Nerve Endings Firing Away

During our trip to Maine, I discovered that I was not cut out for the high seas. We set out to explore Moneghan Island on our way to Searsport, our next camping pitstop. Scarcely a square mile in area, this tiny but picturesque island is about 10 miles off the coast off Maine; beyond which lies the expanse of the Atlantic Ocean. The ferry charges were stiff – $27 per person but we had driven along the coast all this while and wanted to venture out into the ocean. Also, the island was said to be a refuge for lonesome writers seeking solace of the peace and quiet. The island has a year-round population of only 65 and the school on the island has 6 full-time students (later, we explored the school grounds which was merely a small shed). The boat ride powered by a diesel engine was largely uneventful but we passed several rocky islands and bobbing ducks in the water. the sun was bright but the wind pleasant which augured well for our trip. But as the lady at the ticket counter warned us, we were all wrapped in the warm clothing. This turned out to be sound advice as closer we got to the island, the colder it got and the wind had picked up too.

We reached the island and had just one hour to explore it as the ferry that brought us here would leave for the day. If you are stuck here, you could freeze overnight. The island is topped with an excellent-looking lighthouse; the backdrop marred by an ungainly but necessary radio tower. The hilltop offers excellent views of the houses around and the sea beyond. The sky was looking ominious, clouds were gathering quick, and the sea definitely looked choppy. It was already time to head back and we hadn’t even checked out the ship wreck at Lobster Cove. However, the captain promised to direct the ship around the island so we could have a better view. Like on our earlier ride, we stood near the prow of the boat hoping to get some excellent views. But the sea had other ideas. As we rounded the corner and were sailing on the open sea side, waves were lashing the sides, making the boat wobble wildly. The first mate advised us to head back to the cabin as the more splashing and wobbling was expected. Not trying to act the superhero, we instantly heeded his advice and glad we did.

The next hour and half was pure hell as visions of the Perfect Storm popped up in my head. The tiny boat wobbled wildly back and forth and sideways. The captain fought to keep it on its course and at times, we hardly felt the boat move forward as we were headed against the wind and the current. The trip was quickly beginning to sound like a bad idea and for once, I was glad I had an empty stomach otherwise I would have definitely earned the title of ‘Barf of the Year’. and to think that Ash and I had talked about how we were not susceptible to seasickness on our way in. But this was something else. Luggage was tossed around as the boat tossed around and you could see the boat rise and drop with each wave. You dare not look back at the sea otherwise all movie scenes assisted with a wave-maker and sound effects seemed chillingly real. Forget taking pictures, I was fighting to keep the contents of my stomach or whatever I had in there exactly in there. Ash was doing equally bad. Wonder what her dad who is a naval architect would think of our state.

Finally, we reached solid ground but could hardly eat anything for the rest of the day. Also, the rainy days that were to clear only after three days started with that afternoon. But heck, as some would say, you have something exciting to tell your kids.