As usual, there were kerosene lanterns, which I didn’t attempt to photograph.
And this time, phosphorescence in the water itself. Ditto.

But, as I noted:
unseen, the moon grows more luminus
in night shrinking from day
You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
As usual, there were kerosene lanterns, which I didn’t attempt to photograph.
And this time, phosphorescence in the water itself. Ditto.

But, as I noted:
unseen, the moon grows more luminus
in night shrinking from day
A sloop has only one mast, for starters.
There’s a whole new vocabulary to learn.
It’s a way of looking through the eyes of others.

Those things on the ropes, er, lines are called baggy wrinkles. They protect the lines and sheets, i.e. sails, from harmful rubbing. That is, they’re a furry cover for rope sphering.

Deck prism is another term. It’s a small round window. Here’s how it looked from my bunk. Overhead, people were walking on it.

Hatch is the opening between the deck and the hold below. This one connects by a ladder (not stairs) to cabins (aka staterooms).

Another leads to the galley, which includes what others would call a kitchen.

the Stephen Tabor carried
64 cords of firewood at a time
back in the day
oh, look, another damn lighthouse

okey dokey
“ready about!”
Preparing to tack
“press it off!”
“well, that’s backwards”
Every night, the canopy is spread
every morning, stowed away
how he manages a wood cookstove
eludes me
the galley’s tight and must be a hot space
on a hot or humid day
regardless, he starts at 3 a.m.
and there’s coffee by 6:30 all the same


blueberry pancakes, slice of melon
cod chowder, a biscuit
roasted chicken drumstick, asparagus,
a risotto, Boston cream cake
lunch an excellent beef stew
and a great, crunchy sourdough bread
feeling like I’ve been here forever
in a good way
knowing it’s rarely this perfect
“no matter how much I eat
I keep losing weight on this ship”
sez male crew member
the cook’s apron
a variation on his overalls
the cook never learned wood-stove cookery
in culinary school
‘cuz he never attended one
in lighting a cook fire
the secret’s you have to stack
the firewood in tight
the galley’s quite crowded
the French burns four cords in a season in summer
Zen temple abbot and head cook
two most important personages
the cook also helps with the crew
mans an oar
hauls line, as needed
Tom, an E.R.
surgeon grew up in Camden
southern California now
capable of handling the helm
the concept of “running
the rail down”
meaning skimming the water
yes, surf

I even got a spree there
where he is
how would square-riggers look on these waters?
Lost behind a small island

finally, a shadow
and a tinge of warmth
Informal racing out on the open waters was already a longstanding tradition when the Maine Lobster Boat Racing Association formed and launched its first races in 1964.
Fishing is a dangerous occupation, one luring a gnarly but dedicated gang into its ranks. It’s said they have salt water in their veins, or as I’ve heard them say of themselves, they’re either crazy or dumb – or both.
It should be no surprise, then, that here in Maine, lobstermen come together on summer weekends to race their boats. They have a pick of at least one every weekend.
Yup, race. Lobster boats don’t exactly look sleek or graceful – they’re built to work in all kinds of weather and take a beating. But they also have powerful engines. I had no idea just how powerful.
Besides, guys being guys, lobstermen have long boasted about their beloved boats – many are named after sweethearts and children, after all. Comparing theirs against their peers’ meant putting their words to the test.
All of that has led to a circuit of races starting in Boothbay and ending in Portland, with ten or so other sites along the way.
With that in mind, here are ten more bits to consider.
brought latest Paris Review and Harper’s
as reading along with Vincent Katz pages
maybe stimulation
didn’t read anything, really, apart from some entries
in the free guide to lighthouses I had picked up
nearly a decade earlier


So here’s the official advice before setting forth:
We are very relaxed and informal on board, so bring comfortable outdoor clothes. If possible, use a duffel or collapsible bag to pack your gear. Hard suitcases are sometimes difficult to store in the cabins.
The weather may be cool or warm, so include pants, shorts, long and short sleeve shirts, a sweater or sweatshirt and a jacket. When the wind picks up, things cool off, so think layers when you pack.
Don’t forget your bathing suit, either for sunbathing or a quick plunge in the ocean.
Soft soled shoes are best, and an extra pair may come in handy. Sandals also work well on board or on the beaches we visit.
If you have a rain slicker, bring it along just in case. We do have extra rain gear on board if you can’t bring your own.
Also, if you can, check the weather for Camden, Maine online before you pack. It may give you an idea of the specific weather for your trip. But remember that it is always slightly cooler out on the water.
We provide towels, linens, blankets, pillows, and all the food and non-alcoholic drinks. We have an icebox on board for passengers to use if they would like to bring along their own beer, wine, etc.
Bring a camera with extra batteries, sunglasses, lots of sunscreen, a good book, binoculars, a journal, and your musical talents/instruments (if they are transportable!). If you want to sleep on deck under the stars, bring along a sleeping bag. Some folks bring charts or GPS’s to keep up with our route.
Once we leave the dock, we operate on 12 volt DC power. There are USB outlets for charging phones – please bring your own USB cord. We do have limited 110 volt AC power (like in your house) that can be used for medical machines and for occasional charging of batteries. Please let us know when you book if you will be needing 110 volt AC power to operate a medical machine.
do Fresnel lenses ratings run
up (from lowest)
to top, five (for highest)
or the other way around?
Turn’s out 1 is the strongest
5, the least

what are the others really thinking
or observing under their cheerful banter?
Geographically, Maine is the biggest state in New England – almost as large as the other five combined. That still ranks it 39th in size in the USA.
We’re also famed for some very dry humorists and fresh-from-the-sea lobsters the way Vermont’s stuck with maple syrup and a red leaves identity.
Beyond that, here are some other things that are unique to the place.