It’s hard to believe that it's been 20 years since Captain Eliot Winslow logged out. It seems like almost yesterday that we chatted in the Robinson’s Wharf parking lot. Well, mostly I listened, Eliot chatted. He was an institution with plenty to say. We had become buddies over the years going back to my earliest times here in Maine.

Breeze Kidder is one of our most wonderful family friends. She and our oldest daughter Megan were classmates at the Harbor Children’s Center at the tender age of 3. The Children Center, which closed some time ago, was located on School Street in Boothbay Harbor. It is now the home of Coastal Payroll. Megan and Breeze attended under the watchful eye of Debbie Butterfield, the lucky recipients of her care. We were very grateful parents, happy for experiences shared with a substantial group of youngsters. And when a bug entered the building we all got to participate, building resistance to future colds and similar impediments.

Awaiting a winter storm is like watching bread rise: You know it will happen, but when exactly depends on the ingredients. For me, my bread formula (which is actually passed down from my Irish grandmother) generally behaves better in a warm kitchen. The dough rises, gets kneaded, then rises again. Patience is paramount, just like waiting to see what shows up in a winter storm. All preparations don’t guarantee results. In both cases, with bread and storms, the finished product is the final measure. Sometimes my bread takes forever to rise and sometimes storms arrive when they are good and ready, or bad and ready, as the case may be.

Perhaps a midwinter puzzle might provide diversion from the coldness that has been with us for our recent past and present, with maybe a small break coming up which may include some of my most dreaded winter rain. Ugh. I hate winter rain and its accompanying aggravations. But, temperatures should moderate.

My search for Larry Knapp turned into quite an adventure.

Since I don’t pick up bait early enough, that option was out. So I needed to do a little detective work. Where have I seen Larry lately? I recalled seeing him at the East Side Park dock during the tribute boat parade for George McEvoy, so I headed over there on a chance sighting. No boats, no luck. So my next thought was Atlantic Edge. I knew that Larry went out early and came in early, but I wasn’t sure what early was. I asked Linda at Atlantic Edge if Larry kept his boat there or on one of their moorings. She told me to wait a minute and went into the office to ask if anyone knew Larry’s traffic pattern. She came back out and said that he was just taking his boat across the harbor to the Tugboat marina which is where he has kept his boat in winter for some time. That was my break. I made it for the Tugboat hoping to catch him before he packed in for the day.

If you were to take a stroll (safely accompanied by shipyard staff) around the historic Boothbay Harbor Bristol Marine property, you would be amazed by the amount of activity at every turn.

Full disclosure. This week’s photo adventure was pre-flighted on Facebook. I put the image up for public view a week or so ago and got so many interesting and funny comments that I thought it might be fun to share with the “Register” crowd, given that not everyone looks to Facebook as a reliable news source. Sometimes it’s a little challenging to get accurate information online, especially with all the new ways to manipulate what is posted. I can confirm that the photograph shared in this issue is completely real and superbly incriminating. I screwed up, but in so doing, managed to tickle a few interesting memories out of the viewership! 

My first landing zone here in Maine, Treasure Island, rests on a small point of land, facing south near the mouth of Little River in East Boothbay. It was where, serendipitously, my life, as I have come to know it, began. Oddly enough, in the scheme of things, my string of good luck and lack of game plans, once again gave me another gift.

Years ago, when we lived on Barters Island, our mail delivery person Edith Lewis mentioned the January thaw. In the late ’70s there were some pretty tough winters when cold and snow settled in early. Mrs. Lewis, who braved some pretty tough winter weather, would remind us that there would be a break in the weather. She also mentioned the “onion snow” of late winter/early spring. These were unfamiliar weather-related phenomenon, but we were always interested in information acquired through the long years’ observations of local residents. Mrs. Lewis certainly experienced considerable weather-related events over her lifetime, so we were inclined to honor her predictions. More often than not, she was correct in sharing patterns she had observed over the years. Back then we were not particularly familiar with weather specific to the area, so it was always a little encouraging to become aware of possible tendencies.

Eventually, most residents on the peninsula pop in to Grover’s Hardware for something. It’s the answer machine for troubled homeowners and beyond. Someone there will help you figure out what it is you need, or don’t need, to fix or repair or replace. I, for one, have been visiting “Hardware Therapy” for as long as I occupied a seat at the table. It’s a good bunch. 

My new year's resolution ..."Out with the old and in with the old." Getting potted with the old buoys!

Last week was a tough week, locally, nationally and internationally. An awful lot going on, much of it sad, heavy stuff.

Recently, during a calendar delivery to Matt Parkhurst, we got to talking, as older friends are prone to do. I landed in the middle of Captain Parkhurst’s rebuilding of a substantial deck created for, among other things, the stacking and storing of firewood. The deck, as Matt suggested, would be built in the way one would expect a pier on the water might be built.

What a wonderfully inspiring community event! The Southport Town Hall was packed with every variety of islander in support of the first ever Southport Central School’s homegrown feast. The initial lunch crowd trickled in for early grub but then the second wave of guests arrived ready to be served by school students and their band of merry Parent Teacher and community helpers. It was a food fest of unrivaled proportions.

It seems to me that our local cormorant population has packed up and headed elsewhere. Elsewhere, I suspect, is someplace warmer than Maine. Even southern Maine may not be far enough.

Music is wonderful.

No matter where you go in the world, music is part of the journey. It connects culture and supports regional history. Music is as much of a cultural identity as the very people it accompanies.

Our old barn road winds down through some aging spruce, through a wet area, on its way to Southport State Road 27. About 100 feet from the end of the barn road, there is a small jog off to the right which skirts some ledge in a particularly dense and scrubby section of pucker brush. Not an area to hang out in but one which requires some trimming back from time to time so entry onto Southport Route 27 doesn’t result in conflicting interests!