Maine Island Trail, Casco Bay

Day Three

We rose at dawn for vigorous paddle this day. From our campsite, we could see six miles down Harpswell Sound to Admiral Perry's pyramidal monument on Little Mark Island. Four miles past that was Halfway Rock, beyond the outer islands. Halfway Rock has loomed in my imagination since I was a little kid. On the chart of Casco Bay hanging from our wall, Halfway Rock sits in the middle of the vast blue area at the bottom. Today, I made my first plans to visit that rock.

We left by 7:30. Not far down the sound, we stopped at Dog's Head Island for a break. Nice, high bluff, well used for camping, drinking and sitting around the campfire. I'm not sure, but it has the look of a state-owned spot. Farther on, we passed a group just putting in at H2Outfitters down by the Stone Crib Bridge to Orr's Island. We got a trophy photo of Brother Dick under the bridge, and moved on, out past Perry's monument, where there was no place to land, and on to Whale Rock, the furthest out of any island before we committed to Halfway Rock.

Admiral Perry's monument, viewed over Dick's shoulder from Whale Rock

Landing on Whale Rock was an adventure. Sea waves rolled in, crashing on the seaward side, broke in surf all the way around the rocks and boulders, and met on the back side. We needed a break before the crossing, and didn't want to head back a mile or more, so we landed. I went first, paddling in between two large boulders, aimed at a patch of seaweed covered rocks the size of pumpkins and heads. It seemed my timing was all wrong, becuase suddenly there was no water at all in front of my kayak. Then, the next wave picked me up and delivered me high onto the "beach". I scrambled out, on my rubbery legs, and pulled up out of the waves. Dick had the advantage of me there to catch him and pull him up a little out of the waves.

We had lunch, tanked up on water, stretched our legs, did one last equipment check, and listened to the weather radio again. It was unusually calm, noon, great visibility. Even for us inexperienced kayakers, there seemed to be nothing stopping us. Three miles out and three miles to Jewell Island meant about 2 hours on the wide open ocean. Not so bad, really. We turned our boats around on the slippery rocks. Dick got in first and I gave him a shove. He shipped a little water, but made it fine. Then it was my turn. I got the boat in the waves, and held it, waiting for a chance to get into in. A wave came in through the funnel and I hopped in quick. The water disappeared before I got settled, but the next one lifted me again and I made my way out through the rocks.

The crossing was another adventure. Everything had conspired to make it possible and now we paddled, side by side through glassy swells, punctuated by the wake of an occasional boat. As I looked at the unbroken horizon over Bro's shoulder, it seemed as though we paddled in stasis, never moving, just paddling. To keep us in reality, there were a couple of lobster boats hauling traps among the shoals of Drunkers Ledge, and sails, way out over the horizon, only their uppers visible. We saw Monarch Butterflies crossing this big void. As I marvelled at their ability to cross such huge areas, I saw one fluttering at me, dive into the water, rise, and fall back. I passed within a few feet of it, and it lay on it's side, as though resting, but surely it was done for.

"Hey, porpoises!" shouts Dick. And sure enough, there they are, a group of three or four, leaping high in the air as they crossed the expanse. As we neared our destination, we could see hundreds of harbor seals basking in the sun. Though we tried to avoid disturbing the seals, they dove en-mass into the water. They harrassed us all the way around the island, sneaking up and splashing as they dove. We abandoned our plans to look for a landing spot, in defference to the seals.

Hal finally makes it to Halfway Rock

We rounded the rock, and rose and fell in the huge ocean swells. From the seaweeded reef, a white tower emerges. Atop the tower is a horn. From the sea-side, the horn is deafening. A large bank of solar panels powers the facility, and it looks as though it gets very little visitation. We paddled through the shoals at the south end of the reef, through the surf and the seals that surrounded us, sneaking and splashing right behind us.

We set our sights on Jewell Island, and landed on the south end, away from Smugglers Cove, known to be crowded on any midsummer weekend. It was here we found the reason why harbor seals should not be disturbed and driven into the water. A seal pup was sunning on the rocks, lost from it's mother, and too young to fend for itself. We beached in the seashell cove, and it headed for us, climbing weakly onto a nearby rock. We ate, and watched the poor seal as increasing waves of the incoming tide washed over it, finally knocking it off. We walked down the shore, and it followed at a distance, staying out in the water. Baby seals are often lost from their mothers in the confusion when the seals are scared off their sunning spots. Later, we tried to locate a help agency for the pup, but were unable to find anything closer than Tuft's in Massachusetts.

We headed back past Clif, Hope, Chebeague Islands to Cousin's where we ended our trip. A fifty mile trip in all, filled with some marvellous sights. Next year, we'll do another bay.