Stella goes for it through Lubec Narrows.

 

Long had we heard about the challenges of Lubec Narrows for an auxiliary sailboat.  Warnings of “not to be attempted in fog” and “only at high slack tide” abound.  Now, as a result of the new rules of clearing customs, we found ourselves sitting at the public dock in Lubec, pondering our exit from inside of Campobello Island at the eastern edge of the United States.  My wife Denise and I were in the middle of a month-long trip to Passamaquoddy Bay in our 39 year-old Allied Seawind Ketch “Stella”.  We were heading back to the fogs of the Bay of Fundy that stood between us and our homeport of Rockland, ME.  From the dock, the fog that swirled around the village of Lubec gave us occasional glimpses of the Lubec Bridge which marks the entrance to the fabled passage.  We were waiting the tide to finish its incoming rush in order to catch it off guard at high slack.  We had a couple of hours to kill before high tide so we took the opportunity to walk to the market for some additional provisions and to take in the local hospitality and sights of Lubec.

 

We had endured 7 days of zero-viz fog and rain getting to St. Andrews, New Brunswick via Head Harbor, Campobello.  St. Andrews sits at the northwestern corner of Passamaquoddy Bay.  Fortunately, the weather once we were inside bay was much better than the gray Bay of Fundy.  We enjoyed wandering about rediscovering the wonders of big tides, the broad sweep of water with no lobster pots (the Canadian’s lobster season had ended) to worry about and the quiet harbors that line the bay.  Only once in the many harbors in which we anchored did we have to share the flora and fauna with another boat.   We had slipped uneventfully in and out of fabled Cobscook Bay.  Sightings of bald eagles were so numerous that we stopped counting.

 

What brought us to Lubec dock?  The reality was the U.S. Customs bureau.  Last year, while trying to clear customs in Cutler on our way back into the States, we ran into the new regulations that prohibit using convenient Cutler as an entry point.  Now it was Eastport, Lubec or Bar Harbor.  None was a good option for our Stella.  We decided on Eastport as the least disruptive to our trip.  Additionally, Eastport gave us a chance to fit Cobscook into our itinerary.  But, the choice also left us on the inside of Campobello Island.  There are two choices for heading back to the States.  It’s either the long trip (16 miles) around the eastern end of the island or Lubec Narrows (4 miles).  If we chose the longer route and did pull into a Canadian harbor as a refuge from the forecasted thunderstorms, we would have to clear Canadian customs again and start the whole process over.  It was a conundrum that we had pondered for the past 11 months.  We decided on Lubec Narrows.  The weather and sea state forecast was ugly and heck this was supposed to be a pleasure trip, eh?  (Pardon my practicing my “Canadian”).  Waiting for a better weather window, we spent two additional nights anchored in local Johnson’s Bay west of Lubec. 

 

So here we were in Lubec, with an 11:44 AM high tide, a forecast of reduced seas and only scattered afternoon thunderstorms and fog that would occasionally let us see the bridge.  As we walked back to the dock from the market at 11:20 AM we noticed the moored boats turned stern to the bridge and the current already flowing out.  The tide had passed slack and the ocean now seemed to be rushing towards the bridge.  Incredibly, we might have already missed our opportunity for the day.  We hurriedly finished loading the last-minute stores onboard.  Denise battened down the hatches while I started “Johan”, our old and somewhat trusty diesel engine and fired up the radar, depth sounder, and cast off.  We entered the swirling waters above the bridge.  The fog was thick and lingering.  The waters were boiling with the center channel flushing towards the bridge and the back eddies offering a way out.  On our first approach I chickened out in an “Oh, my God!” moment.  Stella was yawing 30 degrees port and starboard in the maelstrom.  I took an eddy to starboard to give myself one more look before committing our little ship and its crew beyond the go/no-go point.  Once more I headed out into the rushing stream only to find myself again doubting the commitment. 

 

“Maybe we should go around Campobello,” I said to Denise again turning to starboard into the eddy to give us more time to decide.  The current under the bridge had grown noticeably stronger in just the few moments we had spent turning 360 degrees.  Then screwing up my courage, like Butch and Sundance about to jump off the cliff, I decided that with Johan at full throttle to keep steerage and faith in our navigation and Stella this was our chance and we would proceed. 

 

We aimed at the center navigational span still yawing back and forth in the torrent.  We knew for certain that our mast would fit under by about 8 feet – wouldn’t it?  Bridge clearances always appear closer than they are.  I didn’t have much time to look up as I was concentrating at keeping Stella straight in the turbulent stream.  We were approaching the bridge at exhilarating speed.  As we got close, well beyond the no-return point, a powerboat suddenly appeared out of the fog at the far side of the bridge coming “upstream”.  Fortunately, the captain understood the situation and kindly moved aside to wait until we were clear of the fendered bridge structure.  No ugly sounds from the top of the mast – at least we have that going for us.

 

So, now we’re having fun.  No visibility and a wicked amount of current carrying us along.  I didn’t have much time to look at the ground speed as I continued my effort of keeping Stella headed in the proper direction in the narrow channel.  The standing waves were like a white water rafting trip.  Stella was pitching but proudly holding her own.  We soon passed what must have been turbulent Mowry Point; we continued to sweep towards West Quoddy Head.  We weren’t sure it was Mowry Point as we could only see the waves visible within the 100 feet that the fog allowed.  Sight seeing was not on the docket today. 

 

The current while still strong has a broader sweep of water beyond Mowry Point so the standing waves slowly began to abate.  We ran from buoy to buoy finding them on radar and then picking each out of the fog as we got close.  Finally, we heard the West Quoddy head lighthouse’s horn that marks the exit of Lubec Narrows and the entrance to the cold, gray waters of the Bay of Fundy and passed the bell that marked our success.