Journeying Downeast : Schoodic Peninsula to Machiasport

[PeterB]

I was in the mood for journeying Downeast, beyond Bar Harbor, and so was Les the Swearing Ferret . I had envisioned a one–way, on-the–go trip from Schoodic Peninsula to Machias Bay, and Les acquiesced, so that’s what we did.

We met up at Oceanwood Campground, on the east side of Schoodic Peninsula (one of the finest campgrounds I’ve ever been), caravan’d to Machiasport, the end of our planned route, dropped a car there, stopped around dusk at Helen’s for chowder and pie, drove back in one car to Oceanwood, and sacked out for the night..

The next morning, we set off at around 11AM from Oceanwood’s cobbly beach. After a summer of crappy weather, fortunes had changed, and we had a dry, sunny, fair day with calm seas.

Our destination for that night was Bois Bubert Island, about nine miles away, but our first concern was crossing Petit Manan Bar, which extends two miles southward from Petit Manan Point, with Petit Manan Lighthouse as the exclamation point. We were intent on passing through the bar close to high tide, around 12:30PM, the best opportunity for safe passage.

As things went, seas were calm all long the bar, only a few boomers to dodge here and there, so we had an easy time of it. Rounding Petit Manan Point, Bois Bubert came into view, a little less than two miles away , but neither of us felt like ending the day so early, so we elected to paddle up Pigeon Hill Bay and then down the eastern side of island to our campsite. We had stopped for lunch near Petit Manan Point and, just as we set off again , a single black cloud passed swiftly overhead, accompanied by winds strong enough to turn our ‘hood into a mass of whitecaps and make Les’ boat leecock away from shore , so we got back close to Petit Manan’s eastern shore , and getting what lee we could, plodded up Pigeon Hill Bay to Chitman Point , abreast of the northern tip of Bois Bubert, where we crossed over and ,now with wind and tide, sailed down to our campsite , covering a mile and a quarter in about fifteen minutes.

Bois Bubert is a big, wild island, and the campsite is known for beefy mosquitos, but our evening was dry and fairly cool so our sufferings were minimal. The campsite was grassy, behind a stone berm, with a splendid view of the Douglas Islands and, three miles distant, Shipstern Island. Off to the right was Jordan‘s Delight, almost treeless , with dramatic brown ciiffs and a lonely house on top.

We set off the next morning at 10 AM, another fine day, slithered along the Douglas islands and then past the lighthouse on Pond Island, (now a private residence,) and crossed to aptly named Shipstern Island, which resembles the aft end of a pirate ship. Even the amber colored strata of rock resembled gun decks. This island , seen in fog or by moonlight, would stir the imagination of anyone who grew up on children’s books with color plates by Howard Pyle and N.C. Wyeth.

We stopped on Flint Island for lunch, then set our sights on Green Island, a barren exposed place just off of South Addison Neck. From there we scooted over to Stevens Island and found our campsite, a cozy grassy place amidst trees, near a friendly sand cove. It was another beautiful evening, so, after setting up camp, I took a sunset spin around nearby Drisko Island, relishing the feel of once again paddling an unloaded boat.

The next morning was again bright and clear, and the ocean was a millpond. Our destination was Halifax Island, but, though it would be a longer trip, Great Wass was irresistible , so we headed off to the southeast , across Western Bay and, rounding the exposed southwest corner of Great Wass ,we ducked into “The Pondâ€, one of the more unusual coastal features I’ve seen, a lovely cove where the upper reaches are at a higher elevation, so at low tide, a vast tidal pool remains.

The flood tide moves right along Red Head, (another aptly named

place :pink granite everywhere) so we had a fast ride along the dramatic outer face of Great Wass, passing Moose Peak Lighthouse and ducking into Head Harbor and the “Cows Yardâ€, yet another enchanted, one-of a kind place,

We stopped to scare up some water at the boat launch just across Moosebec Reach from Jonesport; finding none there, we ferried across the Reach, Les found some at a campground at Kelley Point , and we headed off for The Roque Islands, looming a couple of miles in the distance across Chandler Bay. On this fair afternoon, this was one of the most pleasant crossings I’ve ever had. Passing through a notch in the islands we came into Roque Harbor, and there was the surreal , incredible sight of a long tropical sand beach, glowing in the afternoon sun, amidst an otherwise Stygian landscape of russet potato-colored craggy rocks and deep green spruce trees.

