Roger Long wrote:
"Gordon" wrote

Strange reply. San Juan's, Gulf islands and inside passage are
generally considered, along with the south pacific, to be some of the
finest cruising in the world.

I lived there for a year in the early 70's and I would say that it is
equal to or better than Maine for scenery. What it doesn't have, unless
the weather patterns have changed, is wind. That brisk southwester
that comes up most summer afternoons in Maine is one of the things that
makes it a sailor's paradise.

--
Roger Long


Plenty of westerlies in the straits but not much in the islands.
Gordon

"Ansley W. Sawyer" wrote in message
...
Many people think that sailing on the coast of Maine is challenging. The
combination of challenges that confront the sailors in this part of the
world appear daunting to folks who normally sail in kinder and gentler
waters. Large tides with attendant tidal currents along the Maine coast
make some folks nervous. Numerous lobster trap buoys waiting to catch your
rudder, propeller, and keel are intimidating. Impenetrable fog and
unforgiving rocky shores are enough to give southern sailors nightmares. I
am here to tell you that you have nothing to fear and that all of these
conditions were put here for a reason and that you should consider them
all to be personal gifts.



You can enjoy yourself in Maine knowing that there are large tides with
currents that can reach four or more knots in some places. If you are used
to sailing in places with tide heights of a foot or two, our tides of nine
to twenty-four feet should fill you with feelings of reassurance. You can
be assured that should you run aground at low tide that you will float
free sometime tomorrow and if you run aground at high water you will have
plenty of time to scrub and paint your bottom while you wait for the water
to come back. Those of us who are used to the tides of Maine can not
understand how folks who sail in areas that have small tides ever get
their bottoms cleaned or for that matter how they get themselves off when
they inevitably run aground.



The tidal currents are a gift for those of us who only travel at four to
six knots but are always in a hurry. On a recent trip to Eastport for the
fourth of July, Pacem was traveling up the Grand Manan channel, around the
end of Campobello Island and down the Head Harbor passage doing ten knots.
The incoming tidal current for the area's twenty-four foot tides sped us
along at such a speed that I would have been scared if it were not for the
fog that kept me from seeing more that a hundred yards.



As I have told our crew, Ben and Brad ages 13 and 11, fog is like
nighttime at home. You know that if you get up in the middle of the night
and walk around the house without turning on the lights that everything is
just the same as it was when there is light. So sailing in the fog is the
just the same as sailing in the bright sunshine but you do not have to be
distracted by the sights of islands with summer houses the size of
castles, mountains with views over the sea, wildlife, and schooners with
sails filled bearing down on you. It frees you to be more introspective
and to pay attention to the numerous navigational aids that the friendly
people of Maine put out in the water for you.



The United States Coast Guard does a wonderful job of marking the major
hazards to navigation on the coast but with a decrease in available
funding the job of indicating the flow of currents has fallen to
volunteers. The lobstermen of Maine spend their lives putting little
colored buoys in every conceivable place along the coast of Maine. They
help us figure out the exact set and drift of the current by placing these
beautiful little buoys in the navigable channels. The density of the buoys
seems to be related to the amount of waterborne traffic expected in the
area. The Penobscot Bay area has so many buoys that it seems that one
could walk across some channels without getting wet. In some places from
Muscongus Bay north, they even put on small additional buoys or toggles
before the main colored buoy to help us determine the current by catching
the horizontal line between the two buoys on our propeller or rudder.
Though most of our boats mount anchors on the forward or pointy end of the
vessel, these numerous lines help us practice the age-old technique of
anchoring by the rudder. We should all thank these selfless volunteers and
also try to support them by encouraging everyone we know to buy the
critters that they catch when they are moving the navigational markers
around our rocky coast.



The rocky shores of Maine are a great improvement over the sandy shores
that cover some of the rest of the planet. The sand that one brings aboard
from beaches gets into your bunk and your bilge and is impossible to get
out of either one. The rocky shore also tells you when the water is
getting too shallow to float your boat. I have run aground in many parts
of the world and I can tell you from experience that when you run aground
in Maine you will know it immediately. I have run aground in the Bahamas,
Florida, and Nantucket in such soft sand that the boat just slid to a
quiet stop without any notification to the crew. In Maine the notification
of grounding is immediate and usually relatively noisy. The noise of
scraping or fracturing of fiberglass from the forward part of the hull
clearly sends the message that the water has become too thin.



