THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 1, 1995 TAG: 9509300054
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY CHRISTOPHER DINSMORE, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: HELL'S HALF-ACRE, MAINE LENGTH: Long : 150 lines
THE SUN CRESTED the horizon at 5:33 a.m., a red dot emerging from the sea between the pine-studded islands of coastal Maine.
The sun's fingerlike reflection stretched toward us across the glassy surface of the Atlantic Ocean. The 10 of us, bundled into six kayaks, stopped paddling and just watched, all in church-like silence.
And I almost missed it.
Our guide gave us an option when she woke us at 4 a.m. ``You can stay and sleep if you want to, but coffee's on,'' she said.
It was a difficult choice. But my tentmate Scott and I chose to forgo a few more hours of sleep and dragged ourselves out of our cozy cocoons for a shot at seeing the sunrise.
Praise be to guides who get up at 3:30 a.m. and make sure the coffee's hot and ready.
We were on a three-day sea kayaking and camping tour of the rocky islands around Acadia National Park in Maine. The islands are actually a former mountain range scraped down to their granite cores by 2 million years of successive ice ages.
We caught the sunrise on the second day. Besides Scott, a fellow reporter, most of the others in our crew were members of my family, including my father.
The kayak outfitting company - Coastal Kayaks of Bar Harbor, Maine - had provided us with everything but the clothes on our backs and the bags in which we slept. They also sent along Rob and Angie, our guides for the trip, who not only were aces with the sea kayaks, but knew the islands, their histories and how to whip up an awesome lobster and mussel fettuccine alfredo with sun-dried tomatoes. More on that later.
Sea kayaking itself is not very difficult. The paddling motion comes naturally, and, while a good day of paddling a kayak is work, I'd trade a day in a canoe for a day in a kayak any time. Steering is accomplished with footpedals in the rear cockpit.
We put in at Long Cove just outside the village of Sunset on Deer Isle, about an hour's drive east of the Bar Harbor tourist mecca. We were in two-person kayaks, which can be rigged with a sail if conditions are ideal.
Our most difficult paddling came early when we had to fight through the narrow mouth of Long Cove as a high tide came roaring in. In Maine the tides are huge - 12 to 14 feet where we were - and we were hardly moving by the palatial summer home with a wrap-around porch overlooking the strait.
Once we edged out of the main channel, progress came much easier. It really helps if the person you're with is also paddling.
Kayaks are tippy creatures, prone to roll over if you so much as twitch. But sea kayaks are much more stable - wider and longer, with a lower center of gravity. Neither of our guides had ever seen anyone flip one.
Our guides were in their 20s. Both were registered professionals in Maine. Rob, a third-generation guide, was a burly guy with a red goatee. He was quiet and authoritative at first, but by the second night, he was talking about the star-filled skies with the same awe as us city dwellers.
Angie was a deeply tanned blonde with well-muscled shoulders and arms from years of kayaking. She grew up around Boston, but went to college in Bar Harbor. She had a playfully sarcastic streak.
Together they handled the details and let us just soak in the scenery. And there was plenty to behold.
The islands are mostly uninhabited, but you're hardly alone on the water. There are sailboats, lobster boats and even other sea kayaks. The islands themselves come in many sizes, from a jutting rock with a single wind-stunted pine tree to a big ones with homes, roads, forests and beaches that can take all day to paddle around.
We spent the first night here on Hell's Half-Acre, a speck of an island connected at low tide by mud flats to neighboring Devil's Island. It takes 10 minutes to walk the whole pine-topped rock.
We set up our tents on a mattress of a pine needles. Scott and I found a ledge on the southeast side of the island with deep water just below it. After a few minutes of working up our courage, we jumped feet-first into the water. Bracing is one way to describe it. That far north, the water is probably no warmer than 60 degrees, even in August. We ended up jumping off the rock repeatedly.