It was getting on, and after 19.5 nautical miles in the saddle, we were both ready for Halifax Island and a little camp comfort, but camp comfort was not meant to be : we arrived at Halifax to find the islands two tent sites already taken; their occupants greeted us and, after cheerfully showing us their cozy camp, bounty of wine ,beer and fine foods, pointed us in the direction of the islands other lousy camp alternatives. So we paddled around to a small cove on the other side of the island, and, after much stumbling, and exploring, we found a weather- battered old wooden platform just big enough for two tents , I banged all the rusty nails flat with a big stone , shored up the bottom with rocks , turned it into a tent platform, and we retired.

I awoke in the middle of the night, and the nearby whooshing of high tide, and my tent rustling in the wind and rain, had me thinking dark thoughts of our 11 mile paddle the next day: fighting surf to get out of our little harbor, opting for a bailout at Roque Bluffs etc. , but the day dawned fairer than expected, so off we went at about 10 am, into pea soup fog for which this area is notorious.

As we crossed in the fog from Halifax to the head of Machias Bay, we were being pushed by the tide and moving at over 4 knots, rather than the 3 knots we had calculated, so we were where we should be but didn’t think we could have travelled our 2.5 miles that fast, so there was some mometary confusion until we confirmed where we were. From there we handrailed our way up Machias Bay, past Bucks Harbor , and fabulous rock formations and sea caves. The fog finally lifted , revealing a lovely pastoral scene of upper Machias Bay :a cluster of historic buildings in the narrows ,and coves carpeted with lime green salt marsh grass. It was important that we get to our car, just past the narrows, right at high tide, and we breezed in at 2pm, right on the money.

This was a fine trip. Les was a great paddling companion, very game. The Beale Machine cannot be stopped! We had mostly fair weather, and friendly seas, and no arguments that I can remember. There was a bit more lugging of loaded boats over seaweed than would have been preferred , but a decent tradeoff for moving everyday and seeing so much. This was my favorite stretch of the Maine Island Trail.

[tyson]

Sometimes it seems unfortunate that I'm employed and need to show up at work on a regular basis. Sounds like a fabulous trip!

Cheers!

Ty

[EEL]

Trip of my dreams, other than the bold coast. What more to say? Glad you got to stay at Oceanwood as reported to be closing after this year. You had incredible good fortune with the weather. The sandy beach on Roque, the Cow Yard, headland of the

Great Wass, Moose Light, cove on Steves are places that are imprinted in my brain.

There is still Tall Barney's and the Brothers as reasons to go back?

Still plenty of time this year Tyson.

Ed Lawson

[tyson]

Still plenty of time this year Tyson.

Though the kayaking season doesn't end, the skiing season does start. Additionally, vacation time isn't unlimited and I have plans to visit a friend in Sweden this fall.

However, if you find yourself looking for partners for a trip like this next year, keep Emilie and I in mind.

Cheers!

Ty

[chetpk]

I paddled the almost identical route and camped on the same islands several summers back with H2Outfitters. It is everything as you described and I would agree one of the best stretches in Maine to visit. It has a completely different feel, sense of wilderness and a bit of rawness that seems to separate it from much of the coastline that is further south-west of it. When we camped on Halifax we had it to ourselves. After setting camp, then circumnavigating it we were treated to a pristine late afternoon-evening giving us magical 360's from its' high point as the light was just perfect. The look and changes of the shoreline and sea cliffs of Machias Bay adds one more sprinkle on the cake to end it all. Great trip and nice report.

[PeterB]

There is still Tall Barney's and the Brothers as reasons to go back?[/color]

Aaah, The Brothers. Two barren islands, a mile out from Halifax, with red and green cans marking the bowling alley-like channel between them.

A few days later, we talked to a sailor who said that the Brothers have an excellent campsite. Knowing what we know now, we might have scooted over there and camped with less of the fuss we endured rooting around Halifax for a place to set up .

[EEL]

[quote name='PeterB' date='Sep 2 2009, 09:20 PM' post='34530'

A few days later, we talked to a sailor who said that the Brothers have an excellent campsite. Knowing what we know now, we might have scooted over there and camped with less of the fuss we endured rooting around Halifax for a place to set up .

I think at least one of the Brothers is closed part of year, but they do draw you. Sounds like you ended up in the E cove of Halifax with ledges in the center...right? Would not take much swell to make that an "interesting" place was my impression looking down on it. Hopefully you got to go up to the top of the hill on the S end.

Tent platforms are an abomination, but I suppose they serve a purpose.

Ed Lawson