Matt gets ready for a day on the high seas with a little sunscreen.

I paddled out past Mackinak Island where the Baxter School for the Deaf is located. I soon found that a large sandbar extends southward quite a ways at low tide. I nearly paddled all the way to East End before I could cross to Great Diamond Island. I passed Halfway Rock and then crossed the main channel. There was no passage between Great Diamond and Little Diamond at this tide so I paddled south around the tip of Little Diamond. One particularly bold cormorant swam just five feet off my side, giving me a chance to study one of these sea birds up close. Just as interesting was Fort Gorges in the background, a wartime fortress that occupies the entirety of the island and so looks as if it rises straight from the sea.

Anyway, I rounded north into the passage between Peaks Island and Great Diamond. The waves were calm and I snapped open a cold Heinie for the relaxing stretch between rocks and docks of the island folk. I found that a sandal, slipped under the deck bungees makes a great drink holder. Hey, that's me, always thinking. As I began to round the north end of the island, I came to Pumpkin Knob, where there was a heck of a current coming in from the ocean.

The sea breathes up and down at the edge of open.

I soon came to Vaill Island. Vaill is a tiny little spit of sand, rock and shrubbery between Long Island and the open ocean. As I approached from the south, I passed between rock outcrops and entered a little amphitheater of white sugary sand and smooth warm rocks. I've never seen such sand anywhere in the bay.

A quick barefooted explore revealed that the beach was limited to this little cove and the rest of the island was jagged rock. At the top of the beach there was a lush and impenetrable 4 foot high wall of poison ivy. The remains of an old campfire were nestled between the high tide mark and the greenery. A sign, indicating fire permits were needed, told me this was public land.

Outside the beach, the wind blew sea spray across the weathered rocks. Dozens of lobster traps lay broken among the flotsam. Inside the amphitheater, it was a different world; bees buzzed lazily through the still air. I wasted no time climbing out of my wetsuit, as the mid-day was quite a bit warmer than when I started. This was the perfect spot for a lunch break. I lounged, looked across the water at another beach on Long Island, tiny figures moving back and forth. I snapped open my other beer.

Solitude on Vaill Island.

I spent over an hour with my lunch, my journal, my reveries. But as nice as it was, it was time to leave this little paradise and continue the trip. I wasn't even half done with this 12 mile trip. A quick paddle around the island revealed there was indeed no other landing. The outside of Long Island enjoys ocean swells confused by reflecting waves. You know you're in the wide open here. Inhospitable rock faces give way to welcoming coves. I set a lazy pace and worked my way through the shoals and rock gardens, avoiding the lobster boats which seemed to be everywhere. Out to sea I could see Outer Green and it was host to fishing boats and pleasure boats. It seemed so close I wanted to take a detour, as well as out to Cliff Island where I know there's hiking trails from the beach. But today I'm on a solo trip and will stick to the itinerary I left at home.

As a concession to safety, I'm even using my paddle leash for the first time ever. It's a bungee cord attaching the paddle to the boat so if I drop it, it won't blow away or something. Too bad I didn't think of wearing my nose clip during the wavy section. It was, after all, right there in my pocket.

Anyway, out there on the horizon, more gray silhouettes of ships and boats seemed to sit motionless. An amazing number of people seem to spend a lot of time out there. Where are they now? How come we never meet them on dry land? Aliens?

Around the tip of the island and I was back on familiar turf. I paddled across Chandler Cove and hit the beach at Little Chebeague for a pit stop. This place allows camping and even has rest rooms. I finished off my lunch and prepared for the final leg back to Cousins Island, where I sit and plan my explorations just like Admiral Perry. Being high tide, I crossed the sand bar and headed straight across the open water to the south end of Cousins, rounded the point and headed through calm waters back to the house. In all, a good four hours of paddling and just a taste of adventure. Now how did I get sunburnt there?