Lighthouses, lighthouses!

We saw fourteen and toured two during our lighthouse cruise earlier this month, topped off with an exciting parade in the company of a dozen schooners.

Here are some of the ones we've seen from the American Eagle this season so far.

Little River Light, Cutler

On our Downeast trip in June we again enjoyed an open house at Little River Light in Cutler.  No visit there should go without reading "It's Brasswork," a poem written by Little River lightkeeper Fred Morong.  Schooner crews can identify with his sentiments in fourteen verses.

IT'S BRASSWORK

Oh what is the bane of a lightkeeper's life

That causes him worry, struggle and strife,

That makes him use cuss words and beat on his wife?

It's BRASSWORK

What makes him look ghastly consuptive and thin,

What robs him of health, vigor and vim,

And causes despair and rives him to sin?

It's BRASSWORK

The devil himself could never invent,

A material causing more world wide lament,

And in Uncle Sam's service about ninety percent

It's BRASSWORK

The oil containers I polish until

My poor back is broken, aching and still,

Each gallon, each quart, each pint and gill

Is BRASSWORK

I lay down to slumber all weary and sore,

I walk in my sleep, I awake with a snore,

And I'm shining the knob on my bedchamber door

That BRASSWORK

From pillar to post rags and polish I tote,

I'm never without them, for you will please note,

That even the buttons I wear on my coat,

Are BRASSWORK

The machinery, clockwork, and fog signal bell,

The coals hods, the dustpans, the pump in the well,

No I'll leave it to you mates...If this isn't...well,

BRASSWORK

I dig, scrub and polish, and work with a might,

And Just when I get it all shining and bright,

In come the fog like a thief in the night,

Goodbye BRASSWORK

I start the next day when noontime draws near,

A boatload of summer visitors appear,

For no other reason than to smooch and besmear,

My BRASSWORK

So it goes all summer, and along in the fall,

Comes the district machinists to overhaul,

And rub dirty paws all over,

My BRASSWORK

And again the spring, if per chance it may be,

An efficiency star is awarded to me,

I open the package and what do I see?

More BRASSWORK

Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud,

In the short span of life that he is allowed, 

If all the lining in every dark cloud,

Is BRASSWORK

And when I have polished until I am cold,

And I have taken my oath to the Heavenly fold,

Will my harp and my crown b e made of pure gold?

No!  BRASSWORK

Winter Harbor

Egg Rock, Frenchman Bay

Moose Peak on Mistake Island near Jonesport

How we got there

Petit Manan Light Its original first order Fresnel lens is on display at the Lighthouse Museum here in Rockland.

Bald eagle sightings have been a daily event this summer.  Not to be outdone, ospreys have been seen twice carrying squirrels.  And I thought they only caught fish. 

Bringing down sail  --courtesy of Janna Graber & Ben Rader

Go World Travel article, Sailing in Maine: Windjammer Cruise on the American Eagle 

To anchor before exploring Russ Island

Fun aboard underway in Spring weather

Down East Solstice

Crew's News

July and August are big yacht months here in Maine.  

At 185 feet on deck, the Atlantic,  is about as big as they come.  She is a 2010 replica of the 1903 yacht that set the speed record across the Atlantic in 1905.  

The original Atlantic  photo courtesy of Yachtpals.com

The original vessel was scrapped in 1982; part of her teak rail is in my office at home.  Her best days sail averaged 14.1 knots.

This oyster died of old age a long time ago in Gilkey Harbor, Islesboro --courtesy of our working anchor

Drawings instead of postcards  

Whats better than a postcard? A drawing through the watertight door of the galley, complete with stove!

courtesy of Charlene Mackiewicz

From the galley

Triple B:  baked brie and blueberries