You never know what we'll churn up in cleaning a stall
marking entry to Eggemoggin Reach
below Castine
the free lighthouse guide I brought along
2013 edition I see now
newsprint
has no mention of Saddleback Ledge light
not to be confused with Saddleback Island
other than a listing
no photo or description
nor does it list Eastport as a harbor
nor Lubec
though Calais somehow counts
buoys: green have flat tops
red, coneheads
Eggemoggin Reach
the Deer Isle bridge ahead
we’ll barely clear
six inches or sixty feet, what’s the difference?
other than a margin of error
the electronic gizmo’s
soundings in feet
at mean lower low water
I got to steer today
a feel of command
aiming for the arch of the bridge
Taking forever to get to the span
Deer Isle Bridge, as seen by vehicular traffic
Eggemoggen Reach Bridge from the water
a fixed bridge meaning
it doesn’t draw open
one more detail on the chart
(see Note B)
which I can’t find anywhere
until it’s pointed out in the margin,
same color type as the notice
we’re pushed by Greyhound
the inboard yawl
the motor behind me as a drone note
humming above lapping water
people bundled up this morning muted sun water depth 64
just gone to 72
Eggemoggen Reach broader
than Friar’s Road
where I live
this lapping water is a nagging unease
so far from a destination
you can address
do I walk as fast as we’re sailing?
a fathom is essentially an arm span
how far the sound carries
that lawnmower
I think we’re heading the wrong direction
with someone new at the helm
how can they see ahead
from way back there?
I’m freezing
ready on the down haul
island hopping
today’s cold
except in the galley
Country roads sometimes carry imaginative monikers.
Here are some ones that stand out in my encounters:
a day centered on shades of gray
trimmed in green and faint blue
slow bell
buoy, white and red
slow bell lazy-like,
lulling slow sea
we’re sailing about 1.3 knots
three times faster than I could swim
without a current
either way
a bass in the Balkan choir has a low C securely
or lower depending on the day, so he admits
what he’s hitting today is three steps below
my best rumble
with luck
or even two, on good fortune
the singers warm up on a modal scale
those two telling flats against a major
rehearse in three locations across the state
and come together at events like the one I’m at
and then dance, in lines not quite Greek
It was a rustic summer home style in the mountains of upstate New York. Here’s how it looks in Castine, Maine.
Every morning, we had to lift anchor to get on our way. Our schooner relied on a four-person winch, plus a helper to keep the anchor chain orderly for the trip.
They’re not always knockout gorgeous around here. Not that I’m complaining.
top of the ladder
up the hatch this morning
broke out laughing
we’re in a bank of heavy fog
just like home
an hour later it’s lifting
and a decent breeze from NE kicks in
this cold fog
is a state of flight
Jnana's Red Barn 