AUGUST 28 — Day 50 — Cape Poirpoise to York — 19 NM

 York is yet another new Harbor for us. The Cruising Guide praises its safety — once in — and its scenic and historic values, but scares off people, including me until this cruise, with the dangers of a ninety degree sharp bend being difficult in the river’s strong flood and ebb currents. The young friendly Harbor Master, Forrest, told us that as experienced sailors we should have no problem except during the two hour period of max flow, which the tide tables show was from 11am to 1 pm today. Having gone over the St John River’s Reversing Falls, with its ten minute window, this four hour window looked easy. We left at 7:05 am giving us four hours to traverse the 19 miles before eleven. 

The many lobster boats who put out to sea from Cape Porpoise before us —the earliest at 5 am — were very respectful; they did  not rev up their engines, with consequent big wakes, until after they had passed us. Thank you gentlemen!

No wind at all until we were two miles from the beginning of the entrance to the York, so it was an all diesel day. When those big wind storms blow in, as one did a few days ago, they take all the wind with them when they leave. Sunny with visibility to the horizon. 

We passed Cape Nedick, a peninsular knob of land sticking out into the Atlantic which appears totally developed. 

It has its own lighthouse.

When we got about a mile north of the buoy that marked the entrance to the York River, we saw a wall of fog rolling in from the south. We can navigate in fog; the FAA calls it “Instrument Flight Rules”. We see our boat’s position, the buoys and the land — all on the chart plotter. Yet you want to confirm the electronics by looking up from the screen for visual sighting of the actual buoys to confirm the virtual. We had 300 feet of visibility.  We made it in without problems as the fog lifted, as mysteriously as it had come, and took mooring number 2 as directed. 

We took a long walk: the fishermen’s trail, crossed the smallest suspension bridge in America,

took the trail through a forest park,

on to town and after tea, back to the harbor and the beach

Before returning to our dink at the dock that the local YC had allowed us to tie up.

That’s a name I had to look up; it is the name of the highest mountain in this area. The clubhouse is twice as long as it is wide, and specializes in teaching and kayaking. We had  no internet or cellular here on our mooring.

There was no shortage of things to do here. But with only one day in each port I did not plan well enough in advance, to maximize our experience in each port. The library, the museums, they remain for future visits. And for the second night the dockside dining was disappointing; Lene is a better cook than these folks.

The current past our mooring was so strong for the hours of max flood that they dragged our mooring ball completely underwater.