The challenges that people associate with sailing the coast of Maine are
really great gifts to all of us. Think of these gifts as lessons to be
learned and events to be experienced. The coast is a tough teacher who
thinks that you learn better when the lessons are difficult and the
grading is demanding.

I want to assure you of the friendly and benign nature of the coast of
Maine and encourage you to come up and sail with us. In few areas of the
nautical world is the combination of conditions as conducive to relaxation
and carefree cruising as the coast of Maine. Just watch out for the
teacher.



Ansley Sawyer

SV Pacem


==

You left out the "people" of Maine .. in your posting ..



If you consider it a sport to gather your food by drilling through 36 inches
of ice and sitting there all day hoping that the food will swim by, you
might live in Maine.

If you're proud that your region makes the national news 96 nights each year
because Moosehead Lake is the coldest spot in the nation,you might live in
Maine.

If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September through May, you might
live in Maine

If you instinctively walk like a penguin for six months out of the year, you
might live in Maine.

If someone in a store offers you assistance, and they don't work there, you
might live in Maine.

If your dad's suntan stops at a line curving around the middle of his
forehead, you might live in Maine.

If you have worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you might live in
Maine.

If your town has an equal number of bars and churches, you might live in
Maine.

If you have had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed a
wrong number, you might live in Maine.


YOU KNOW YOU ARE A TRUE MAINER WHEN:

1. "Vacation" means going South past Augusta for the weekend.

2. You measure distance in hours.

3. You know several people who have hit a deer more than once.

4. You often switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day and back again.

5. You can drive 65 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard,
without flinching.

6. You see people wearing camouflage at social events (including weddings).

7. You install security lights on your house and garage and leave both
unlocked.

8. You carry jumper cables in your car and your girlfriend / wife knows how
to use them.

9. You design your kid's Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

10. Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with
snow.

11. You know all 4 seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter and road
construction.

12. You can identify a southern or eastern accent.

13. Your idea of creative landscaping is a statue of a deer next to your
blue spruce.

14. You were unaware that there is a legal drinking age.

15. Down South to you means Augusta.

16. A brat is something you eat.

17. Your neighbor throws a party to celebrate his new shed.

18. You go out to fish fry every Friday.

19. Your 4th of July picnic was moved indoors due to frost.

20. You have more miles on your snow blower than your car.

21. You find 0 degrees "a little chilly."

22. You actually understand these jokes, and you tell them to all your
Maine friends.


What did the girl from Maine say right before she lost her virginity?
Careful Daddy, you're crushing my cigarettes.

Q: What do you call 32 people sitting at a bar in Berwick?
A: A full set of teeth.


Didja know the toothbrush was invented in ME?
Otherwise it woulda been called a teethbrush.

Ansley W. Sawyer wrote:
our tides of nine
to twenty-four feet should fill you with feelings of reassurance.

I sailed out of ME. Where are the tides 24 feet?

Way down east the tides are higher:

05 Jun 2008 @ 07:39 D.S.T.
Station = EASTPORT
44º 54.2' N 066º 59.1' W

High at 00:06 = 21.8 Low at 06:42 = -02.4
High at 12:42 = 19.9 Low at 19:00 = -00.5

Ansley Sawyer
SV Pacem

Ansley W. Sawyer wrote:
Way down east the tides are higher:

05 Jun 2008 @ 07:39 D.S.T.
Station = EASTPORT
44º 54.2' N 066º 59.1' W

High at 00:06 = 21.8 Low at 06:42 = -02.4
High at 12:42 = 19.9 Low at 19:00 = -00.5


There are certainly extreme tides when you get up towards the Bay of
Fundy, and Eastport is a bit special being "around the corner."
However, 15 miles SW the tides are a more manageable 15 feet at Cutler,
and diminish to around 13 by Jonesport. I don't often get past
Schoodic, so I hardly ever see tides more than a couple of feet worse
than Boston.

But this brings up a question: its often claimed that the downeast
lobster traps require the dreaded toggle because of the extreme tides.
And yet, they are no more extreme all the way back to Cape Cod.
Plymouth, for instance, has higher tides than Tenant's Harbor, but you
don't see a toggle west of Booth Bay, while by Tenant's they're all
toggled. What gives?