Maine

Andy and I took a trip to Maine for the week before fall classes started.  This was a new state for me - now I'm down to 6/50 (Vermont, New Hampshire, Idaho, Oregon, Alaska, and Hawaii) not yet seen.  Maine reminded me of the other 'M' states I've lived in - Minnesota and Michigan - probably mostly due to the trees.  And the cool summer temperatures!  

It looks like someone is taking care of the 1858 barn.  Unlike some of the other barns we saw throughout the countryside. 

We went on an informal, self-guided winery tour with Andy's family.  This is part of Clem's little vineyard at Younity Winery.  He makes all kinds of wines, including blueberry, elderberry, and rhubarb. 

The flowers (Liatris) outside of the Savage Oaks Winery were buzzing with bees.  There were also pigs out back adding to the country sounds.  This vineyard and winery also produces grassfed beef and pork.  

Sweetgrass Winery had this nice truck, old-fashioned sled and cross-country skis on the wall, and (I thought) the best wines of all the places we went.  They also had beautiful, bright sunflowers!  

Looking back towards the Duck Trap River at low tide - barely looks like there's a river back there.  The tides are extreme here in the Penobscot Bay.  It is wise to either stay with your boat or pull it well onto shore, well beyond what you may think is necessary, to avoid a frigid swim when the tide comes in.  

We kayaked north from Duck Trap up the shore and around a point (on left in photo below), where Andy's sister spotted a seal.  It followed her as she paddled back towards us, and generally seemed to be hanging around (or maybe it was wondering why we were hanging around), checking us out as it popped its head up every now and again.  

http://www.nmfs.noaa.gov/pr/species/mammals/pinnipeds/harborseal.htm

There are lobster trap buoys everywhere - hanging from ceiling fan pull chains, on the walls of restaurants, in every tourist shop, and of all places ... on the water marking a lobster trap!  

 We eventually left our seal friend and paddled south, back across Duck Trap harbor in a brisk breeze towards lunch in Lincolnville.  It's wonderful sailing up here - the home of WoodenBoat is almost directly across the bay and a smidge south from Lincolnville.  Every day at any harbor we were near, there were sails dotting the bay.  There are no oyster bars to contend with - a small, maybe 14', wooden sailboat was displayed for sale along the highway with a keel deeper than the depth of the hull itself - sailing that on the gulf coast would be a tricky proposition!  

We also took a short hike on a peninsula of a lake (I forgot the name).  The open, rocky overlook was covered with scrubby low-bush blueberries (we were too late in the season for any wild harvesting) and iconic white pines.  

In which we make friends.

Went canoeing on the Santa Fe where a dragonfly befriended us.  It hitched a ride on the gunnel for quite a ways.  
Saw one alligator and one horde of Southerners embarking on a raft of tubes just as a thunderstorm was blowing in.  

Vegetable update: peppers are finally growing.  We had a scare with the first flowers - after blooming they just gave up on life and fell off the plant.  Unsure if they had not been pollinated or if they were over-watered, Andy undertook the job of a bee and pollinated the remaining flowers with a tissue and we stopped watering (it's been raining a lot).  



Something worked or the pepper just decided it was time to make fruit, because now we have several peppers growing quickly.  Jimmy Nardello above and poblano below.  

The bird's eye pepper is more prolific than ever - every level of branching is blanketed by little peppers, flowers, and buds.  This pepper constantly has ants crawling all over it.  I think they are pollinating the flowers.  There is a wasp that likes to hang out on the two bigger peppers, but we have never seen it visit a flower - it must be predatory.  

The cucumbers have been ruthlessly thinned - down to 6 plants plus Petunia, Andy's "special" cucumber that he transplanted during thinning.  The remaining plants are growing like crazy, but haven't put out any flowers yet.    

Tonight we eat our first eggplant.  Alfred feels like an old friend after having watched him and his nose grow and grow.  (The white streaking is from dipel dust running down after a rain - we had problems with caterpillars a couple weeks ago).  

In the backyard, we pulled wild muscadine vines down from the trees and strung them along a clothesline.  There are not many grapes on the vines, but I'm sure the few we do have will be tasty assuming we can get to them before the raccoons do.  

Meanwhile on land...

...we have food growing.  I planted this "galine" eggplant back in Tallahassee and moved the pot down with me.  

It recently began blooming and now we have a baby eggplant growing, along with many more flowers opening up for pollination. 

Andy brought this basil - there are actually three of them in the pot, but two were just cut way back since they were getting leggy.  The flowers are attracting tiny ants and wasps.  We haven't seen any bees yet.  

We raked back the red mulch that the landlord had dumped on top of everything in the front bed, tore out the bits of grass growing, added mushroom compost, leveled the bed, and planted "lemon" cucumber seeds.  Almost 100% germination, thinned them a bit today.  

Andy's bird's eye pepper is flowering and fruiting like crazy!  A little hard to see in this bright picture, but there's a white flower towards the left and little green oval fruits at the top of several stems.  We also planted a poblano pepper and a Jimmy Nardello (sweet) pepper. 

And in the back is a patch of "delectable" corn.  These seeds also had close to 100% germination, underwent some thinning today, and are growing quickly.  

5-28.

