day twenty-three - small world, again

Morning comes with fog. 7:00 sail off anchor, light north wind and less fog. A half dozen tacks, gentle sailing, almost ghosting, out of the cove. Rounding the northern tip of Spruce Island, I find Mark out rowing a skiff with his dog. He lives on Spruce Island four months of the year. He points to his Contessa sloop moored nearby, and we talk about sailing the Maine coast. We talk about my slow drift across the water, going fast versus going slow, the trade off between traditional cruising boats and high-tech designs. I tell him I am very comfortable with a traditional design, don't mind being a little bit slower. "If you are not out there for the aesthetics," he says, "why are you even sailing?" He invites me to stop by on next year's sail. As I head off to the east, Mark says "Your patience will be rewarded."9:00 Pendleton Point, turn to the northeast, skies clearing but the fog seems to cling to the islands spread out across East Penobscot Bay. Wind fails, motorsailing.9:45…

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