Three days off of Stonington/Deer Isle

[chetpk]

Five of us (Sid Cohen, Bill Lord, Paul Radvany, Tom Hirschfeld & Scott Kimball) met Wednesday afternoon at Old Quarry Campground then launched into a somewhat blustery wind from the South-West and paddled over to Hell's Half Acre Island with enough time to set up camp, string a tarp and cook a dinner. The plan was that each person be responsible for a meal and immediately Bill set the bar high with his excellent home made spaghetti and meatball dinner with garlic bread. The evening was overcast, but temperature remained comfortable. The morning brought a breakfast by Tom fit for a classic roadside diner with an omelette filled with sautéed veggies, fruit, bagels and fresh coffee from his coffee press.

The day was stellar with a real blue sky, puffy clouds and mild to moderate wind. We left our base going around the north side of Bold Island then to Devils, between Millet and Spruce, down the eastern side of McGlathery, across Merchant Row to a circumnavigation of Harbor, but passed on landing on its' rocky slabs leading us to cross Merchant Row again for a nice beach on Wreck. There Paul pulled out a luncheon spread that commercial outfitters would have drooled for. Hey you only go around life once.

We took some R&R time on Wreck coupled with a driftwood scavenger hunt to stash in the empty hulls for a fire that night. Tom's well traveled folding saw complete with missing nut came through as we needed to shorten our evening's fire fuel to make them fit into those pointed end boats. From Wreck we past Bare, Combs and did a stop and circumnavigation of Buckle. Some of these MITA sights we stopped and checked out seemed better suited to hammock camping then tents. From Buckle it was a short run between Camp and Devils back to camp on Hell's.

That dinner was my lottery pick and boy did I struggle to get the stoves to boil when needed. Not sure why, but as the dinners patience was probably starting to wear thin waiting, I feared they would sharpen the edges of their carbon paddles to serve me a little Island Justice. Fortunately before such thoughts spread to a mutiny, meal was served and I hope they don't realize that the chicken in my sweet and sour meal came from a can.

The evening was cool, clear and a mass of stars. Fire on the beach, a dash of one, two or was it three drops of wine and nobody saw a reason to be any place, but where we were. After we went to bed I was woken by the tarp flapping like the remnants of a flag on Everest as a Canadian air mass had come rumbling into town. I had to do some quick reworking of the guy lines and long branches that were being used as poles to prevent the tarp from probably becoming shredded. The winds continued to build and Sids' attempts to cook us breakfast were becoming a constant battle to keep the stoves going or directing their heat up. Even after windshields were properly adjusted and a failed attempt to set the tarp up for a wind screen it became obvious that it simply made sense to go with a cold breakfast as we still had an abundance of wonderful choices and I didn't even go grumpy for having to skip on multiple cups of coffee.

At this point the winds were close to the thirty mile per hour and the entire Bay was full of white caps with spray coming off the tops of some. One lobster boat pushing through the stuff was sending wind driven water over fifteen feet up into the air from its' bow. Crossing the Bay to get to Old Quarry was looking like it might be a little more then a slugfest so after looking at our options the decision to haul the loaded boats to the backside of Hell's Half Acre and launch from there then run in the lee as much as we could using Camp and some smaller islands till we got to Potato then cut across to Russ and use it to buffer us to get over to the mainland then work our way along the shore till we had to cross Webb Cove. Near Humpkin's Ledge we were slowed to a little over a one kph pace for a short section demonstrating what kind of horsepower we would have had to try to generate to have made it as a direct crossing from Hell's.

We had almost all of that watery turf in sight completely to ourselves with only a rare lobster boat and a couple of sailboats ever in view. It is amazing what you can compress out of three days when you get a good cast of characters together and the stars and planets are willing to briefly line up to make life's journey a trip to the positive side.

Cheers,

Scott

[PeterB]

Five of us (Sid Cohen, Bill Lord, Paul Radvany, Tom Hirschfeld & Scott Kimball) met Wednesday afternoon at Old Quarry Campground then launched into a somewhat blustery wind from the South-West and paddled over to Hell's Half Acre Island with enough time to set up camp, string a tarp and cook a dinner. The plan was that each person be responsible for a meal and immediately Bill set the bar high with his excellent home made spaghetti and meatball dinner with garlic bread. The evening was overcast, but temperature remained comfortable. The morning brought a breakfast by Tom fit for a classic roadside diner with an omelette filled with sautéed veggies, fruit, bagels and fresh coffee from his coffee press.

The day was stellar with a real blue sky, puffy clouds and mild to moderate wind. We left our base going around the north side of Bold Island then to Devils, between Millet and Spruce, down the eastern side of McGlathery, across Merchant Row to a circumnavigation of Harbor, but passed on landing on its' rocky slabs leading us to cross Merchant Row again for a nice beach on Wreck. There Paul pulled out a luncheon spread that commercial outfitters would have drooled for. Hey you only go around life once.

We took some R&R time on Wreck coupled with a driftwood scavenger hunt to stash in the empty hulls for a fire that night. Tom's well traveled folding saw complete with missing nut came through as we needed to shorten our evening's fire fuel to make them fit into those pointed end boats. From Wreck we past Bare, Combs and did a stop and circumnavigation of Buckle. Some of these MITA sights we stopped and checked out seemed better suited to hammock camping then tents. From Buckle it was a short run between Camp and Devils back to camp on Hell's.

