The horse sees the barn

If you've ever ridden a horse, you know what happens when the horse sees the barn at the end of the ride. No matter how long the ride, the horse quickens it's step in anticipation of the comfortable stable and relief from the saddle and its weight.

We awoke early in Boston on Thursday, June 2 ready to head north to Maine. In a measure of conservatism, we stopped for fuel before we left Boston Harbor. I had four potential destinations programmed in the computer. The first was a Marina in the Annisquam River. This would be a protected place if the seas were rough. The next was a resort in Portsmouth, New Hampshire (Wentworth by the Sea). The third destination was Kennebunkport, Maine and the final destination was Portland, Maine our ending goal.

As we left Boston Harbor and turned Northeast we started banging through 2-3 foot seas out of the east. Not bad, but we were wondering what might happen as we passed Cape Anne. In late morning we passed Thacher Island off of Cape Anne and could turn toward Portsmouth, Kennebunkport or Portland.









We assessed the sea to make our decision. It was rough but tolerable. I put the boat on a heading for Portland and said to Linda, "Can you take four hours of this?" She said, "This isn't bad at all. Let's do it and call it a trip."

The horse had seen the barn.

I felt the same way. For the next four hours we bobbed and bounced our way to Portland. It was rough enough that we gave Olive some Benadryl to help her with the motion. The depth was 300 feet, but it didn't prevent the lobster men from placing traps. We steered through the Lobster floats as we tried to keep the boat on course for Portland. At one point we were 18 miles from shore and could barely see any land in any direction. Invictus bobbed her way through the cold water while her big diesels throbbed below.

The temperature dropped to 58 from the cold Atlantic water. The Gulf Stream had left us a long time ago. We were now in the waters of the movie "The Perfect Storm." Today was probably as calm as it ever gets. But it still took constant attention for me to keep the boat on course. The autopilot couldn't do it, so I turned to the oldest, simplest instrument on board...the compass...and steered our way to Portland.

At 3:00 p.m. We passed the Portland Head Light, America's most photographed lighthouse. I didn't recognize it because it is sheathed in scaffolding as they rebuild her from years of wear and tear. A few minutes later we were tied up at Dimillo's Yacht Haven for the night. We were really glad to be in the relatively calm waters of Portland Harbor. The tidal range is 11 feet so we were also glad to find floating docks.









Our landing here was emotional because it was the goal we had set when we planned this trip a couple of years ago. We hugged in the cockpit with tears in our eyes.

We went to dinner and Linda ordered her long-promised lobster roll. Over dinner, we reflected on our trip. We talked about the best parts and the worst parts. We marveled at the lack of boat problems. Invictus can take anything we throw at her. We also marveled at how much we learned -- about lots of different things. Boats, weather, history, dog psychology.

Most of all, we marveled at how well we had gotten along in a very small space. As one friend said to us, "You can't have a fight because there is no place to get away from each other!" This is definitely a trip that takes teamwork and we enjoyed doing it together.

So the boat trip is over. Now we will start the process of shipping the boat home and getting ourselves home. It looks like flying is cheaper than renting a car. So, the CMO is going to have another new experience...flying in a jet. Break out the Benadryl.

We've got a couple of days before the yard can lift the boat out of the water so we are renting a car to explore the greater Portland area. Hopefully, we'll also have some time to blog about what we've learned. And the CMO wants to post one more time, too.





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