Life on Islesford

When we went up to Maine in April to do some wedding planning, we had a fantastic dinner at Dan & Cynthia's house with their friends Bruce and Barb Fernald. The meal was excellent, and the company was even better. It was the first time we had seen Barb since the day after we got engaged--she was having dinner with Dan and Cynthia when we arrived at the restaurant, and so she was among the first in the world to know about our engagement (not only that, as the local society columnist, she was the first to publicly record it, in the July 27, 2006 edition of the Mount Desert Islander!)

Little did we know that Bruce and Barb were famous! I recently picked up this charming little book called "The Secret Life of Lobsters" by Trevor Corson, and it turns out Bruce and Barb are major characters in it. Here's how the book starts:

The morning sky was glowing pink in the southeast but a chill hung in the salt air. The grumble of a truck engine echoed across the harbor. Bruce Fernald's rust-encrusted Ford pickup skidded to a halt in the gravel near the fisherman's co-op on Little Cranberry Island. ...

A century earlier, three hundred Maine islands had been home to year-round communities of fishermen and seafarers. Little Cranberry Island was one of just fourteen such year-round communities that remained. A mile and a half long and shaped like a pork chop, it lay among four other small islands that together formed the Cranberry Isles. Nestled just south of the larger island of Mount Desert, the Cranberries were visible to hikers in Acadia National Park as a cluster of green slabs on the ocean.

Little Cranberry Island had been Bruce's home for most of his fifty years, and he'd spent most of his adult life trapping lobsters around the island's shores. ... Down the main street was the Protestant Church. In the other direction was the Catholic chapel, where a fisherman's net hung behind Jesus, the fisher of men. Bruce Fernald attended neither, but if the lobstering didn't improve, it was possible he'd begin attending both.

Lobster Boat Racing

Another article to give you a sense of the area in summertime:

Off the Coast of Maine, the Time Is Right for Racing in Bulky, Plodding Boats
By MAREK FUCHS

STONINGTON, Me., July 15 — The lobstermen’s ball lasted until the early hours, and then the lobstermen mostly stumbled their way back to the shipyard, where they spent a restless night on their open boats, under a bad roll of fog.

The well-prepared managed to prop up tents on their decks, but for others bed was nothing but the hard surface of the engine covering and a blanket.

On Sunday morning, it was time to head out to sea — not in search of lobsters but for a competition that has become one of the social events along the coast here, a Kentucky Derby for the trapping set.

Lobster boats are built to be sturdy and are capable of handling pretty much anything on the open water. They are not built for speed. But several times during the summer, up and down the coast of Maine, lobstermen soup up their engines, weigh down the back of their boats and gun the vessels in races that are sanctioned by the Maine Lobster Boat Racing Association.

Jimmy Brown, a 56-year-old lobsterman from Montauk, N.Y., came up to watch the race, but he did not find it particularly practical to speed about in a lobster boat.

“You have to let the cages soak,” Mr. Brown said, “and besides, economy is more important than speed.”

Edward Shirley, 62, one of the participants in the weekend of races, thought otherwise.

“You don’t make a lot of money in this race, but it’s good people and camaraderie, and lobstermen are always in need of comrades,” said Mr. Shirley, who lives on Verona Island, Me.

This weekend’s racing took place in this fishing village on the tip of Deer Isle, an island connected to the mainland by an almost comically antiquated suspension bridge. It is populated by lobstermen and vacationers, many of them artists who came here for part of the summer long ago and never left.

The lobstermen on the island have challenging lives that include seasonal employment, early hours and grinding physical work that can shred shoulders and backs.

At stake in Sunday’s races were $4,000 to $5,000 in cash, thousands of dollars more in prizes including a bilge pump and oil, and bragging rights.

Local lobstermen had the benefit of sleeping in their own beds, which was an advantage to Andy Gove, a 77-year-old who was the heavy favorite in his race class.

Mr. Gove’s 36-foot, 900-horsepower boat is named “Uncle’s U.F.O.” — though he is not sure why.

“My wife’s brother suggested it,” Mr. Gove said, “and I didn’t have anything better, so I took it.”

