Our every noise was magnified as it echoed off the low hills. When we weighed anchor, the chain coming in over the roller sounded like a dump truck unloading a load of stone. Sorry birds.
With only a few more miles to go and all day to do it, we had a really nice day of sailing for the pleasure of it. The wind was still slightly unfavorable for our course, so we enjoyed making long tacks from one island to another, disappearing into the fog in between. Along the way, we called out pots to one another as we weaved through the fields.
As we sailed through the Western Way toward Southwest Harbor, the fog lifted to a higher layer of stratus drizzling ever so slightly and the wind slowed and fell astern. The tide was just beginning to flood and we soon found ourselves gliding silently up Somes Sound past beautiful, stately homes, most of which still looked closed awaiting summer.
Sailing up Somes Sound, and reaching Somes Harbor - our home for a few days
At the northern end of the sound, in Somes Harbor, we found ourselves in the company of hundreds of moorings, but so far only two other boats. We were able to find good holding for our anchor ahead of the field not too far from the public dinghy dock. Our timing was good, however, and the weather held off pouring rain again and blowing hard until we were safely at anchor and inside. Even through the next wave of miserable weather, it was hard not to feel lucky. This place is so beautiful, even in the rain, perhaps (a little) because of it. We fired up the heat, Maryanne made a big batch of potato soup, and we spent the evening sharing a bottle of wine and reading to each other.