Last day in Tallahassee. Sailing at Dickerson Bay. Wind, high tide, my favorite person, fiddler crabs, horseshoe crabs, a cormorant, a butterfly, sun, warm water, sand. 

We tacked away from the landing until we reached the grassy beach where our maiden launch party stopped to eat lunch last September.  

We went for a swim, then sat on a sandy patch of beach where we encountered a pretty white butterfly. 

After much convincing that we wouldn't capsize or get lost at sea, Andy took the helm on the way home.  We let the sail out and moseyed back to the landing under light winds.    

Now there's a tropical storm covering Florida, and the rain is very welcome, watering in our newly planted cucumber and corn seeds.  Glad I had a last sunny sailing day before moving! 

4-28.

The day before finals week is obviously the best day to go sailing.  And it was a great day for sailing!  My dad and I tested the Swan in the windiest conditions she's seen yet and she did quite well.  I don't know if I've mentioned it in a previous post, but one slight flaw is that water sloshes in through the centerboard case when she's moving at a good clip and the centerboard is all the way down.  If you raise the centerboard just a bit, the incoming water generally abates.  Today we took a few waves over the gunnel to add to the water from the centerboard; nothing to worry about, just enough to keep our feet cool.  

Videos from today:

Swan Sailing Pelicans

Swan Sailing Big Wave  I was a little concerned there was going to be a man overboard while my dad was filming this one.  He was leaning back, sitting on the deck, with one hand on the camera and one hand (occasionally) around the mast.  When we hit a few bigger waves, he was looking a little precarious, but he's an old salt and remained on board!  

Swan Sailing Centerboard Up and Sail Out!  

Swan Sailing Bow Wave

I dropped Daddy off at the beach and made some passes so he could take pictures and video.  High tide allowed me to sail close to shore without scraping the bottom.  

We practiced a jibe today, and experimented with tacking.  The boat has a tendency to stall as the bow comes into the wind, unable to finish coming about.  We tried letting the sail way out as we started to tack, which seemed to work better than pulling the tiller hard to the wrong side to steer backwards.  It also helped to push the boom over as we came into the wind to force the sail to pick up wind and finish the tack.  

I can already feel the wave motion in my body before even laying down.  Guess I'm tired after a fun day.  I have to make up for lost study time tonight, though.  Biochem will be a rocking good time...  

4-21.

We had a breezy day for sailing on Kelli's birthday.  Took the Oystercatcher and the Swan down to the lighthouse.  Instead of heading out past the channel into the Gulf like we usually do, the wind was right to head up the East River.  We were actually able to sail out of the canal.  We stayed to the edge or just outside of the channel as much as possible as there were lots of motor boats out speeding by, and stayed clear of all oysterbars!  Saw one bald eagle sitting on a bar, but he flew away before we got in photo range.  

Joe and Kelli both took a turn at the tiller.  In my boat there was a mutiny and Mom started calling herself "Captain."

Although the wind never seems to be consistent on our gulf coast, it was blowing enough most of the time for us to have some fun and actually sail!  We were really only becalmed once, after which we were hit by a gust and my mom exclaimed "we're tipping over!"  Proof is in the photos that we were nowhere close to tipping over!  Rather, we were sailing.  

A photograph being photographed.  The Oystercatcher overtook us to do a photo shoot of the Swan for a picture to send to WoodenBoat's launchings, finally.  

And here's the Oystercatcher as they passed us:  

I think the Drascombe looks like a pirate ship. Its crew was friendly enough, though.  

To watch a video of the Swan sailing go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4AxBV0rGrk&feature=youtu.be

When we got back to the canal, we had to row in, and the no-see-ums were atrocious!  Wish we could have stayed out on the water longer... 

Goodbye Loons

Went down to the lighthouse at St Marks this morning to wish the loons a safe trip north.  They're migrating back to their northern breeding grounds - my old stomping grounds - Minnesota, Michigan, Wisconsin, Canada... 

My dad and I drove down to the coast before dawn, met up with Dr. Paul Spitzer, who is working on a study of Common Loon migration, and helped him count birds as they flew north. 

Today was not a big morning, we had some lulls where we listened to soras whinnying, black-bellied plovers calling, watched cormorants and herons flying off their roosts, a raccoon foraging in the mud flats, an eagle fly over, and waterfowl coming and going as the sun rose.  When we did spot loons, they were often high above the horizon, having gained altitude during their flight towards the coast from out in the Gulf.  They flap their wings 3 times a second and have a distinctive profile in the air - their legs sticking out beyond their short tail.  They are water birds, heavily boned for swimming and diving, not exactly graceful fliers, but they manage a long migration.  They don't fly in a v pattern like geese or ducks, but rather alone or within a short distance from one or two other loons.  A few birds passed by only to turn and head back south, aborting the mission for some reason only they know - weather conditions not prime, flight muscles not quite ready?  

Mosquitoes came out for a short window, but had dispersed by the time the sun was up.  The wind was steady from the south, and before 9, a cloud bank had moved in, threatening rain.  By then the morning count was finished.  Migration will continue until around April 10.  By then most of the birds that should have left will have left.  

I hope the loons have a productive season on the lakes of the northwoods, enchanting so many paddlers with their yodels, wails, and tremolos, the chicks parading on the adults' back, and their sheer beauty, and I look forward to their return south next fall as the lakes begin to freeze over.