Though delayed because of the fog, the races — nearly three dozen of them, divided by classes — took place on Sunday. The first was for boats 16 feet and under, with skippers 18 and younger, all the way up to a class for boats 40 feet and longer with at least 750 horsepower. There was a separate class for women. And all the classes compete in the open diesel division.

The course ran more than a mile, most of it a flat-out sprint. About 150 other vessels, from lobster boats to viewing barges, ran through man-of-war jellyfish and several seals in Stonington Harbor to watch from the best vantage point, forming a pathway for the racers.

After averaging 46.4 miles per hour against the current to win the day, Mr. Gove was crowned the overall champion. Word around the shipyard is also that Mr. Gove uses his age to lull competitors into a false sense of security, but he said after the race that his days on top might be over.

“Too old,” he said with a shrug as he was greeted with hoots, backslaps and compliments.

The selling of Maine's coast

Interesting article about declining waterfront access in Maine:

The selling of Maine's coast
Fishing industry access squeezed by development
By Jenna Russell, Globe Staff June 17, 2007

SPRUCE HEAD ISLAND, Maine -- Fishermen on this rocky, pine-studded peninsula have felt a creeping unease in recent years, as real estate prices leapt skyward and stories circulated up and down the coast of fishing piers sold to make room for million-dollar vacation homes.

Two years ago, in response to growing concerns on the coast, state officials and researchers set out to map the waterfront access of Maine's working fishermen. What they found was more alarming than anyone expected: Along Maine's 5,300-mile coast, only 20 miles of shoreline remain open to commercial fishermen, according to the study the Island Institute released last month.
...
Advocates for fishermen say towns should recognize the value of their presence, which adds character and attracts visitors. That perspective was not lost on the developer of the upscale Harborside Hotel and Marina in Bar Harbor, who bought the last privately owned fishing dock in the harbor. Instead of evicting the fishermen, the hotel has preserved their access to the pier and the sandy beach nearby where they repair their boats. Guests are fascinated by the scene, said Eben Salvatore , director of operations for the resort. "They're hard-working guys, and they've always been respectful of the fact that our customers are right above them," said Salvatore, who grew up in town. "It feels good when you can run a nice property and at the same time help people feed their families."
...

Swimming: Acadia's Beaches and Ponds

From Lisa Gollin Evans's "An Outdoor Family Guide to Acadia National Park," pp. 52-53:

Sand Beach is Acadia's only stretch of sandy ocean beach. ... On Park Loop Road, 0.3 miles after park entrance station [on the east side of Mount Desert]
Seal Harbor Town Beach. This rocky beach offers changing rooms, rest rooms, and a float just offshore at high tide. a delightful lobster shack is just a short walk away at the scenic Seal Harbor Town Pier. At Seal Harbor, off Route 3.
Echo Lake Beach is an excellent place to take young children for a real swim. Children love the temperate water and sandy beach. The only drawback is the crowds -- the large parking lot is often filled to capacity by 11:00 a.m. ... At the south end of Echo Lake, off Route 102, about 3.6 miles south of Somesville.

Hugh L. Dwelley's "A History of Little Cranberry Island, Maine," p. 184, describes the lobster business on Little Cranberry in recent years:

After 1996, Maine fishermen were limited by law to fishing gangs of no more than 1200 traps. At Islesford, this was not a hardship. A usual gang, fished by captain and sternman in a 36-40 foot diesel-powered boat, ran more like 700 wire-box traps. There were about fifteen boats out of Islesford and three out of Great Cranberry. Catches were good with the fisherman being paid from $3 to $5 per pound. In 1998, the co-op purchased 565,393 pounds of lobsters which it subsequently sold to individuals and mainland dealers at a good profit. In 1996 and 1997 the co-op invested a significant amount to substantially rebuild and strengthen its dock.

Lobsters in New York

A few days ago we posted great places for lobster in Bar Harbor, but that's no help to anyone right now is it? So, for all of you New Yorkers, here's an article listing some great new places for lobster rolls right here in the city:

June 3, 2007 -- IF you can find two New Yorkers, you can find an argument: Mets vs. Yankees, East Side vs. West Side, Mary’s Fish Camp vs. Pearl Oyster Bar. I’ll go with the Mets and the West Side, but in terms of lobster rolls I’ve decided to leave the battle for another day and instead get familiar with the newest contenders. After eating rolls of crustacean mayo-globbed goodness for two weeks straight, I can no longer fit into my jeans. I have, however, figured out which rolls catch the wave and which ones wipe out.

