Day 39 – Riverport to Brooklyn
We motored over to the La Have Bakery for breakfast and tied up at their dock. It seemed extremely uncommon that a bakery would have a dock, much less accommodate transient vessels overnight, which they in fact do. The building housed the nominal bakery, in addition to an art gallery and a small grocery. We ate breakfast wraps on the boat before untying and heading out.
Two minke whales surfaced, in very shallow water. We drew alongside a cutter and, competitively, trimmed the sails for the last fraction of a knot. We did pass them after some time, and continued on our course six miles offshore before tacking. The next tack brought us about half the day’s sail south along the shore.
A rip had appeared along the main’s top seam, and we had to drop it and head off slightly. Rather than enduring a long upwind sail with only the genoa we coaxed the motor to life and piloted our burgeoning motorsailer upwind towards the Brooklyn Marina where we had stayed two weeks prior. We cut the corner around Coffin Island Lighthouse, a little closer than was prudent according to the depth sounder.
In the marina, another sloop pulled in behind us, three older gentlemen returning to Shelburne from Chester Race Week in Mahone Bay. We opted for dock space, and so we didn’t have to coordinate usage of the The Dingy. After dinner I went for a run. My calves let me know they had gotten used to their sailing responsibilities, protesting just a few minutes in, but the cooling evening air and surrounding forest made for a refreshing and aromatic run. I showered in the clubhouse and called Katie afterwards.
Andrew and I sat there charging our assorted electronics and quietly enjoying the internet until a local staggered in to use the bathroom. He greeted us with a thick Canadian Maritime,”What the fuck is this?”, and repeated this loudly, jokingly, four times before attempting a slurred joke about us hacking into the government.
He returned from the bathroom and sat down at the table with us. He tried to ask about our trip, it was difficult to form coherent sentences, and played with Caly, who had been sleeping at our feet. He asked if we were drinking and then offered to buy us drinks if we would drive him to the bar. He was persistent, but eventually it sunk in that we did not have a car, and he made for the door. Reaching it, and a moment of clarity, he turned to ask, “Was I wearing shoes when I came in?” An hour later when I packed up to go sleep, I spotted a lone sandal in front of the urinal. He may have been wearing a shoe when he came in.