That dinner was my lottery pick and boy did I struggle to get the stoves to boil when needed. Not sure why, but as the dinners patience was probably starting to wear thin waiting, I feared they would sharpen the edges of their carbon paddles to serve me a little Island Justice. Fortunately before such thoughts spread to a mutiny, meal was served and I hope they don't realize that the chicken in my sweet and sour meal came from a can.

The evening was cool, clear and a mass of stars. Fire on the beach, a dash of one, two or was it three drops of wine and nobody saw a reason to be any place, but where we were. After we went to bed I was woken by the tarp flapping like the remnants of a flag on Everest as a Canadian air mass had come rumbling into town. I had to do some quick reworking of the guy lines and long branches that were being used as poles to prevent the tarp from probably becoming shredded. The winds continued to build and Sids' attempts to cook us breakfast were becoming a constant battle to keep the stoves going or directing their heat up. Even after windshields were properly adjusted and a failed attempt to set the tarp up for a wind screen it became obvious that it simply made sense to go with a cold breakfast as we still had an abundance of wonderful choices and I didn't even go grumpy for having to skip on multiple cups of coffee.

At this point the winds were close to the thirty mile per hour and the entire Bay was full of white caps with spray coming off the tops of some. One lobster boat pushing through the stuff was sending wind driven water over fifteen feet up into the air from its' bow. Crossing the Bay to get to Old Quarry was looking like it might be a little more then a slugfest so after looking at our options the decision to haul the loaded boats to the backside of Hell's Half Acre and launch from there then run in the lee as much as we could using Camp and some smaller islands till we got to Potato then cut across to Russ and use it to buffer us to get over to the mainland then work our way along the shore till we had to cross Webb Cove. Near Humpkin's Ledge we were slowed to a little over a one kph pace for a short section demonstrating what kind of horsepower we would have had to try to generate to have made it as a direct crossing from Hell's.

We had almost all of that watery turf in sight completely to ourselves with only a rare lobster boat and a couple of sailboats ever in view. It is amazing what you can compress out of three days when you get a good cast of characters together and the stars and planets are willing to briefly line up to make life's journey a trip to the positive side.

Cheers,

Scott

Nice report., Scott: thanks! One always reads such reports with a mix of vicarious pleasure, and envy. All that talk of islands and good food makes me want to eat and paddle. I can't paddle at the moment, so I think 'll eat my lunch a little early.

[peter hinsch]

I agree that reports like Scott's are great to read. It's very easy to "insert" yourself into the group and imagine dealing with all of the conditions being described. Sometimes I'm glad that I wasn't paddling, but I'm still somewhat envious anyway.

Only a little envious with this report. Fortunately, my wife and I (along with just one other paddling friend this year) will be staying about 1/4 mile NE from Old Quarry beginning next Wednesday. We have some friends who rent a house every year for the week before Columbus Day and they are kind enough to invite us up, for the 5th year now. So for payment, we bring enough food for everybody. No camping required from this place (which could be a negative to some). The house is the one with the pool (close to 100' diameter) built into/ onto the ledge and has a walkway and rail along the water's edge. There is also a small red boathouse to the east. Grog Island is right out the front window (beyond the ledge). Can't think of a better location to paddle from.

We'll be paddling to most of the islands that Scott mentioned. One of my "new" favorites is Russ. The meadow on top at sunset can be spectacular. Others include Sheep, Harbor and Steve's. A trip to Blue Hill Falls is on the agenda as well. It'll be our 3rd time there. Still have a ways to go to feel comfortable in that bumpy stuff. But still having fun!

We won't be savoring any culinary delights that Scott shared. Our food consists of mostly PBJ's, choc. chip cookies and trail mix while paddling. But each night we'll be enjoying our filets, mulligatawny soup, pumpkin pies and more. There are tradeoffs.

This report has really psyched me up for our trip! Thanks Scott and to all others who have shared their paddling adventures. I look forward to reading them and hopefully paddling with you folks at some point. My wife and I are from CT and are Tuesday Night Paddlers and ConnYakers. Thanks again!

Pete H.

[Bill Lord]

Hi Folks. Sorry I am so late getting to this but my computer at home is crapped out and it took me awhile to figure out how to upload my photos. These shots, though obviously amateur, only touch on the beauty of this area. This trip is definetly going to be an annual. I can't really add anything to Scott's report, it was a great time with great people.

http://good-times.webshots.com/album/575028326hHmkBe

Regards,

Bill

[brambor]

Great documentary. I wish I was there.

Hi Folks. Sorry I am so late getting to this but my computer at home is crapped out and it took me awhile to figure out how to upload my photos. These shots, though obviously amateur, only touch on the beauty of this area. This trip is definetly going to be an annual. I can't really add anything to Scott's report, it was a great time with great people.

http://good-times.webshots.com/album/575028326hHmkBe

Regards,

Bill

[ayong]

bill--terrific pics! that was one helluva weekend, can't wait to do it again--only 50 more weeks to go...

thanx

hope we get in some more paddling in the next few weeks

tom