Lessons in the Simple Life: Maine Schooner Style

On our sailing trip aboard Isaac H. Evans, an 1886 schooner, we had access to the endless outdoors: voluminous sky, sea, and islands—and stars galore. Note: Since I took this trip, the Isaac Evans was renamed the Boyd N. Sheppard, and is under new ownership).

Big water, little sky. The scenery while sailing Maine’s Penobscot Bay is spectacular. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

Yet, on a schooner, you’re confined to a small boat except for the times when it’s anchored and you debark. The reality of “tiny” hit me when I first saw our cabin; there was so little space in our bunks that we couldn’t sit up in them. We had to sort of crawl in horizontally. And only one person at a time could stand up to dress or brush their teeth. (There is a tiny sink in the cabin, which was quite convenient.)

However, over time, Ken and I wrapped our brains around the idea of “smallness,” and the bunk became a cozy haven—especially when at night we placed a hot soapstone (heated in the massive galley stove) under the covers.

Ken tucked into the lower bunk in our cabin on the Isaac Evans schooner. (Some cabins have double beds; you get a choice.) Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

I’m not saying we didn’t smack our heads a few times on the beams, but I realized how little “stuff”—and space—you need on this type of adventure.

Loo with a Shower

Having a nice hot shower in the teeny-tiny head—basically a Port-o-Potty—was also a funny lesson in “less is more.” Here’s the drill for whenever you decide it’s time to freshen up.

First, you go barefoot and wear as few clothes as possible into the shower/toilet. Then, inside the head, you stand in front of the toilet (the only place you can stand, really), undress, hang your clothes on the wall pegs, and cover them with the tiny plastic shower curtain. The four inches behind the curtain are the only part of the head that don’t get sopping wet.

Next, you grab the handheld showerhead and spray yourself with the hot water. Turn the water off (we’re always conserving water on a boat), lather up with shampoo and soap; then rinse. There’s not much elbow room, but after a couple of days, it feels wonderful to be clean.

Having a sink in the cabin was handy…but you still have to climb the ladder to get to the loo. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

Finally, you towel off, pull on your (mostly) dry clothes, and emerge smelling clean, fresh and rather victorious after having succeeded in the tiny-shower quest.

Needless to say, there are no hair-driers—unless you count the breeze.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Originally posted August 2012

15 Green Reasons to Take a Wind-Powered Schooner Trip in Maine

Choosing your transportation well is an important part of greening your vacation. On a Maine windjammer trip, the transportation—a historic, wind-powered schooner—is the vacation. As you sail past quaint lighthouses and pristine, rocky islands in Penobscot Bay, you’ll feel like a sailor of yesteryear, traveling by sea without creating carbon emissions.

The Isaac Evans sails past the Rockland Breakwater. Photo by Annie Higbee, courtesy Maine Windjammer Association

Through the Maine Windjammer Association you can book one- to six-night sails aboard 13 historic tall ships. Some cruises have a special focus—lighthouses, pirate adventures, photography, knitting, stargazing, food and wine, family trips.

But regardless of the type of trip, you’ll have plenty of time to enjoy the views and feel the breeze without a noisy engine or gasoline fumes to spoil the experience. (However, schooners have motor-powered yawl boats to push the ship on windless days.)

Sailing, Sailing

My husband and I sailed for four nights aboard the 1886 ship Isaac H. Evans (now renamed the Boyd N. Sheppard and under new ownership) a National Historic Landmark. We arrived, settled into our cabin—teensy but cozy—and Captain Brenda Thomas and her crew oriented us 18 passengers to life aboard a ship. When we set sail, we glided along like magic. No worries about seasickness here.

A schooner trip is a little like camping on water—no need for fancy clothes, just a mix of foul-weather gear for rain and a swimsuit for hot days when you feel like diving into the clear ocean water.

Here are just a few excellent reasons to sign aboard one of these beautiful sailing ships for a unique Maine getaway:

  1. Be the captain. Take the helm and learn how to steer the ship.
  2. Kids have a blast. Regardless of your age, you’ll learn something about maritime history and be enchanted by life at sea. (Not all ships take children; the Isaac H. Evans specializes in family trips.)
  3. Help hoist the sails: Lend a hand with the sails and anchor.
  4. Learn sailor lingo. After a day or two, you’ll be throwing around terms like “fore,” “aft,” “bow,” “stern,” and “jib” like a pro.
  5. Be entertained as porpoises and seals frolic around the boat.
  6. Feast on fresh-baked lobster on the beach.
  7. Sit on deck and watch as the pine-covered islands drift by.
  8. Row ashore small islands and explore them on foot.
  9. Explore picturesque fishing villages.
  10. Eat heartily. Menu highlights include blueberry pancakes, fish chowder and cornbread, crab-stuffed haddock, fresh green salads, homemade strawberry-rhubarb pie.
  11. Enjoy the peace and quiet of traveling “unplugged.” No TVs, phones or computers on this vacation!
  12. Master the art of coiling lines so they don’t tangle.
  13. Ask the captain to tell some sailor’s tales. Captain Brenda Thomas can recount stories of notorious female pirates!
  14. Spot loons, gulls, osprey and other sea birds through the ship’s binoculars.
  15. Watch the moon rise over the water as the ship is anchored in a quiet cove.

