A week of kayak camping in Stonington

[Dan Foster]

In early August 2022, Janet, Kate, and I spent a full week exploring the islands off Stonington, ME, and were joined by Gary for the middle part of our trip. We launched from Sand Beach in Stonington, taking advantage of the convenient and reasonably-priced car shuttle and parking from nearby Greenlaw's Campground.

Our first stop was Steve Island, a beautiful MITA island where the wrap-around granite ledges provided easy access to protected cooking sites, numerous sun-bathing, relaxing, and gear-drying options, and views of some spectacular sunsets. Day 2 was the "nickel tour" of the archipelago, including a stop at the flooded quarry at MCHT's Green Island Preserve for a refreshing dip.

After two nights on Steve's, it was time to pack up and head south to Kimball, which would be our base for exploring Isle au Haut. We visited the NE campsite on Harbor (spacious site with a tricky ledge landing) and scoped out the two-tent-max site on Nathan along the way. Kimball has its own all-tides landing beach, multiple nice tent pads, and a well-maintained hiking trail that leads up and over the island to a shell beach facing Isle au Haut. It was a great location!

Since Kimball and some of the other islands in this report are privately owned, and part of the MITA trail due to the generosity of the landowners, this seems a good time to mention that...

Access to coastal islands is a privilege built on landowner trust and visitor care. Visitation guidelines vary by island and owner expectations can change from year to year. When planning a trip, please be sure you have the most up to date information for each island, and be a mindful guest when you visit. The Maine Island Trail Association is a good source of information about many coastal Maine islands open for recreational use, www.MITA.org. MITA membership is the best way to keep current and support responsible use and stewardship of these special places. 

We pitched camp and then decided to paddle up to the National Park Service's Duck Harbor Campground on Isle au Haut, taking advantage of the lee shore to hide from the wind. We rode waves up the outside of Kimball, catching long rides and enjoying the thrill of zipping along the wild coastline. Rounding Kimball, we realized that the wind had increased dramatically, and that the lee we'd expected between the islands was actually a funnel. We gave up on Duck Harbor (we'd see it tomorrow) and put our full effort into getting back to camp. It was a slog, and the toughest paddling of the trip. We finally pulled into the little town dock at Isle au Haut and had some lunch.

Things slackened on the short paddle back to camp, where the whitecaps mysteriously disappeared as we landed, and Gary, who launched to meet us at about that time, reported light breezes on his afternoon paddle to Kimball.

Tuesday's weather remained unsettled, so we opted for a hiking day on Isle au Haut. This time, the four mile paddle to Duck Harbor was a success, and we landed as best we could and carried boats up to the grass near the ferry boat landing. (There is slightly better landing a bit further down the cove, but the entire harbor is a slippery, rocky mess below mid-tide). We checked out the six lean-to campsites and then set out for a day of hiking along the Western Head, Cliff, and Duck Harbor Mountain trails.

The trail winds its way toward Western Ear, crossing cobble beaches and rocky outcrops before ducking (and harboring) back into the black spruce forest. The overcast skies and swirling mist complimented the trail perfectly, and I felt we were stepping back in time as we weaved in and out of bogs, forest, and wild coast.

At Western Ear, we paused to reflect on the bounty of the sea.

We then made our way along the Cliff Trail, admiring the rugged coastline of high cliffs, massive slots, and the wild water below. About 15 minutes into our lunch stop, a massive wall of whitewater erupted over a ledge about a quarter-mile out to sea, and we spent some time debating whether it had been doing so all along, just hidden from our view in the fog, or if this was a sleeping boomer, just waiting for the right combination of waves to catch kayakers unaware. We never saw it explode like that again. It was a bit disturbing, as we'd be paddling inside of that ledge on our circumnavigation tomorrow.

The Duck Harbor Mountain trail featured some ridiculous scrambles, as we worked our way up (and often down!) granite ledges to a viewpoint several hundred feet above the ocean.

We'd had the trails to ourselves up until now, when the bubble of hikers from the 10AM mail boat to Duck Harbor came through. Most notable was a group of five young women followed closely by a young man wearing only green underpants. "It's really hot" was the excuse we were given. To his credit, it was.

The gusty winds which had plagued us throughout the first few days of the trip finally settled down, and Wednesday turned out to be a perfect day for our circumnavigation of Isle au Haut. We made quick work of the paddle around the south and east sides of the island, and made a difficult landing on Eastern Ear. Continuing around the outside of the Ear, we were surprised to see someone on shore, photographing us as we made our way around the wild rocky point. There was no sign of a boat, a tent, or even a good place to land a boat, and we debated the possibility of swimming over from Eastern Head for the day at low tide.

The stretch of coast "Between the Ears" was spectacular, and thankfully, much milder than the raging conditions we'd seen from above the day before. There were cliffs, pockets, slots, and waves, and we took our time, admiring the scenery and soaking in the interaction between Atlantic swell and prehistoric granite.

