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Skip report; go straight to slideshow HERE Why I thought this trip would be the completion of my bucket list I’ll never know; perhaps I’ll get out a new bucket and start filling in the gaps of the Maine coast I haven’t paddled. This brainchild was hatched a year or more ago, and, from the start, included (newly-named) Bearded Socialite, a proven steady companion on previous treks. We were pleased to be joined late by Paul, who was able to squeeze time from work and family. I had worked out a scheme allowing us to do a one-way trip from Milbridge to Machias at a leisurely pace, relying on West Bus Service http://westbusservice.com/#SCHEDULE%20OF%20SERVICE for transport back to the launch site. Paul and I drove up separately to join Rob and the rest of the MDI party on Friday, for an 8am Saturday start from Bar Harbor to Milbridge. Rob kept tabs on the 3 kayaks while Paul and I drove to Machias to drop off our cars, and secure seats ($14 each-thank you Paul) on the van back to Milbridge, where we were dropped off a stone’s throw from the public ramp. A sunny, calm, warm day had us stripping out of the drysuits at the half-way point, and the easy paddling beckoned us to the longer CCW route around Bois Bubert to the camp site. We spent too much time trying to locate the rather obvious site, and wrote notes to “self” to read the MITA description before landing! A very pleasant site with room to spread out 3 little tents, without crowding. Route for Day 1: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6722011 Day 2 dawned slightly foggy with a 5-10 easterly, our general direction of travel. Off to Jordan’s Delight with its prominent, solitary saltbox perched on the southern high bluff, cozying to its rugged shore, then NE to Shipstern I., aptly named , before making our way towards the Mainland of Cape Split and Moose Neck. We followed the coast to Eastern Harbor, noting the absence of C “1”, before heading to Green I., via Tibbet and Ram. A rocky, choppy (my bad) landing preceded our lunch, warmed by Sol on the rocks. Stevens, our home for 2 nights was nearby, and we made haste to the sandy, welcoming cove to set up camp, cozy little alcoves for all. Route for Day 2: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6722336 A little rain interrupted the night, enough to create a big puddle in my poorly-pitched tarp, and fog was on the menu for an anticipated lengthy day trip to Great Wass. The dauntless 3 Amigos set paddle for Norton and found the middle of it after the 1-mile crossing. We handrailed CW to a westerly cove, then broke for Pomp, given the circumstance, hugging its western shore, before heading for the Beals bridge. We found relief from the 10-15 SW in the lee of Great Wass, and tucked into Sand Cove North for total calm and lunch on the rocks. With the fog disappearing, but the wind steady, we decided to tackle the trip to Sprucehead, and enjoyed a bumpy ride through Mud Hole Channel, splitting Knight and Mistake for a gander at the light. Into Head Harbor, inside Black, Crow Pt., Middle Hardwood and western tip of Head Harbor Island with beam to rear-quartering seas, before retracing our route back home, briefly bedazzled by the close-up display of Bald Eagle following the rules of Mother Nature. Norton and Pomp were slightly barred, and a short portage and rest before the long slog into the last, bumpy crossing to base camp at Stevens. After landing, a paddler slumped over his rear hatch brought concern for a pulled muscle, but max doses of vitamin I, and a few downward dogs, cat-cows, and cobras inside the tent brought partial relief. Route for day 3 http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721770 By morning the worries for the sore paddler had abated, and we broke camp in an unhurried fashion, eyes on our next camp at Halifax. We followed a now-familiar route to the Beals bridge, under calm conditions, then eddy-hopped (bridge abutments) to the northern Jonesport side, to search for water. We chatted up a wharf-mate, who seemed a bit puzzled as to where to find restaurants, groceries, and potable water. We started easterly for the town dock before he hailed us back with welcome advice. The fire station across the road had an outside spigot AND public restroom! Rob and I filled our 3 depleted 6L dromedaries while Paul stayed with the boats at the strategically-placed pocket beach near the bridge. I had hoped to show the buds my grandparents old homestead on the way to Kelly Pt., but my prolonged absence (35 years) boggled my brain to its precise location. We had a nice lunch at Kelly Pt, Rob assembling his PB&J with the still-uncrushed, half-consumed bread loaf. Prominent signage at the shoreside, deserted, apparent park warned us to “not spoil our children’s fun”. We didn’t, and eyed the gentle 2+-mile crossing ahead to the Spruces, entering the southern channel, and passing bleating sheep on Little and a solitary cruiser at anchor near the thoroughfare. Roque Harbor was deserted, and the mile-plus sandy beach was admired from