We left Burnt Coat Harbor on another spectacular morning and, with the mainsail raised, passed a windjammer schooner that had come in after us the night before. They were about to leave as we went by. Next, we rounded the lighthouse on the point to the east and kept well clear of submerged rocks on our starboard side.
By the time we cleared the last island, we had a steady if light breeze and were able to turn off the engine.
Our destination was Stonington on Deer Island, one of the larger towns on these Maine islands. To get to Stonington, we had to traverse Deer Island Thoroughfare, which on the charts appeared to be a narrow path through dozens of islands and submerged rocks -- enough challenge for one day. The thoroughfare would take us from east to west.
But we had decided to make a lunch stop north of the thoroughfare in a long, skinny bay that the cruising gide said was a decent anchorage. So we sailed to the northwest in wind that built steadily to perhaps 12 to 15 knots.
Steadily, the breeze turned us farther and farther north, toward a rocky shore, and for simplicity sake, we took down the sails and motored into the bay.
The wind was southwesterly or perhaps westerly and, when we reached the narrow entrance to the bay -- pinched between large boulders to port and a ledge shore to the north -- the wind was blowing on Robin's nose and some velocity.
No way we were going to anchor in that stiff breeze. It was too much bother, although as always, the scenery around us was wonderful.
So we turned and left the bay, steering south toward the thoroughfare.
Again, we had to pick our way through shoal water and random rocky outcroppings, a chore made easier if not simple by the chartplotter.
The wind now was no help, blowing as it was straight at us from Stonington to the west about five or six miles.
In unknown waters, caution mixed with fear keeps your attention focused.
We had been told by the cruising guide that the municipal anchorage in Stonington was not a good option, so without trying it, we went a mile beyond the town and found a mooring at Billings Diesel and Marine on an island connected to the main island by a causeway.
After dinghying to the boatyard and paying for the night, we began walking to town. The cruising guide said the hike would be more than a mile, and so we were pleased when, approaching the boatyard property line, a lobsterman stopped his pickup and offered us a ride. He was probably our age but looked ancient, and we had a great conversation with him and later took his advice where to dine: Not the ritzy restaurant but "The Fisherman's Friend" restaurant, where the fish chowder was incredibly good.
When we headed back to Robin, we learned that our conversation with the lobsterman had blinded us to the terrain and distance we traveled to get to town. There was no taxi available in Stonington, and the hike was up and down hills through neighborhoods neither of us could remember.
In the restaurant, we had a window seat and this gave us a chance to observe a gentleman whom we had noticed before we entered the restaurant. He was sitting on the edge of the quay wearing a yellow slicker and a nautical cap. He looked homeless, with a beard as shaggy as mine, and I thought he might be trying to get tourists to take his picture for a fee. While he looked sort of salty, it was a somewhat phoney look.
Now, in the restaurant, while we waited for our food we saw that he had an old Ford van which he visited from time to time. He seemed to be cooking his dinner in the van.
When our server returned, I asked her if she knew anything about the man.
"Oh, that's Sid. He prowls through the Dumpster and feeds the seagulls," she said.
My guess about his employment was off base. He was simply a peculiar man who chose to hang out near the docks all summer long.
We determined that anchoring or taking a city mooring directly off town would have been a better option than where we had settled. But once we had hiked back to Billings and dinghied back to Robin, we passed a relaxing night aboard, ready for the next morning's adventure.