2-Part Casco Bay Sojourn, 10.21

[gyork]

Skip report; go straight to SLIDESHOW

Having done a number of multi-day kayaking trips, I thought it would be fun to invite others for a shorter version in Casco bay. The plan was to spend two nights at one island, move camp, and tent on a different island for two more nights.

Jewell is a favorite of mine, and would be the first stage of the two-part trip.  Despite memories of my last time parking HERE @ Cousins Island back in 2013, five of us gathered at Sandy Point Beach  for a 10 AM lunch. The tide schedule was optimal for this adventure,

 

and we launched under sunny skies and calm seas. Within 10 minutes we were hailed by a gentleman comadeering an oyster farm float. Turns out this captain is a 5-star kayaker, and, without knowing any of us, repeated “I am better than you.“ We readily accepted his declaration, as well as not one, but two dozen fresh oysters on ice. Thank you very much, Thomas, of Madeline Point Oyster Farms.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We meandered over to ‘Lil Chebeague, had a look-see, and enjoyed a fine repast. Post-lunch, under blue sky and flat (in contrast to the next day’s paddle) seas, we bee-lined to S. Cliff and were soon crossing the bar (Rule of thumb for crossing the bar: any time above half tide) to Jewell’s Cocktail Cove.

Tent sites were claimed quickly at the Twin Oaks site, and most were anxious to get down to the business of the day, dispatching fresh oysters, which was done with aplomb by four of the five campers. Apparently, fresh oysters are to be eaten until they are gone, as it makes no sense to “save some for later.“

     

 

Kyle and Vytas, always the adventurers, arrived @ dusk with 1/2 cord of firewood, camped @ #2 site, and dashed back home in the morning to go to work!

     

 

Friday’s plan was to rendezvous with paddler #6, who was planning to launch from Cousins. Everything seemed favorable to meet him on Crow, until the forecast changed from “light and variable” to “11 -14, with gusts to 20.” We launched at 10 from the Cove, and were pleased to see that the wind was not yet up as we paddled to Eagle, via Brown Cow Ledges. Lunch and a loop hike to southern Eagle was enough of a delay for Mother Nature to bring in some heavy wind from the east, so we were pushed to the gap between Bates and Ministerial to consider our next step for meeting Ben, whom we had communicated with earlier that morning. Yong found him on his cell, and he had not launched, so a rendezvous at Crow was not likely to happen, given the weather and time circumstances. The group consensus was for Ben to make the short paddle to a nearby island to solo camp, while we tried to figure out how to get back “home.“ Rather than face the often-dicey waters north of Jewell, with its long fetch to the open sea, we decided to paddle the lee side of Cliff, then paddle directly into the easterly wind to Jewel, thinking that Jewel might block some of the wave action, but not the wind. Just before making the crossing we met SMSKN’s John and Greg, campers @ south Jewell, awaiting transport back to Jewell, as they reported having no luck paddling our intended route, thwarted by the strong wind. Nonetheless, our blood was up, and we decided to make a go of it. The tight cluster of five paddlers made slow and steady progress across the gap, and, at length, nestled into the warm arms of the Cove.

Yong and I offered our never-used, always-carried repair kits to effect repairs of boat (leaking crack-Dana) and drysuit (torn neck gasket-Debra).

 

We later enjoyed meals by the fire, and late into the night, when most had retired, Dan, with his new aluminum Dutch oven, delivered piping hot cinnamon buns close to midnight, apologizing for the burnt bottoms. I had not even noticed, having dispatched the bun in a (almost) single bite.

 

 

 

 

 

Many of my saved waypoints on trips like this are dining out options, and Day #3, moving day, would (not) be a nav exercise to find the restaurant at Dolphin Point Marina. No problem, as we would just follow our noses through the bumpy waters around the Brown Cow,

western side of Eagle, and straight shot to the restaurant, parking at the southern tip of the expansive grassy field.

After delicious meals, most took the scenic route to the Whaleboats, while I paddled straight-line to our Base Camp for the next two days, to meet Ben, who likely had already suffered enough alone time. Camp #2 was spectacular, with many options to disperse tents, and the most supreme feature: the wind–protected western gathering spot with a seashell beach, sunsets, and a low-tide bar to the adjoining western island. Dan, ever the camp chef, rigged an overhanging davit to hang his grill and Dutch oven, results of which produced toasted cheesy breadsticks and POPCORN,

 

    

 

respectively, among other delicacies. A few scavenged mussels were served as appetizers. Seems the local raccoons got “wind” of the party, and Dan woke up to empty food hatches and incriminating paw prints. Others noticed hatches with evidence of foiled illegal entry attempts. STORE YOUR FOOD IN YOUR TENT VESTIBULE @ NIGHT.