afar, as we paddled to Halifax’s NW cove, countering the fairly strong ebb seaward. A very cozy designated rectangle on the berm was agreed, at length, to be called “home” for at least one night. We would wait until morning to decide if sleeping like the Flinstones (sorta-we had air mattresses) was acceptable for the planned second nite. After setting up camp amid too many mossies, we gathered up provisions for dinner atop the western rise, then bushwhacked up the hillside to the peak, where we enjoyed supper, breathtaking views, including sunset/moonrise, and skeeters (not!). Route for Day 4: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721559 Despite having slept OK, and ignoring warnings about the numerous radiation-emitting military towers and a creepy house, we decided that 2 nights on Cross I. would be favorable, so we meandered off in the general direction of Roque Bluffs State Park. We had expected to see some tall cliffs (why?), but the unimpressive coastline turned our kayaks to another MITA island , and we paddled bee-line under warm, sunny skies and flat seas to its northern cove. Lunch and a stroll around the island through long, then short grasses, had us guessing what the asking price was for this remote paradise. A range of 35K to 1.8M was elicited from the dubious voyagers, knowing that it included these residents: We now had Cross in our sites, 4 miles off, and aimed for big N “2”, passing NE Libbys, arriving at a taste of the “bold coast” along southern Cross, with slots, a sea cave, and precipitous cliff faces. Rob backed his way into the mostly submerged sea cave but didn’t get too far; we would attempt to check it out from land tomorrow. We arrived without fanfare to the old CG station, after passing the remains of the “older” CG building, now a pile of wood scrap near the shore. The old (haunted) house has served as base camp for Outward Bound sea adventures in the past, but we doubted it had seen these visitors over the preceding summer months, judging from the paucity of entries in the indoor log book. We spread out tents in the front field and enjoyed a quiet night under a starry/meteory sky, the red-blinking towers invading the otherwise bliss. Route for Day 5: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721561 Thursday was to be a non-paddling day, we decided, so Rob and I donned our hiking shoes and set off for the famous sea cave. A jog before the privy led us to a boggy trail that brought us to a sandy cove, the dilapidated CG station in the distance. Try as we might to locate the coastal trail (dotted on the map) further along the shore, my bushwack in and out was fruitless, so we regrouped to head back to camp, and lunch. We decided to follow the more prominently-marked (thick dashes) trail leading to the cave, and had better luck, eventually leading to the cave at half-tide, but no entry. Back to camp around 5, salt- and fresh-water showers, critique of my repair kit, supper, and review of Tom Tieman’s 25-page copy of his trek along the Maine Coast, left behind from his trip several days before, as he finished the entire coast by patching in the last bit of Cross-to-Cutler with 3 other paddlers. Route for Day 6: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721563 Another quiet paddling day for Friday, and we got on the water by 8:30 for the tedious slog to Machias, passing the very quiet Naval station shore, a large fish farm, and nondescript islands. I had promised the boys lunch at Helen’s, famous for their award-winning (a generic accolade, employed by any eatery, but well-deserved here) homemade pies. As we approached the ramp, my tired eyes tried to focus on the storefront sign on a building east of the causeway-stripes of orange and green with a central logo shaped like…….No, it couldn’t be. After all we’re now in Machias, Maine. The gal at the Irving station validated my impression, that, yes, that building down the road IS a Pat’s Pizza! I had to renege on my promise to Helen and the guys, but they were very agreeable to lunching at Pat’s, and we devoured most of the food in short order, stopped for take-out pie at Helen’s, then off (Rob and I) to Muscle Ridge for the next adventure! Route for Day 7: http://www.gmap-pedometer.com/?r=6721564 NOTES: Food: oatmeal or granola bars (breakfast); PB&J (lunch); simmered grains/root veggies, box soup, Indian foil meal (supper) Water: 13L over 7 days; re-supply @ Jonesport Fire Department Camp: Hubba, NeoAir (thermarest), 40 degree synthetic

