-tailed deer are virtually all in, replacing their heavy, brown-gray winter jackets. On some deer, such as this young doe, you still can see slight variations in color that soon will disappear.

On the other hand, the coats of many of the does that recently have given birth still are in transition and a little shaggy:

Motherhood can trump beauty, at least temporarily. Nonetheless, all the fawns that I’ve seen so far have had healthy, glossy coats. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 14 and 10, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Viewpoints

The eastward view of “cloud alley” from Amen Ridge was spectacular yesterday, as you see here. The mountains on Mount Desert Island and the waters of Blue and Jericho Bays were again producing their own special weather, while crowds of lupines seemed to be pressing to watch the show.

The westward view on the ridge is not too shabby either, especially if you like barns that are bright red on the outside and upholstered on the inside:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, On June 15 and 10, 2024.

In the Right Place: Happy Fathers’ Day

Here’s to the Dads, Granddads, Great Granddads, and any others who have expressed fatherly love.

(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 10, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch IV

“Angelique” arrived in fog Wednesday evening for her second overnight visit to Great Cove this month.

The next morning, the dawn light found her early and started burning off the fog, apparently before her passengers arose.

She was anchored off Little Babson Island, which was fogged in at dawn, but appeared in full sunlight by 9 a.m. (That shed on the island reportedly is a terminus for a power cable from the mainland.)

As lunchtime neared, “Angelique” weighed anchor and moved about 200 yards south in front of the lovely beach on Babson (aka Big Babson) Island. The passengers were given an opportunity to explore the island, take a swim, and (apparently) have a delicious lunch on the beach. By about 2 p.m., she was gone; I never saw her depart.

“Angelique” is a 130-foot ketch out of Camden that was built for tourism in 1980. She’s still on this six-night cruise that was scheduled to feature a “windjammer gam,” in which multiple windjammers tie up in a raft to provide passengers an opportunity to walk from boat to boat, sample food and drink, and listen to live music. (For wordsmiths: Originally, the term “gam” meant a pod of whales, but whaling crews adopted it to describe social visits when one whaler met another at sea. Now it’s applied broadly to vessel raftings.)

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 12 and 13, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Hidden Miracles

This image of a broad-winged hawk nestling accompanies my monthly column in the current Ellsworth American. 

To read the column about the month of June being baby bird time in Maine and how to properly find and observe birthing nests, click here: https://www.5backroad.com/montly-column

Windjammer Watch III

Here you see the Schooner American Eagle in Great Cove yesterday morning with her sails down, her weather tarp up, and her passengers ashore exploring the WoodenBoat School Campus on a fine sunny day:

Soon the passengers descended the WoodenBoat pier and rowed themselves back to the Eagle, two boatfulls of them:

Almost as soon as the Eagle’s passengers re-boarded her, a massive rogue fog wave lurched in from the southwest and engulfed everything before it, including the schooner and her passengers. Sometimes, a little sunlight was able to leak into the fog; sometimes a swirl of air would reveal parts of the schooner.

Nonetheless, the Eagle had a schedule to keep. Her crew and passengers raised her mainsail and foresail in the fog, sometimes disappearing from view from the shore:

Then, she sounded her fog horn and headed off into Eggemoggin Reach, disappearing and reappearing as the sun slipped through gaps in the fog. For awhile during her departure, the only trace of her was the sound of her fog horn every few minutes. Then, nothing but silence and shifting fog.

The Eagle is a 90-foot, high-riding schooner out of Rockland, Maine. She was launched in 1930 as the Andrew & Rosalie, the last fishing schooner built in Gloucester, Massachusetts. In 1941, during World War II, she was renamed American Eagle. She fished until 1983 and then went through difficult times until she was totally renovated in 1986 as a tourist schooner. She has since become a National Historic Landmark.

As she was departing Great Cove yesterday, the Eagle passed behind another historic vessel, the 20-foot pocket cruiser Martha, once owned by New York- and Brooklin-based author E.B. White:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 12, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Flashing Yellow Caution

This and other yellow flag iris plants (Iris pseudacorus) have started their short blooming period here in our damper areas. They’re reportedly the only completely yellow, large wild iris now growing naturally in North America.

They’re not native to North America; they’re the progeny of garden escapees that are not on anyone’s Most Wanted List. They’ve naturalized themselves into perennial wildflowers that are spreading rapidly in Maine and elsewhere, according to the reports. That’s not good; these handsome little devils are extremely invasive.

The Maine Department of Agriculture, Conservation & Forestry states that they may be controlled with chemicals or by digging them up (wear gloves to protect against their sharp leaves). It’s best to bag and dispose of them with the garbage. Note, however, that special rules apply to using herbicides to control plants in or near wetlands and water bodies in Maine. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 10, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch II

Here you see the schooner “Stephen Taber” in Great Cove near sundown on Sunday. She overnighted and departed early yesterday in still air. Her schedule indicates that she is on a five-night trip that features live band music.

She has no motor, so her yawlboat was attached to the stern as an outboard motor and she left the Cove with her mainsail up to increase steering stability.

The 110-foot “Taber” was built in 1871 and is a National Historic Landmark that hails from Rockland, Maine. Curiously, she was named after a once-famed, but now forgotten,19th Century New York politician. As with many coastal cargo cruisers in the 1800s, the “Taber” was built with a flat bottom to “ground out” and discharge her cargo without the need for a pier. She has a centerboard to lower as a keel during cruising. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 10 and 11, 2024.)

In the Right Place: A Cautionary Tale

Here you see high tide at the mouth of Patten Stream in the rain on Saturday. However, while editing this image, I discovered that I apparently had photographed a very rare species – the illusive Maine Alligator. (Let your imagination off its leash, look closely, and see if you can find it.)

Well …. Maybe I at least captured what I aimed at: apparent examples of common orange lichen (Xanthoria parietina) growing along the rocky shoreline. The growth also is known as maritime sunburst lichen. It often grows on walls, hence it has the scientific epithet “parietina,” which means “on walls.” This lichen was chosen as a model organism for genomic sequencing.

(Image taken in Surry, Maine, on June 8, 2024.)

In the Right Place: The Year of the Blues

It’s been a very good year for Blue Flag Iris (Iris versicolor), such as this one and those in its colony:

It’s also been a good year for versicolor’s wild and wiry cousin, Slender Blue Flag (Iris prismatica), shown below,. Perhaps the abundance of these wild beauties is a result of our very wet spring.

The distribution of the slim cousin (prismatica) in Maine is described online by our Department of Agriculture, Conservation & Forestry as follows: “This rare plant has been documented from a total of 6 town(s) in the following county(ies): Sagadahoc, York.” I”ll have to report that slim usually is an annual sight here in Hancock County, if I can figure out how you make such reports.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 4 (versicolor) and 6 (prismatica), 2024.)