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July 2013
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This summer, we’re sailing into the sunset with full stomachs—spinning a yarn of food,
drink, and saltwater racing on the 142-year-old Stephen Taber out of Rockland.
We’re at the docks in Rockland on a damp August Friday,
getting our first up-close look at the two-masted Stephen
Taber. Twenty passengers board the hulking wooden vessel and Captain Noah Barnes gives us the lowdown about
the above-and-below-deck accommodations. We are
going to be in close quarters. Very close.
In looks, the bearded captain—he also happens to play in
a Rockland rock and ska band—reminds me of a cooler
version of Hooper, the Richard Dreyfuss character in
Jaws. He opens with a showman-style “Ladies and gentle132 maine | themainemag.com
men!” and passes along choice tidbits about being careful
on slippery decks and the proper use of marine toilets, as
well as an advisory to stay clear of the hot chimney that
stabs through the deck from the galley’s 1910 wood-fired
oven. He makes sure we all know our cabin assignments,
and he leaves us with this zinger, “Your cabin will get bigger as the trip goes on.”
I’m eager to see. The hatch entrance is already open
allowing me access to 7A, and to enter, I turn backward
and step down the ladder-style steps. In the dim light I
Above Each summer
on the Maine coast,
schooners sail again.
Here, Captain Noah
Barnes at the wheel.
Opposite The view
from atop the main
mast of the schooner
Stephen Taber during
one of the boat's
four-day "Wine Trip"
excursions
"on-deck action
gets serious"
03
04
02
01
get a first glimpse of the snug fit. (I’ll be sharing slumbering quarters with my counterpart on such adventures,
photographer Peter Frank Edwards.) Our lodging is a
wood-paneled nest outfitted with two bunks nearly sideby-side, and offers less than a yard of clearance between
the quilted blankets and a ceiling of solid oak beams. The
sole place to stand without stooping is directly in front
of a salad-bowl-sized sink at the base of the ladder. A
few wall hooks and some above-bunk netting help keep
clothing and personal effects organized (pre-trip memos
had advised to pack lightly). An LED reading lamp can
be clicked on above each bunk, but there are no electrical
outlets. This will be old-school, sailor-style travel. With
wine. Let the fun begin.
In a boat on the water—at least this one—voices carry,
even whispering voices. You hear other passengers talk
and cough in the night. Someone in one of the neighboring
cabins is snoring, yet I get a good rest on the first night. By
morning, I’ve met or at least taken note of most everyone
on board, and I know that we’re all in this together—the
couples from Massachusetts, Wisconsin, and Georgia;
the sisters from Australia; a musician from New Jersey.
The young crew, sailing buffs from across New England,
is tidying the deck and getting the boat ready for the trip.
134 maine | themainemag.com
We all help ourselves to mugs of hot Rock City coffee and
stacks of blueberry pancakes, and the Maine sky starts to
brighten with quintessential August sunshine. Captain
Noah says he “thought there was a decent chance for it being completely still and a pea-soup fog.” But the weather
is good, so by mid-morning, we’re ready to sail.
A deckhand jumps on the wooden yawl, Babe, which has
a motor with enough power to push the 60-ton schooner
out of the harbor. The on-deck action soon gets serious—
sails unfurling, and lines of crew and passengers listening
to shouts from the captain to take hold of the heavy
marine rope, pull and hoist. Captain Noah’s maritime
pedigree is the real deal. He grew up sailing aboard the
Stephen Taber with his parents, Ken and Ellen Barnes of
Rockland, who bought the boat in 1979, rotting timbers
and all, and then took on a major rebuild in the 1980s.
When the elder Barneses retired about a decade ago, Captain Noah and his wife, Jane Barrett Barnes, left careers
in New York to dive into schooner duties. The chef for the
trip, Aimee LePage, first sailed on the boat with her family
when she was a teenager, and she assisted Ellen Barnes in
the galley. She has since cooked in Seattle-area restaurants and assisted Mario Batali, Paula Deen, and other
chefs on the Food Network.