We landed for lunch just shy of Duck Harbor, at one of the cobble beaches we'd hiked the day before. A steady stream of park visitors hiked through as we refueled and relaxed. Then it was back up the western coast and around Kimball one last time to complete the 18 nautical mile circumnavigation of Isle au Haut.

Breaking camp the next morning, we set out for the campsite on the north side of Saddleback Island, where we'd talked to a group of free-diving kayakers earlier in the week. As we approached, a small boat was headed right for the campsite, and the race was on. They got there first, and began unloading large waterproof boxes and some suspiciously-chainsaw-shaped objects, which turned out to be chainsaw-shaped chainsaws. It was MCHT's trail crew, here for a day of trail work and island maintenance. We made a hasty camp, thanked them for their service, and beat a hasty retreat back onto the water as the saws and weed whackers roared to life.

We lunched, lazed, loafed, and lingered on the lovely Enchanted Island, which sports a beach straight out of the Caribbean.

Passing Spruce, we debated the possible workings of a granite driveway rising straight from the sea, inflatable boats with drop-down wheels in the stern, and a winch and pulley system at the top of the "driveway", presumably to make it easier to head into town for groceries. Given our own private island and enough free time, I suspect one of us would eventually engineer a similar solution, though probably not without several mishaps involving spilt milk, cracked eggs, and sunken duck boats along the way.

On the way back to camp, Janet and I encountered a pair of Harbor Porpoises working their way through a dense field of lobster traps, and floated in wonder as they swam up to and beneath our boats, surfacing every 30 seconds or so take a blowy breath of air before arching back down again.

On Friday morning, we waved goodbye as Gary departed for home through the dense fog, and then set out to explore our way down toward Naskeag. We island-hopped through the fog down to Eastern Mark, and then over to the Lazygut Thrumcaps. We found the MITA description of the Lazygut Thrumcaps entirely confusing, as it referenced three islands - one private with a cottage, one (outer) day-use-only, and one (inner) with camping. Approaching from the south, we saw three islands, labelled Lazygut Islands on the chart, with a prominent cottage on the westernmost one, and a large channel between it and the others. It would appear that there are actually FOUR islands here, the two MITA Thrumcaps being separated by about a 6 foot channel that is a sand bar/beach at most tides.

Both the western-most and eastern-most have cottages on them. USGS topo shows four distinct islands, my chart showed three, and Janet's showed what looked more like a cove than a bifurcation of the Thrumcaps. Some mention of the "other" Lazygut island in the MITA guide, and the use of some cardinal directions rather than inner and outer, might help future visitors.

To make things even more confusing, today's nickel tour of the western islands was affectionately called "Sheep, Little Sheep, Other Sheep, Bigger Little Sheep", in honor of the two pairs of Sheep/Little Sheep islands within three miles of each other. I famously spent an hour last July with another group, hunting in vain through dense blowdown on Sheep (Deer Isle) for "the campsite facing Little Sheep", which was actually located three miles east of us on Sheep (Stonington). Since the fog had dispersed, we paddled across Eggemoggin Reach to Crow, admiring the octagonal house in its center which appears hollow, thanks to its enormous glass windows. A central fireplace and hood must provide an exceedingly-wonderful spot to watch storms roll in across the waters, with views to Acadia rising beyond. We proceeded across to Sellers and MCHT's Hog Island, which has LOTS of group camping options.

Working our way back toward home now, we paddled past the first of many Potato islands (this one closed for nesting bald eagles in 2022 - a good reminder to check those MITA guides before visiting!), waved to the Deer Isle Sheep/ettes, and rounded Stinson Neck. There, a huge wooden staircase descended toward the water from a cluster of small cabins, all tucked into the surrounding woods on at least four levels. We were befuddled, especially about the grand descending staircase, which was at least 20 feet wide. This turned out to be the Haystack Mountain School of Crafts. The staircase serves as a central meeting point for the artists and artisans who spend residencies there, and encourages the interchange of ideas, and the whole site's architecture has won numerous awards.

We enjoyed one final campfire on the beach before tucking in for a final night's sleep on the islands, and our paddle back to civilization the next day.

Thanks to MITA, MCHT, and the National Park Service for making these experiences possible, and to Janet, Kate, and Gary for being such wonderful paddling, hiking, and camping companions.

Link to more photos:

https://photos.app.goo.gl/UTF15qwiR4F3fbMr6

 

Edited August 19, 2022 by Dan Foster
Inserted MITA disclaimer, removed erroneous reference to Marshall

[EEL]

Nice! Especially liked the pics of marine life.

I have been told there is a cabin on Easter Ear, but it is not visible from shore.  Person knew the owner so I guess it is true.

There can be more than a few boomers on south end of IAH when the air around the heads is full of mist from rollers smashing in.

Ed Lawson

 

 

[Dan Foster]

Ahhh, right you are! Google Earth shows a fair-sized house nestled in the woods. A further review of the park maps shows that Eastern Head is part of Acadia NP, but the Ear is privately owned. My apologies to the owner for our brief stop on the beach.