Ed’s Lobster Bar

222 Lafayette St.; (212) 343-3236

Chef Ed McFarland of the newly opened Ed’s Lobster Bar is the guy you can thank for the world’s best lobster roll - a hot buttered bun filled with a mound of deliciously sweet claw meat. McFarland worked with Rebecca Charles (of Pearl Oyster Bar) for six years, and his pedigree shows. His lobster roll (market price) is a masterpiece of pulled and shredded lobster that’s so sweet, it tastes like it’s been soaked in cream. It’s glossed with just the right amount of mayo, and served with a side of piping hot sea-salted hand-cut fries.

Penelope

159 Lexington Ave.; (212) 481-3800

This neighborhood spot brings a summertime Maine vibe to our concrete city, with its blue-and-white awning, worn wood-plank flooring, mix ’n’ match antique tables, and walls covered in aqua wainscoting. To complete the dream, owner Jennifer Pootenza has whipped up one heavenly under-the-radar lobster roll. Overloaded with lobster meat dressed in lemony mayo, her Turtle Cove Lobster Roll ($16.50, named for one of her favorite surf spots in Montauk) is served on buttered and griddled Tom Cat Bakery brioche.

Ditch Plains

29 Bedford St.; (212) 633-0202

While chef Marc Murphy’s lobster roll ($25) is served in a pedestrian hotdog roll (grilled and amply buttered), its modesty is in bun only. He loads up this pup with a substantial helping of lobster salad fashioned from knuckle-size hunks of sweet lobster meat tossed with aioli and a smattering of tarragon, celery, parsley and just a touch of Old Bay.

The Mermaid Inn

96 Second Ave.; (212) 674-5870

While a classic lobster roll technically calls for a split bun (a squared-off hotdog roll), there’s always room for creativity. Chef Jose Luis Martinez at The Mermaid Inn uses his with an oversize brioche roll the size of a catcher’s mitt that’s stuffed with a heap of lobster salad (market price). The salad itself is heavy on the mayo, but the warmth of the roll makes the lobster meat more succulent.

BLT Fish

21 W. 17th St.; (212) 691-8888

You might expect a high-class version of the lobster roll from a fancy chef like Laurent Tourondel, but you won’t find it in his downstairs fish shack at BLT Fish. His lobster roll ($24) is no-frills and beach-ready. The lobster salad is lavished with celery, capers, tarragon and chives, all spooned into a warm brioche sub, sliced in two and tucked into a red plastic basket crowded with skinny fries. It’s tasty, but for $24 the kitchen should be more generous with its meat.

The Black Pearl

37 W 26th St.; (212) 532-9900

While this lobster roll is boldly described on the menu as “The Best in Town,” clearly someone’s not eating out a lot. For $20 at lunchtime and Market Price at dinner, you get a cold lump of bubble-gum pink lobster meat - without an inkling of seasoning - served on a dry bun.

Lobsters in Bar Harbor

The Washington Post Travel Q&A recently answered a question on where to get the best lobster in Bar Harbor. These are sound choices:

I'm looking for seafood restaurants in Bar Harbor, Maine. Lobster is at the top of our list.

Gail Heimes, Middletown

Lobster is the king crustacean in Bar Harbor. Hard-shell lobsters are available year-round, whereas soft-shell lobsters, known for their sweeter meat, are in season July through September. Bar Harbor restaurants also prepare other creatures of the sea and shore. Here are some local faves:

* At the Trenton Bridge Lobster Pound (1237 Bar Harbor Rd., Trenton, 207-667-2977), pick your own lobster, then watch it boil in ocean water on an outdoor wood-fire cooker. Leave room for sides and pie.

* Galyn's (17 Main St., 207-288-9706), which overlooks the harbor, dresses up its seafood -- though you can also get your lobster plain-old boiled.

