Peaks Island....so Pretty but Portland....so Painstaking

Much like its neighbour Nova Scotia, Maine’s shoreline is scattered with long deep bays.  Departing from Riggs Cove we sailed back out the five miles of Sheepscot Bay we had come in on.  Once past Cape Small, the outermost point of land on the south side of the bay, we entered the 16 mile wide mouth of the Casco Bay en route toward Portland.  Portland Harbour is sheltered in behind Peaks Island, our destination.  We knew of a small mooring field just off the west side of the island, about a 30 minute passage from it to the port of Portland.  The entry from the sea into Portland is a tedious approach.   We passed Cape Elizabeth 2 miles southeast and then steered northwest at Pine Tree Ledge for another 2 miles to get to the entrance of the channel in.  There we saw Portland Head Light, the oldest lighthouse in Maine completed in 1791.  We traveled another mile and half to Outer Green Island for  Whitehead Passage leading into the harbour.  In behind the next point of land called Indian Head Rock the bay opens again.  We entered in behind Ram Island light to the cove just off Portland to catch a mooring ball on Peaks Island. 

Bridlewilde's mast visible mid pic....Portland harbour in background

Peaks Island is part of Portland but we were told by the residents there that they believe they are their own autonomy.  The flavour of the place is completely different from the city by far…certainly they do have an island mindset.  We dinghied ashore to talk with locals, get some supplies at the Island Market and visit the library for wifi.  We went to the local police station to garner information about checking in to the country and use their telephone.  We were aware that we had to purchase a US cell number for our phone but we had not yet been in a convenient location to connect to any package. Our phone was not active.

It was election day in America. We had been in the U S of A for over a week.  Like an entry to any country in the world, one must pass through customs. So is it when one arrives by boat.   When we first arrived, in Carvers Harbour, Keith discussed this matter with the US Coast Guard to determine as to where we should report in there.  He was informed that because we had arrived under duress, due to a health issue, the custom requirement was not required.  He was also told not to worry about it as we could report into customs in Portland and pick up our required cruising permit there.

The Peaks Island police department were a great help.  The fellows were very helpful but way too busy to concern themselves with us; they were intent on watching election results discussion on the staff room television so we were placed at a desk in their office to take care of our business with customs. Likewise the customs officers were busy with the election results but asked us to meet three of their officials at their custom dock in Portland in two hours. We were given specific instructions to the location and direction concerning the vessel. We agreed and left on the boat in enough time to reach their dock by the scheduled time.

After crossing the bay, we scoured the harbour for the location of the customs dock that we were instructed to arrive at.  The police had given us access to their computer where we could clearly see the location of the dock on Google Maps. However, the dock was non-existent when we arrived at the location.  We weaved back and forth across the harbour wondering what information we had taken down incorrectly.  Surely, with the level of security heightened in this country and the border protection that was being discussed over the past year, we had misstepped somewhere. Now it was well past half of an hour of our specified meet time.  It was not until the captain identified three individuals in uniform frantically waving from a small dock on shore, far from our destination point I might add, that we decided they may be the customs personnel we were to meet.  We pulled the boat into the very tight floating dock amidst the ocean liners, trawlers and fishing vessels and threw our lines to the uniformed officials there awaiting our arrival.

This dock was owned by the city.  There were huge signs posted stating that there was a strictly enforced minimum free tie up time of two hours for transients such as us.  The customs officials identified themselves and told us that they were unaware of the fact that their dock had been previously removed for the winter and hailed us into this one.  It was expected that we were confused. Our trolling the waterfront looking for their pier confirmed the confusion.  They had asked for our vessel information during the telephone call from the police station, saw the Canadian flag display we had flying and were confident we were the vessel to wave in.  Once all the stressors were settled, the customs officers asked to see our passports, asked a couple of questions and we were done.  There was no boat inspection, as is customary; there was no review of all our ship documentation as is customary, nor any proof of our itinerary that we had been told was required for presentation.  We actually had to inquire of them if they would provide the cruising permit that we be required to obtain to cruise south.  It was determined that the certificate could be provided but no one had thought to bring the documentation with them. It would be necessary for us to go to their office to pick it up. It would be provided with no hesitation.  We thanked them and asked directions to their office.  There was no offer for us to travel back to the office in their vehicle.  After explaining a few facts about check in policies, they exchanged goodbyes with pleasantries and were on their way.

Considering the ``strictly enforced  `` timeframe notation signage right in front of us and no quick access to  rental car or bus transportation, we walked up the gangplank into the downtown core and hailed a cab. The cab driver chatted to us about the city, her strong political views, and discussed the fact that she did not know the names of some of her fourteen grandchildren, a fact that did not bother her at all.  Upon arrival at the customs office we were greeted by the same three individuals who had come to our boat.   We could hear election discussions on news stations broadcasting from the back offices they emerged from.  The $20 permit fee was kindly waived considering our lengthy trip to the office.  We did appreciate that.  After the seventy dollar dispense for the cab transport, we walked back down the harbour gangplank with the cruising permit we needed in hand, boarded our boat, totally legal and prepared to move forward, thankful that Bridlewilde remained secured to the dock. She had not been towed out of the city public dock for overstaying her welcome.  We had arrived back to her within the nick of time.

As the captain slipped our boat back onto our mooring ball at sunset,  in the lovely quaint Peaks Island cove, just minutes away, I remarked to him that it appeared to me that whatever the rationale behind the island residents`  desire for autonomy, it may not be unfounded.  The following morning Bridlewilde wound her way through the outer islands of Portsmouth Harbour, as we meandered south again.