Finally, finally, finally, I got out on a camping trip downeast. Yippee!! I know a guy named Dan Carr who is on the MITA board of directors. He invited me to join him and a friend, Bill Wertz, on a paddle out of Jonesport. I'd already paddled west/south from Jonesport, as had Dan and Bill, so we decided to head east/north this time. We left Jonesport on Sunday AM with the flood tide, crossed over from the mainland into the Rogue Archipelago. The water was flat as a mirror, and you really couldn't tell that there was any current there. It was a bit overcast with some drizzles. That stretch of coast is truly amazing - you have these distant islands, and your whole sense of size and perspective gets messed up. Two mile crossings are pretty much the norm. We worked along the north side of the south islands in the archipelago, stopping at one MITA island for a nice view out to the Brothers, then did a two mile crossing to another, where we camped. We made the hop of 11 NM by noon and just put up our tents and explored. The island had some sheep on it - and the strangest damn thing - we found a string that was leading up into the sky, with nothing evidently attached to it. I hauled in the string for about 10 minutes and finally found a kite emerging from the fog and clouds. Strange. The next day (Monday), we paddled up into Machias Bay and stopped at an island where there are some native american petroglyphs. It was fun hunting them down and trying to figure out what they were. Then we paddled past a large VLF (very low frequency) array for communicating with submarines on the Cutler peninsula, and camped on a MITA island that was home to an Outward Bound outpost. It was a wonderful site, but unfortunately we hit a mosquito hatch. You have to expect such things. In the channel between the island and Cutler Peninsula, there was a reasonably swift current. There was a full moon on Sunday, and the age of the tide was such that the biggest tides were on Tuesday. With the full moon on a perigee, the tides were about 2 feet higher above MHHW and 2 feet lower than MLLW, but still not astronomically large - still big, and big currents. On Tuesday, we did an outer crossing of Machias Bay, going from Cross Island - we used the Libby Islands as an intermediate point. We were trying to time it so that we missed the bulk of the ebb tide. As we approached Libby, however, the wind picked up - gusts maybe to 20 kts - not horrible, but we'd been paddling about 6-7 NM by that time, so we decided to take a break in the lee of Big Libby. When we came out around the north side of Big Libby, the wind had subsided a bit, but we were now in the thick of the ebb against the wind. Now, this was an interesting lesson for me. Dan has a lot of experience from white water paddling, and I later got a great bit of advice from him. As it was the waves and wind against the current was sloppy for me - the waves seemed to be hitting at random angles, and I was frustrated that I was executing more steering strokes than forward strokes - just kind of slopping around. It was a roller coaster for sure, but I wanted to be more in control. We got back to the island we camped at on Sunday night, after that 2 mile crossing from the LIbbys. There was a huge thunderstorm that passed to our north and hit Calais, but missed us. On Wednesday, we started back, but in the morning, we were dealing with a flood tide. the wind had shifted around to the NE, so again it was wind against tide. The crossing over to the Rogue archipelago was relatively uneventful, but when we hit the archipelago, each island intensified the wind-against-current effect. First there was Halifax. In the crossings, I felt the same sloppiness where I had to execute too many steering strokes for my taste. Then, Dan taught me a great trick, which I suppose many of you already know. I was previously trying to do a point-to-point paddle, but was getting sloppy quartering seas. If you just surf the waves, you can effectively set up a ferry angle. When you do this, you're using gravity to fight the current. Well, I was off to the friggin races with this one - I was surfing, and basically had to execute far fewer steering strokes, just the occasional stern rudder with some edging to stay on the wave. I was having a blast. I wish I'd known about this earlier, but I'm sure going to remember this in the future. That was great! We had a snack and then did a last crossing to the mainland and into Jonesport. We decided to shower up at an inn in Lubec, Cohills. The guy behind the desk was named Greg, and had paddled the coast from Florida all the way up to Lubec and then just stopped in Lubec - go figure. Anyway, he had some interesting stories about that paddle and the danger zones. Thursday was mainly sightseeing, but also kind of a recon. The tides on the Bold Coast from Machias/Cutler up to Lubec are monsterous, and there are mostly huge cliffs. The tide race off Quoddy Head light was quite something. We then drove around Cobbscook Bay to the reversing falls there, and caught them at max flood. Geeze, what a sight - biggest reversing falls I've ever seen with huge boils, a large central whirlpool and a lot of huge waves. Dan had paddled from Cutler around Quoddy and into Cobbscook a couple of years ago. He said he was doing 9 knots with the tide at one point. He also played a bit in the Cobbscook Falls - but they looked pretty awe inspiring. I don't think I'd go near them in a boat until I do a bunch more white water work. Anyway, it was a fantastic trip - although Dan's not an NSPN member, I'm grateful for the invitation and also for some of the stuff he taught me on the trip. Great stuff!!