Day #4 was cloudy and calm, and we proceeded northerly along the chain of islands, stopping at a few MCHT sites, finding time for this modified cornhole game, prize going to Ben for finding the 50-point hole.

Along the way back to camp, Yong and Ben ventured across the bay to Harpswell, with dim hopes that a shoreside seafood shack would be open on this holiday weekend; it was not. We repeated the nightly beach festival and stowed excess prime oak firewood for the next guests.

The IPD holiday was warm and sunny, and we mosied back to the cars, spending much of the time with on-water nav practice. Ben led the tour of his nite #1 campsite, the last stop before ending our journey @ Sandy Point, memories sated and tires inflated.

 

 

Reflections:

-If you are “from away,” don’t bother with the online resource wardensreport.com. Call direct for a fire permit 207.827.1800

-Food stored in your kayak overnite may result in damaged hatch covers and diminished food supply. Make room in your vestibule.

-Fresh oysters should be dispatched anon; leave no trace but shells.

-For successful parking @ Cousins, forward your float plan to the Yarmouth Harbormaster.

-Aluminum Dutch ovens are all the rage for kayak camping.

-After discarding the high and low, the average liquid consumption for the other paddlers ~2.5L/day

 

 

  

 

[dsigall]

Wonderful trip- venue, conditions and not least, the company. Thanks to all and especially Gary for maple syrup & organizing.

[kate]

Sounds like a very enjoyable trip! One note about the loss of food and storing in the vestibule: this summer our group camped at Little Chebeague, and one person left her sealed bag of food in her vestibule. The next morning it was nowhere to be seen. A search of the area revealed the opened bag in shrubbery nearby. Among the food items consumed was an emptied bag of Cheetos, the part she mourned the most. So I don't know what the answer is. I have never had a problem with storing food in my hatch, in a sealed bag within a sealed larger bag. I have been known to drape seaweed over the hatch to disguise the smell, but have no idea whether that is actually effective. Maybe cooking away from boats and tents would be more useful?

Dan, where were those cinnamon buns when we camped off Jonesport this summer??

[Dan Foster]

I'm not convinced that storing food in the tent vestibule is the right solution, either. On our final night, the dry bag containing my car keys was dragged out of my open vestibule and into the nearby woods while we were eating dinner down on the beach. Given that raccoons pried hatch covers off two different boats, I'm not convinced they couldn't/wouldn't have an issue crawling under (or tearing through) the vestibule fabric.

The mantra for backpacking has always been to hang food high enough and far enough from nearby tree trunks that a bear can't get to it, or to utilize bear-proof canisters. Food is cooked and stored well away from camp. What works for bears also works for mice and "little bears" (raccoons). Food in the tent is less-risky in dispersed camping scenarios where animals aren't accustomed to a constant stream of new dinner arrivals, like at a designated campsite.

I've always hung my food or stored it in the kayak while kayak camping, and never had a problem, until I did. I'm planning on a layered approach to food security on future trips, which will likely include some of the following:

I'll bring sufficient extra cordage to string up a proper bear bag if a suitable location presents itself.

I'll have a thick (PVC?), waterproof dry bag specifically for odor control and allowing food to hang outside in the pouring rain without getting wet.

If food is in my kayak hatch at night, there will be split paddles under bungees over the top of that hatch, perhaps tied in with a bit of paracord. 

I'll keep my cooking gear and other small, draggable items in Ikea bags at night, and try to hang and tie them up off the ground to make it harder to get into.

My really stinky stuff (fresh food, 3-day old trash) will go into Gary's vestibule at night.

[gyork]

25 minutes ago, Dan Foster said:

.........Ikea bags at night, ..........

These handy, but noisy bags are my vestibule "trip wire."

 

My really stinky stuff (fresh food, 3-day old trash) will go into Gary's vestibule at night.

 I have a strict "no open container" policy for my vestibule, and will place extra (can you ever have too many?) Ikea bags, upside down, over the bottom, open bags. I'll gladly take your stinky stuff (what you mentioned) into my vestibule, to settle this "Great Racoon Challenge" once and forever!