The weather was too good to last, and true to form the fog closed in Sunday night. We awoke Monday morning with pea soup atmosphere and a plane to meet in Bangor. On went the radar, and we motored out. It's an eerie feeling to drive up a river not seeing either bank. Fortunately, there was almost no other traffic, and the fog thinned enough after we passed Bucksport so that we could at least see the buoys.
People usually call four to six weeks ahead.
Bangor's jumping in the summer. Well, I'll see what I can do. Our dock turned out to be conveniently located behind the Sea Dog brewpub, so naturally we had to have a burger and a local beer. There were a few other boats there when we arrived, but we didn't see any of them actually move during the few days we were there, nor did we see anyone arrive or depart, and we suspect the harbormaster was indulging in a bit of wishful thinking. Elegant granite and brick buildings stand vacant in a downtown that looks like it belongs in a much bigger city.