A Maine Story

It is Saturday night, August 14th, and we just arrived back on Curlew after having drinks and dinner at the Islesford Dock Restaurant on Little Cranberry Island, Maine. (See Curlew’s blog if you are interested in hearing about where we’ve been the last week.) I just hung up the phone after talking with my parents who sound amazingly good and who were very chatty.


We were here several years ago, and it is interesting to see the huge houses that grace the shoreline of what once seemed like a remote, traditional Maine Island; inhabited in the summer by a few folks from away, lobstermen, and during the winter, by a handful of die-hards who manage to brave the weather and remoteness of the island.

Little Cranberry is to the south of Mount Desert Island and close to South West and North East Harbors, both on Mount Desert, but very popular and wealthy if you judge the real estate populated by the summer visitors and the boats that are produced here: Hinckley out of South West and Morris yachts out of North East. It is unfortunate that these islands are becoming places for the rich, displacing the locals who have lived here for dozens of years but can no longer afford the taxes which rise along with the million dollar homes.

Tonight, while dining at the bar of the Islesford Dock, we heard a story of a man who purchased several acres of property some 30 years ago from a woman who happened to take a liking to him, and built a house. According to our storyteller, she sold it for some ridiculously low price at the time. I can’t help but imagine what it is worth now, let alone hearing something like that happening today.

On our way back to the boat, we were guided by a crisp, crescent moon, accompanied by Venus gleaming brightly to its right. When I am here I am reminded of the many years we spent in the Adirondack Mountains. There you could see the Milky Way in all its splendor; a mass of stars so congested that they looked like a malted shake. A sight like this you just don’t see in the city or its surrounding suburbs.

This morning, before we left our last anchorage, we watched the scenery morph dramatically as the tide, which dropped some 15 feet, exposed the rocks and plant life that lay hidden upon our arrival. Thierry spotted two sets of seals sunning on the rocks and two swimming in the water, along with a loon and other birds. Maine always offers up something entirely new and wonderful.

Tonight I outdid myself. I had a Grey Goose Martini before dinner, along with a terrific mussel appetizer which Thierry and I shared. We then had halibut for dinner with a bottle of Sangiovese, both of which were very good! I haven’t drunk that much in a long time and I have to tell you, it feels pretty good. We’ll see how it all shakes out tomorrow!

Speaking of tomorrow, we may go back to North East Harbor to do some laundry and buy some food as we are out of fresh vegetables; or we may just decide to hang out and take it easy. Then we will make our way southwest to Rockland where we will meet our friends, the Davisons, for dinner and pick up Lauren and Michael who will join us for a few days. I will ride back with them to Philadelphia the week after.

Although I would love to chatter about something I’ve thought about this whole trip (regrets; you might ask where that came from!), I will save that for another blog. It has been a truly wonderful week, and a special evening. No regrets here!