01 In the galley with
chef Aimee LePage,
who was up before
dawn loading
firewood into the
galley's workhorse
iron stove. Using
ingredients from
Maine farms and
shops, all the meals
are prepped,
cooked, and baked
here. 02 Crew and
passengers (if they
like) get to test their
sailing skills 03 On
deck for hot-fromthe-oven pizzettes
04 Like the other
deckhands, Tess
Despress first came
aboard the Stephen
Taber as a student
HEAVE HO TO LITTLE THOROFARE
The majestic boat is finally free and alive on the water with the
sounds of wind, splashes of saltwater, and the creaking of wood.
Prevailing breezes start to carry us. Meanwhile, Aimee and
messcook Kat Selberg are below decks in the galley baking French
pizzettes. At lunchtime they emerge carrying bowls of olives and
cornichons, and wooden cutting boards of the hot pies topped with
toasted pine nuts, caramelized onions, and fresh parsley. Everyone
gathers on deck for another family-style meal with coastline views.
Afterward, passengers fall back into conversations, snooze in the
sun, or open books for the afternoon—three happen to be caught up
in the suspense of Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl. This is actual paperback book reading. With only one electrical outlet to share in the
schooner’s library, there’s very little use of smart phones or tablets.
The disconnection allows you to immerse yourself in where you
are, and what’s happening right now. For me, that means time to notice the black and white sea ducks out there bobbing in the seawater. I watch Tess Despres, a high school student and an apprentice
deckhand on the Stephen Taber who always seems to be polishing
the brass and lanterns, toting food or dishes, or mopping the deck.
The senior deckhand, Will Carlough, is tall and quietly confident
beyond his teenage years. He climbs the masts and coils the ropes,
and aims to be part of the 2016 Olympic sailing team. That’s the
way the afternoon goes. While the passengers sort out whether or
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not to take a nap, get lost in a book, or look at nautical maps and chat
with the captain, the crew’s tasks never seem to wane. Everything is
continually being made shipshape.
A few hours before sunset, we drop anchor in a quiet passage not far
from the Goose Rocks Light at North Haven. Trees and rocky shores
are across the water, and the buildings of one saltwater farm are the
only built scenery we see from this spot at Little Thorofare. The crew
lowers the 14-foot, wooden Plain Jane into the water for passengers
to take out for a sailing jaunt. And when the sunset’s light is angled
and golden, we all gravitate toward the bottles of French wine that
Jane Barnes has opened and arranged on a tablecloth on deck. She
formerly worked with the Champagne house of Veuve Cliquot, and
will lead wine tastings and pairings each night at dinner. This night,
she has nine wines for us to try in a French tasting tour from Champagne to Burgundy to Sauternes. As she pours, she has personal
stories from travels to the vineyards of France to meet winemakers.
We sip and ask questions, and choose favorites for deeper pours. The
sun drops lower, and the tasting and toasting continues along with
an incredible spread of pork rillettes, chicken liver pate, just-baked
baguettes, Maine cheeses, a French mussels-style preparation of
steamer clams, duck confit over flageolet beans and braised kale,
and the tricky-to-make, layered-apple dessert of tarte tatin. All of
this is made in the schooner’s galley, and we’re drinking from glass
stemware and eating from real plates.
SHE DOESN’T KNOW WE’RE HERE
Remarkable moments keep coming. I’d been told that because the
marine toilet draws seawater for flushing, it’s possible to see marine
phosphorescence in the bowl. Hours after the intoxicating meal, I
flush and something sparkles. I blink and squint to refocus, thinking
the effect of the wine has gotten to me. (It has.) But out on the schooner in the dark of midnight, I’m certain I saw those phosphorescent
136 maine | themainemag.com
bits. The next morning, I happen to be one of the first passengers up
and about. The water’s surface is nearly still and mist is rising. I can
smell smoke from the stove’s chimney, and I know that hot coffee is
being made. Before I lose my nerve, I pull on my swimsuit and make
my way to a ladder over the side of the Stephen Taber. I step down
a couple rungs, but don’t dare to test the temperature with my toe.
