In early August we departed for Maine once again–Cricket and Glade by car and trailer, Brad by train.

I left Flagstaff around four in the morning on the Southwest Chief.

The view from the observation car.

Sunset near Trinidad.

During my layover in Chicago I took the architecture boat tour. Mind boggling to see the heartland of skyscrapers.

Back to the train. The Lake Shore Limited is not nearly as nice as the Southwest Chief. No observation car, prefab food, tighter seating. We spent a great deal of time sidetracked, waiting for freight trains to pass.

But between Schenectady and Albany the engineer must have needed to vent a little frustration and put the hammer down. I wondered how fast we were going, so pulled out my GPS.

Oh my. I’m not sure that’s even legal.

From Boston I took a midnight Über to New Hampshire and rendezovoused with Cricket and Glade. Then on to Maine where we had a welcome back oyster party with an old friend. So slurpable.

Once we arrived at WoodenBoat School, Cricket and Glade set up to teach a six-day course building two McKenziacs. Meanwhile, I did day trips sailing to islands for a couple weeks. Here’s Andy teaching us how things work.

Lunch on Little Sheep. Maine’s answer to the Caribbean.

My morning routine was to go make a pot of coffee in Cricket and Glade’s classroom, sit down, and wait for the world to wake up. This photo tells the story of a morning when things went awry. Damn that gravity.

Bear Island for lunch.

Marc checking the sails.

We were not blessed with consistant winds. This day we rowed to lunch.

Back in the boatshop Cricket and Glade threw an after hours music and painting party.

Day six, two new McKenziacs were born and launched.

One McKenziac went home with a student. The other orphan went up for sale. We raised the price $1000 a day, but still no one bit. So we’re taking her home to join our teaching fleet.

Reflections in the boathouse window.

Music around the hollow log fire.

The following week Cricket and Glade taught an open Chub course. Here’s the night five painting party. Her name is Allagash.

Out to launch. Not recommended for extensive highway travel.

WoodenBoat must pay extra for such good sunsets.

For our third week we signed up for an expedition out into the islands. A foggy departure morning.

Annie, our leader, demystifying fogbound navigation.

Cricket and Glade up front searching for landmarks.

Our first night at Tinker Island we were gifted a visit by a humpback whale. Wow.

And another sunset.

Annie and Renee making sweet music.

On Sheep Island I found a driftwood palette and some old lobster rope and made a kitchen.

Cricket teaching Renee the mystical arts of the dutch oven.

Moonrise.

Petrel, a Crotch Island Pinky, is a fine boat for such adventures.

Moonrise from Hog Island on our third night out.

On our last day a couple big girls came into port. Here’s Heritage.

And Angelique under full sail.

Cricket and Glade leading the way.

Loading up for the long drive home.

Cricket and Glade headed west and I wandered up to New Brunswick to visit friends Harry and Martha. Morning coffee and afternoon home brew were by the trusty Glenwood. (The stove is in this month’s WoodenBoat Magazine, showcasing her beauty.)

Harry and I went out for a spin around the bay in his new electric cruiser. The only sound is that of the water–it’s like sailing but without those pesky ropes and sails.

Sunset from the kitchen. With a tide of up to 26 feet, you never know what you’re going to see out there.

But at last I had to go home. My flight from Bangor to Charlotte was diverted around this storm system. We were at 34,000 feet and those puffers were WAY above us.

All told, given the choice between cars, trains, planes, and boats, I’ll choose boats every time. I like boats.