Crew member Aiden Ford takes a break from her sailing duties on the Isaac H. Evans. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

P.S. The crew of the wind-powered Isaac H. Evans is eco-conscious. They recycle everything, collect food scraps and give them to a local pig farmer, and practice Leave No Trace principles when visiting islands. They even encourage guests to collect any trash they see, leaving islands cleaner than when they came. When you spend as much time outdoors as these sailors do, you learn to appreciate and protect nature.

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Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Originally posted August 2012


 

Four Days Before the Mast: Adventure on a Maine Schooner

 

The Isaac H. Evans under sail. Photo courtesy Maine Windjammer Association

“Camping on the water.” That’s how the website describes a sailing trip aboard the Isaac H. Evans, a historic schooner that departs from Rockland, Maine’s harbor and sails around Penobscot Bay. On board are 20 lucky passengers—including me and my husband—and we’re in for a historic sailing experience.

Note: Since I took this trip, the Isaac Evans was renamed the Boyd N. Sheppard, and is under new ownership).

The Evans was built in 1886 for oyster-catching and hauling, but nowadays it’s outfitted with small bunk rooms with electric lights. For four days in early June, it was home to me and Ken. We were keen on doing an unplugged, historic sail—a unique way to have a vacation. (Trips range from just overnight to a week in length; we chose the four-night adventure.)

Owned by Captain Brenda Thomas and her husband Brian, also a captain, the Isaac Evans is wind powered, although the gasoline-powered yawl boat—aptly named Tug ’n Grunt—pushes the boat when the wind dies. So not only do we get to enjoy an experience from days long past, but schooner sailing is eco-friendly too: very low carbon emissions. For more on this, see “15 Reasons to Take a Wind-Powered Schooner Trip in Maine.”

All Hands on Deck

On the morning we leave Rockland Harbor, Phil Bidwell, our first mate, instructs passengers on how we can help the crew of five to raise the sails. Helping out with the sailing is completely optional—but learning about sailing is half the fun! So, we all pitch in and line up along the rope lines to raise the giant mainsail, which is surprisingly heavy. We were advised in advance to bring gloves to keep from getting rope burns from the thick rope, which furiously whips through our palms.

Guests help the ship’s crew hoist the sails. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

Once all the sails are up, we glide along so smoothly that I can hardly feel the movement. As the crew bustles around, we watch as the lighthouse passes by. Twenty minutes after setting sail, two porpoises swim in tandem along the starboard side.

Already on the first day, I realize the pleasures of living on a historic boat: watching seabirds patrol for fish, seeing seals snoozing on rocky islands, gliding into quiet coves, skimming across the water, having your morning coffee on deck as the sun rises over the forested island hills.

There are other schooners to watch as well. We’re lucky enough to be part of the Maine Windjammer Association’s Schooner “Gam”: a rendezvous of all the ships in the association. So on our first day, we see a dozen other schooners sailing on the horizon—all heading to our meeting point in Gilkey Cove.

Schooners, I discover, are gloriously graceful with their angled sails, their sleek lines, and their slim prows. And, because she’s mostly made of wood, iron and brass, the Isaac Evans has an organic, living, breathing quality. I can see why our crew is passionate about what they do—even though they work super hard for long hours.

For the Love of Schooners

For Ken and me, the charm of the schooner sail is the relaxation and slow-down factor. It’s the sort of vacation where you can leave behind the 21st century for a simpler time. It’s amazing how quickly we forget about electronics and world events and just slip into a rhythm of the sun and moon, wind and tides.

Mostly, our daily routine centers around meals—which are incredible. Our cook, Wally, coaxes fresh-baked culinary delights from the belly of a 1905 cast-iron stove they call Glenna. (The stove is a Glenwood brand.) To give you an idea of the good eats, here’s a sampling of our saliva-stimulating menus over the four days: Maine blueberry pancakes, lobster quiche, fresh fish chowder and cornbread, haddock stuffed with crab, pork loin and biscuits, and strawberry rhubarb pie.

Wally is assisted by deckhand Aiden, a 17-year-old young woman who really knows the ropes—she’s been sailing since she was a little kid. For activity, there’s swimming, fishing, and rowing to uninhabited islands and hiking their rocky shores — but nobody minds if you lounge on deck and watch lighthouses drift by.

All of us passengers—even the kids—got to take a turn at the boat’s helm. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

Outdoor Living on a Historic Schooner

What I love most about my schooner sail on the Isaac H. Evans is the ocean and being in nature. As a landlocked Coloradoan, I can never get enough of the ocean. If I don’t get to the sea at least once a year, I feel bereft. And the ships of the Maine Windjammer Association make a total oceanic adventure possible. (Because the weather was cool and rainy for two days of the sail, the water was too chilly for me to literally immerse myself in the salty waves. Wading had to suffice.)

