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