~ By Peg Willauer-Tobey, MITA Member

Kids and tight spaces do not normally get along together. We’ve all experienced the torture of the long car ride to visit relatives. Even being confined to a large two-story house on a rainy day can be challenging. If close quarters inevitably cause kids to start bouncing off the walls, why does anyone ever bother trying to sail the Maine coast with children?

For me, it’s a matter of tradition. I grew up sailing with my family. For two weeks every summer my parents, sister, brother, and I loaded into the car and drove up to Northeast Harbor where we’d pick up a 40-foot Alden yawl. We had two weeks to deliver the boat to Cape Cod. Every year it was the same: for a week and a half we’d explore the inlets, harbors, and islands on the Maine coast, and then in the final three days we would set a course for the Cape and deliver the boat.

The delivery part – tedious straight ahead sailing, no matter how fine or nasty the weather – was sure to provoke sibling squabbles, not to mention the occasional bout of seasickness. However, the wonder of the previous ten days of aimless cruising and island hopping more than made up for it. As a result of our yearly exploration of the coast, the islands of Maine permeate my imagination. In order to savor sailing with children, one has to connect with their innate sense of adventure.

Our parents remembered how to explore, and enjoyed examining every nook and cranny we could find along the coast. Each day we’d walk around the shore of an island, skipping rocks, hunting mussels, singing to periwinkles, and disturbing crabs. Every evening at five o’clock or so, my sister, brother and I rowed our dinghy around the anchorage looking for sites inaccessible to larger boats. Often in the 8-foot dinghy we would haggle out the issues of the day. My parents strongly encouraged these end-of-day jaunts by us children, and now that I’m a parent myself I understand why. For parents, grabbing some “quiet time” now and then may be the most important secret to enjoying a family cruise on the coast of Maine.

Islands are also great places to generate your own family lore. One island on the Trail gave birth to a family story that has been passed down to the next generation. One day, at my brother’s (and father’s) nap time, my parents deposited my sister and me to paint with watercolors on the island. We sat in the sunny woods among moss covered trees. At some point we went for a walk on the center path, and as we followed the trail the woods became dense. Ahead there was a stand of mostly-dead small pine trees. The light couldn’t easily penetrate the tightly woven limbs.  We turned a corner and in our path, wedged in-between two trees, there stood a closed door. The door was fully intact with a frame, hinges, and a door knob, waiting to be opened. We stopped. My sister recalls wondering, “A door – a door to what? We turned and ran.

My children have heard about The Door and have created their own stories imagining what might be on the other side. I have taught them to hunt mussels and sing to periwinkles. And we often send our kids out rowing in the dinghy, whenever my husband and I covet a moment of peace. In Maine, we can discover our unique coastline through exploration and time spent reconnecting with our childhood. With more than 185 islands and coastal sites available for access through the Trail, the tight confines of the boat become only a small part of the cruiser’s world. The adventures outside of the boat complete the experience.