The flip side of our outdoor sailing experience can be dealing with foul weather. We contended with almost two days of rain and cold, and spent them huddled around the woodstove in the bunk area or helping the cook in the toasty-warm galley. On one particularly blustery night, our group of sailors gathered around the table, swapped stories, sang songs, and got to know each other better.

Luckily, Ken and I had brought our long underwear and wool hats—I had even purchased some Wellies for my feet (very little call for them in dry Colorado!)—yet still there were times when I was cold during this sail in early June.

During our four-day excursion, we learned to follow our course on the nautical chart, furl the sails, hoist the anchor and coil the ropes. Though purely optional, playing sailor is half the fun. Even mundane chores — vegetable chopping, dishwashing — are more fun at sea.

And to top off the excitement—and clinch the authentic Maine experience—there’s a lobster bake on the beach of a pretty little island. (More on that in a later post!)

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and erstwhile sailor

Next post: “Lessons in the Simple Life: Maine Schooner Style”

The Isaac H. Evans  is a member of the Maine Windjammer Association (MWA), a fleet of more than a dozen schooners built in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Some are a bit fancier than others; a few have engines to fill in with sail power. Some do not take children under 16.

MWA schooner trips last from two to six days, sometimes include special themes. For instance, the Isaac H. Evans offers cruises with live music, knitting, pirate adventures, puffin excursions, lighthouse spotting, photography and full-moon night sailing.

Maine Windjammer Association members “raft up” for the annual Schooner Gam in Maine’s Penobscot Bay. Photo © Laurel Kallenbach

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Originally posted in August 2012

Drive Oregon’s Tasty “Fruit Loop” in the Hood River Valley

Oregon’s fruit basket, the Hood River Valley, overflows with bounty: fruit orchards, vineyards, mountain vistas. Just an hour’s drive east of Portland, the area is ideal for an agritourism getaway. (The town of Hood River is also a mecca for windsurfing and kiteboarding.)

Hood River County’s Fruit Loop is a drive through orchards and farms at the foot of Mt. Hood. ©Laurel Kallenbach

My first taste of Oregon fruit was delivered years ago in a box of apples sent as a gift by my boyfriend’s parents—now my in-laws—who live in the town of Hood River. Each apple, nestled in its cardboard bed, was an emissary from this Land of Plenty. Biting into a crisp McIntosh, Pippin or Gravenstein, I could taste the verdant valley from a thousand miles away.

A pesticide-free pear along The Fruit Loop ©Laurel Kallenbach

Planted with 15,000 acres of fruit trees, the Hood River Valley extends from the base of Mt. Hood, an 11,235-foot volcanic peak, to the Columbia River. This 20-mile swath of fertile land claims the titles “Apple Center of Oregon” and “Winter Pear Capital of the World.”

During summer and fall, roadside stands along sections of Highways 35 and 281, known as The Fruit Loop, offer fresh-picked fruit—peaches, pears, apricots, apples, strawberries, raspberries, cherries, melons and blueberries—along with canned and preserved fruit, nuts, pies and baked goods.

Fruits of the Valley

Whenever we visit in summer, my husband and I love to ramble the farm-lined roads, stopping at fruit stands when a colorful sign beckons us to sample the fruit du jour. Over the years, we’ve wandered many portions of The Fruit Loop, a self-guided 45-mile path of scenic highway that leads through the valley’s orchards, vineyards, forests and farmlands. Along the way, we usually stop at one of the many emerging vineyards for a wine tasting. (Pheasant Valley Winery is one of our favorites, and its vintages are made from organic grapes.)

Picking strawberries right from the field is an economic way to get the freshest, ripest fruit. ©Laurel Kallenbach

A charming alpaca farm is fun for kids—and for knitters like my mother-in-law who craves alpaca yarn. During mid-summer and fall, the fruit stands are packed with just-picked fruit and veggies, as well as eggs and homemade jams and pies. At McCurdy Farms, pears grow inside bottles attached to the tree branches to create Eau de Vie de Poire (pear brandy in a bottle).

For a hands-on fruit experience, we often spend a morning at one of the many organic “U-Pick” fields, where ripe cherries, apples, pears and berries are just waiting to be plucked from branches and bushes.

Fresh Oregon strawberries ©Laurel Kallenbach

This summer, our whole family went out and picked buckets of blueberries—then we went home and cooked blueberry pancakes for lunch, which we topped with more blueberries.

Somehow fruit always tastes better and fresher when you’ve picked it yourself.

You can find a map of the self-guided farm-stand tour at the Portland airport or in restaurants and stores around the town of Hood River. More information is also available at the Fruit Loop website.

Laurel Kallenbach, freelance writer and editor

Originally posted September 7, 2013

Views of Mt. Hood make the The Fruit Loop a dramatic drive. ©Laurel Kallenbach