As the tide ebbed that evening it revealed a vast ecosystem near the island's shore. There are starfish, crabs, scallops and scads of mussel beds. My father showed us how a starfish quickly rights itself when it's flipped over. Earlier in the day, as we ate lunch on a thin lick of beach not far away, a seal had checked us out from a safe distance. Only his slick head was visible above the water.
After a dinner of surprisingly good chicken burritos and a glass of wine, we bedded down early in anticipation of the sunrise.
After the awesome daybreak, we paddled back to Hell's Half-Acre for breakfast of fresh blueberry pancakes and to break camp. Everything - our clothes, sleeping bags, food - is packed into watertight PVC dry bags.
On the second day we paddled 12 miles, seeing several curious seals and ornery osprey as we wove between rocky-shored islands covered with forests of pine. Scott and I spent half the day chasing lobster boats, humming the theme to the old cop show ``Hawaii Five-O.'' When we finally caught one, a salty waterman sold us five big lobsters for $3 a pound.
Earlier, Angie had prodded us to collect about two pounds of mussels at low tide. We pull them by hand from the rocky-bottom clutches.
We ultimately landed on a grassy, wind-blown spur on the southwest end of Long Island. We could see the pink granite peaks of Acadia National Park on Mount Dessert Island across the sea channel.
The island used to have a thriving fishing community, but all that remains are a few summer homes on the developed north end and a small herd of buffalo. A previous owner of the island imported the buffalo, thinking they could better withstand the winters than cattle.
While the rest of us lounged, drinking our last cache of smuggled Scotch and smoking cigars, the guides whipped up the aforementioned pasta creation, which turned out to be one of the best meals I'd ever eaten. There's nothing like absolutely fresh seafood, especially lobster.
The following morning we woke to signs that a buffalo had visited our camp sometime during the night. Angie said that the buffalo like to lick the salt that accumulates on kayaks and gear. On a previous trip, she said, a buffalo roamed through the camp in the early morning, stopping to lick the sleeping bag of a teenager who had slept outside. The bewildered camper woke with a start and managed to startle the buffalo, too, which quickly lumbered off.
A gray sky threatened rain that last morning and the wind blew hard from the south. Successive 80-degree days had clearly come to an end. We paddled east toward Bernard Mountain in Acadia, around the southern tip of Bartlett Island, a private behemoth owned by the Rockefellers.
Turning north between Bartlett and Mount Desert islands, we hoisted the sail. In the front of the kayak, Scott held up twin lines so the sail would fill with breeze, while I enjoyed views off the humble Rockefeller village.
The sailing was slow. By the time we came within view of Black Island, our destination for lunch, I was calling it Lunch Island. From the rocky cove at the north end of Lunch, we saw our take-out point on the mainland, across a mile of open water.
The rain held off as we paddled the last stretch, wishing the trip wasn't over and remembering the sunrise, the seals, the pine-covered isles and, of course, the lobster and mussel fettuccine. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
CHRISTOPHER DINSMORE
Bleary-eyed kayakers are treated to a sumptuous sunrise during a
tour of the rocky islands around Acadia National Park.
Graphic\ ACADIAN OUTFITTERS
Here's a list of the kayaking outfitters around Acadia. Several
provide sea kayaks and guided sea kayaking tours in the vicinity of
Acadia National Park and Mount Desert Island.
Coastal Kayaking Tours Inc., (217) 288-9605. 48 Cottage St., Bar
Harbor, Maine, 04609. This is the one we used. With more than 15
registered guides and 12 years of experience, Coastal Kayaking
provides everything from sunset and half-day tours to multiday
camping trips.
National Park Sea Kayak Tours, (217) 288-0342. 137 Cottage St.,
Bar Harbor, Maine, 04609. Offers half-day morning and afternoon
trips with registered guides for $43 a person. Reservations
suggested.
Acadia Outfitters, (217) 288-8118. 106 Cottage Street, Bar
Harbor, Maine, 04609. Rents kayaks and offers half-day to full-day
tours with registered guides.
by CNB