I’m committed to what’s next, and simply hold my nose and jump in.
Beyond brisk, this seawater is deep, clear, and cold! I don’t keep my
head under for long, and hurry to swim out of the boat’s shadow and
into the morning sunlight. For the warmth of motion, I make a lap of
the schooner, looking up at her carved wood details while other passengers take the plunge to splash and gasp, too. When I climb back
aboard, I’m shivering to my timbers, but it’s worth it. On a section
of the broad deck, the crew has arranged ample yards of canvas to
create a private hot-showering area, and one by one, all of us chilled
morning swimmers take a turn in the steam.
We’re never out of sight of the coast, and the day’s sail includes a
brief stop in Castine so we can stretch our legs on the tree-lined
streets. Then it’s back on the schooner for a sail to nearby Smith
Cove, where we’ll see osprey flying and spend another evening tasting wine and food—this time, plates of rustic fresh pasta and bottles
from Veneto and Tuscany. Anchored within shouting distance
is another beautiful craft, the American Eagle, a circa-1930 fishing schooner built in Gloucester, Massachusetts. Captain Noah is
friends with that boat’s captain, John Foss, and the next morning,
the two men agree to a gentlemen’s wager that gets the crews of both
boats scurrying. Suddenly, a post-breakfast race is on and a rush of
excitement rises. A six-pack of Dogfish Head beer will be the spoils
for the captain of the first schooner to reach Owls Head Light back at
Rockland harbor. Captain Noah has a gleam in his eye. We’re off.
The distance would be about 22 miles in a straight line, but we’ll be
tacking upwind. The captain estimates that we’ll end up covering
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03
01 Still sailing along Maine's coast is the Stephen
Taber, launched in 1871 and described by a
newspaper journalist as "a well built, natty schooner."
02 Made-from-scratch fare on the boat includes
recipes with Indian, French, and Italian flavors.
03 Once moored in the evenings, dinner is served,
including desserts and wine in the moonlight.
around 35 nautical miles. It’s a wild ride along Maine’s midcoast. For
the next six hours, the crew sails the hell out of the Stephen Taber,
causing the old schooner to heel and creak, at speeds sometimes over
eight knots. Sails fill and billow and we pass boats and docks and
harbors of Penobscot Bay. We don’t stop at lunchtime, but grab mugs
of beef stew while the sailing continues at full speed. Aimee’s feet are
planted on deck as she holds a salad bowl. Someone asks the captain
if all the passengers should line up on one side to redistribute the
weight. Not necessary, Captain Noah says; the Stephen Taber is wide
and sturdy enough that “she doesn’t even know we’re here.”
By afternoon, we can see Owls Head Light perched on its rocky
July 2013 137
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Proceeds from Lobsters on the Sound support the many
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communities of Mount Desert Island.
02
01 A lobster feast 02 A view of carved
details, as seen from the water
headland. Our nineteenth-century schooner may be nearly 60 years older than the
graceful American Eagle, but we’re first to
make it past the lighthouse. For captain
and crew, the passengers give a “hip, hip,
hooray,” and that night everyone feasts on
steak and lobster to celebrate—the crowning dinner party of the trip. Fishing boats
are moored in the harbor around us, and
the American Eagle has dropped anchor
nearby, still loaded with passengers and
crew.
In the morning, before any of us are out of
our cabins, I smell diesel fuel and hear the
rumble of the lobster boats. It sounds as if
one boat is circling very near, and its wake
rocks the grand old schooner. On a second,
noisy pass, a man’s voice bellows, “Waaake
up!” The ribbing is only fair. We’re in their
harbor after all, having too much August
fun—in close quarters.
proudly sponsored by
138 maine | themainemag.com
18 Wayman Lane
Bar Harbor, ME
ner Showhouse.
and's First Desig
Mount Desert Isl
Laboratory.
benefit Jackson
Proceeds go to
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Opening Party Ju
July 14 - August 3
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