Maine Coast adventure begins with a DVD of what to wear, what to expect

By Nancy Clark

Photo Courtesy of Sail Main Coast, photo by Fred LeBlanc

Moby Dick. Robinson Crusoe. The Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria. Pirates of the Caribbean. And don’t forget Captain Hook. There, I’ve spilled everything I know about seafaring ways and days. It’s mostly drawn from literature—some of the finest man vs. nature stories on earth; the one from a genius mind of the protégées of a man named Disney. Four months from now I will board the Schooner Heritage for a five day sail of the Maine Coast. And my limited five-star, five-diamond travel experiences have me focused on what to wear and where is the head. is a fleet of windjammers that rule the seas along the coast of Maine running each Memorial Day through to the crisp early days of October. Which brings me to my concern over what to wear. This is no bikini getaway. Nosireebob. This is a layered adventure, at least according to the brochure (which by the way looks cleverly like a pirate’s treasure map) the temps are routinely 10 degrees lower on water than on land. The days can be chilly and damp. Bring along an extra pair of slacks and dry shoes, the brochure recommends. Yee gads. I’m going to need rubber soled shoes, and that doesn’t mean flip-flops. I need the kind of footwear that keep me from going overboard in a swale. See, I’m learning already.

I’m ruminating about my ancestors. The Norwegian ones, the family of eight, who packed all of their possessions into a single trunk and left Bergen, Norway for America. They no-doubt lacked rubber soled shoes. Layers were likely a way of living in their homeland as well as on their journey to a new life. I think a rubber raincoat is in order, one with a hood like the equestrian gear out of the J. Peterman catalog that arrives in my mail every so often.

I had one once. A raincoat like that. As a college student on the East Coast it was nearly imperative in both fall and spring. Between graduation and now, so many decades later, it’s been given over to an Ann who telephoned from A.R.C. or lost after so many years of non-use in Colorado’s dry climate. Who knows where it’s gone; but it’s gone and I need a replacement. Ankle-length could transit into my life after the high seas experience…maybe that’s what I’ll get.

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