And with temperatures in Grand Canyon rising to unbearable, it was time to board a flying torture chamber and head for Maine.
Good morning Boston in the fog.
A swing by Geno Mondello’s Dory Shop in Gloucester, but he wasn’t in this rainy morning.
A visit to Lowell’s Boat Shop in Amesbury, birthplace of the Banks Dory. They are so cute when they’re little.
And on to WoodenBoat School in Maine, where I set up my lovely new home–a Bangladesh-built tent with a doghouse attached.
A visit to the tool shops on Saturday. I finally got to meet Skip Brack, the man who built the Liberty Tool/Captain Tinkham’s/ Hulls Cove Tool Barn complex of old tool emporiums. What a cool dude.
I took a class in rigging–knottery, splicing and allied skills. Here is a double-braid rope splice in progress.
Some homemade rope and a few more splices.
Sunset at Naskeag Point. Always a crowd pleaser.
Janek flew in and we taught a one-week course in oarmaking. A few of the fellows were a bit overwhelmed at the amount of labor involved, but we made it by Friday evening.
Then I went visiting. Here are my old pals Lora and Ruby. Ruby turned nine years old this month and appears to have achieved perfect stasis with the environment in her seashore outhaul we built about five years ago. She leaks a wee bit for a day of so upon launching, then goes dry. And she looks increasingly ageless.
Next I went up to visit Ned, Lora’s builder friend who remodeled her barn into a beautiful home last year. Ned’s shop makes Fretwater Boatworks look like a Fischer-Price kid’s toy. We went out sailing with his gal friend Miles.
Then over into New Brunswick to visit Harry and Martha Bryan again. Their hideaway is beyond magical. Here’s Harry’s boathouse. At high tide he can just about winch a boat straight into the building. At low tide the ocean is twenty-five vertical feet lower and about a quarter mile away.
I headed back down to Camden for my next adventure. Sam and Susan Manning’s wonderful old dory is still afloat there, though it doesn’t get out much anymore.
Susan’s rowing station where she rows against a single thole pin, never missing a stroke. She’s just about rowed her way through to the gunwale.
Sam’s custom sculling slot in the transom, with which he can scull forward, backward, or around in circles.
The month in Maine wound up with a week on the Mary Day, a great two-masted schooner boasting over 5000 square feet of sail.
Foresail, staysail, Jib, and Top jib all flying. so beautiful.
It was wonderful to look out and see other ships of this archaic style sailing along with us. Kinda like the olden days.
Hoisting the foresail.
Navigation class with my dear friend Jane.
Dr. John, Captain Barry and Bill.
We bought seventy pounds of lobster for dinner one night. One of them was the unusual blue variant.
But they all turn orange when you cook them. Barry puts on a mean feed. Somewhere out there in the fog beyond the Mary Day is WoodenBoat School.
Heading back to the mother ship after dinner on the beach.
Helmsman in training. It’s pretty fun to drive these rigs.
For my belated birthday Jane arranged to let me take Mary Day beneath the Deer Isle Bridge. It stands 85 feet above high tide. So we lowered the topmasts to 85 feet. Should be fine, right? Barry tells me not to miss the middle.
Turks Head bracelet class.
And my first ever fogbow.
John at the helm with Jane standing watch.
A vertical panorama with all seven sails.
After a week we docked back in Camden. Then it was back in the rental car. Back to Boston. Back to Flagstaff. And a one-day turn-around to a motor trip through Grand Canyon. My head is still spinning a bit.
A wee waterfall on day one.
Wake-up call at Upset Rapid