* Sample Down East cuisine at the Rinehart Dining Pavilion (50 Eden St., 207-288-5663), on the grounds of Fairview, the former summer estate of mystery writer Mary Roberts Rinehart.

* The Jordan Pond House (Park Loop Road, 207-276-3316) is the only restaurant in Acadia National Park. Stop by for afternoon tea with popovers and jam.

* Jordan's Restaurant (80 Cottage St., 207-288-3586) cooks breakfast into the next mealtime. Try anything smothered in blueberries, such as the pancakes.

* At Tapley's Variety and Grill (317 Main St., 207-288-8185), share breakfast with lobstermen before they head out to sea.

Engagement Party in Oklahoma

While we were in Oklahoma last weekend, we had a little barbecue for folks down there, and had a great time. We even had a Maine lobster (sic) come by! Go see the pictures HERE.

Anti-Jinxing the Weather for This August

One memorable passage in "The Secret Life of Lobsters" records a party at the Islesford Dock Restaurant towards the end of August. Let's hope August 2007 doesn't have the same storms August 1996 had! (but check this out)

The hurricane warning crackled over Bruce Fernald's radio aboard the Double Trouble two days before the end of August 1996. The storm was a monster and approaching Little Cranberry Island quickly. ...

The day the hurricane was to arrive a stiff breeze raced across the harbor. The men spent the afternoon hauling small boats out of the water and battening down equipment on the co-op wharf. ... When the rain came crashing down in leaden sheets across the harbor and the ocean frothed white out of the west, the fishermen knew they were inside the leading edge of the the hurricane, and there was nothing more they could do.

Still in their rain slickers and dripping wet, they congregated in the bar at the end of the restaurant wharf to watch the storm come. It was the final day of the restaurant's summer season, when the owners held their customary closing night for the islanders--no tourists allowed. Leftover beer would flow for free until the kegs ran dry. Clutching pints of Harpoon ale and Budweiser, the fishermen sat with their backs to the bar, gazing out through the windows while the rising tempest buffeted the wharf on its pilings and pulled their pitching boats tight on their mooring lines.

Ferries to Little Cranberry Island

Obviously no one can get on and off Little Cranberry without a boat. That's why everyone on the island always knows exactly when the ferry comes and goes. We've scheduled a charter boat to get people to the wedding (4 pm from the upper town dock in Southwest Harbor!), but if you decide to come out to the island early, you'll be on one of the ferries. Virginia Thorndike's "Islanders" describes the ferry business to the Cranberries:

A lot of freight has to be carried out to the Cranberry Isles, in addition to all the people who want to come out or go ashore. Less than half an hour is scheduled for the boat trips between the Cranberries and [Mount Desert Island]; the islands are well connected through relatively protected water. ...

One or two barge trips a week usually take care of the needs of the islands during the winter--fuel, construction lumber, bait for the co-op in Islesford, and trash on the return. In summer, "it's just as fast as we can do things," says David Bunker. There are three trips a week just carrying trucks of lobster bait.

The Downeast coast

From Colin Woodward's "The Lobster Coast," p. 32:

The often-used Maine moniker "Downeast" is a sailing term that refers to direction, not location. The prevailing winds on the Maine coast blow from the southwest in the warm months, so ships from Boston were able to run downwind as they sailed along Maine's northeasterly-trending coast. ...

The Downeast coast was the last region to be settled by British subjects because it belonged to France until 1763. France never established much more than a garrison here, in large part because the region's colder climate, ferocious tides, and thin, glacially scoured soil made such undertakings difficult. The task of settlement fell to a great wave of land-hungry English and Scotch-Irish settlers who moved here from other parts of Maine and New England in the last decades of the eighteenth century. It was this movement that pushed Maine to the forefront of the American fishing industry in the first half of the nineteenth century. Most Downeast people discovered they couldn't survive by farming, and turned to the sea by necessity. There they discovered the Gulf of Maine's incredible bounty, and helped establish the maritime way of life on the coast. But the Downeast coast's harsh conditions and remote location have always minimized both settlement and economic activity, and today the region remains the poorest, least developed part of the Maine seaboard.