The next morning, retracing our path, we left Seal Bay and headed north on East Penobscot Bay. One boat left just behind us and turned west, heading for the Fox Islands Thoroughfare. We skirted North Haven and soon were sailing at about 4 knots in fog that shifted from very limited visibility to a half mile.
It was one of those mornings when the fog was shallow and you could see the sun's glow just overhead. That lighted our spirits as well.
At one point, a gray shape appeared off our port bow and crossed our path ahead. It was a schooner, and it tacked toward us and then sailed down our port beam.
It was the Lewis R. French, launched in 1871. Soon, its form disolved in the fog off our port quarter.
After perhaps a couple of hours, the fog lifted and we began to see the islands we were passing, some bald rocks and some forested, few developed. They made you want to paint a picture.
Our leisurely sail -- it was our ninth in ten days -- brought us to Northwest Harbor on Deer Isle. Like Seal Bay, it was a well-protected anchorage with gorgeous scenery and very little reason to go ashore. There was a village with a church steeple to the south, but at low tide, you would have had to leave your dinghy far from the high-tide bank and wade ashore probably through mud.
We took a dinghy ride around the end of the harbor and past some moored boats. But then we returned to Robin for dinner, reading and another cool night of sleeping.
The sun set over the purple mountains to the west as we thought about the next day's journey -- to Castine, home of the Maine Maritime Academy, a place with facilities and restaurants.