First off, let me preface this week’s adventure with a small disclaimer:  “I don’t get out much!” 

And that’s not an accident. It’s not that I am antisocial; it's just that there isn’t much incentive to leave the ranch. Plenty to do here! But last week was completely not hermit time. 

A friend from Maryland, not far from Washington, D.C., told me about his drive to Maine on Friday, Oct. 10. It wasn’t pretty!    

It has been a while since I set foot on Burnt Island. The last time I visited was the 200th anniversary of Burnt Island Light, one of the oldest lighthouses on the Maine coast, in November of 2021. There were fireworks and a significant gathering across the bay viewed from the Spruce Point Inn. Everyone was excited to see the Light lit, which it was, as soon as daylight diminished, which it did. Elaine Jones and a devoted group of “Keepers of the Light” made great effortsto bring justified attention to one of the area’s most historic structures.

Joe Gelarden shared a story, as he often does, with me about his first writing job attempt in his hometown of Indianapolis, Indiana, at The Indianapolis Star.

My first encounter with Mr. Cronkite was in the mid-80s when he and an entourage were visiting Boothbay Harbor during a Windjammer Days event. He was selling and signing a book he co-authored titled “North by Northeast” regarding sailing to Maine from New Jersey.

Try this one on for size!

Before going out on any job there are a few things to check over with my equipment. In the age of technology, and I am not a technologist, things can go wrong without really knowing. The new generations of digital cameras have so many buttons and controls that it's entirely possible to inadvertently move a setting that can send a camera system into orbit. I like to avoid orbit, especially when in the midst of an assignment.

The front entrance door of Boothbay Harbor United Methodist Church, on Townsend Avenue, was open on a beautiful sunny day. I was a bit early for my visit, but as soon as I walked into the church, Tammy Judkins greeted me from her office beside the central sanctuary behind the access wall to the church organ.

I met Rhonda Selvin in 1977 when we both worked at the Tugboat Inn. Rhonda was part of a talented restaurant waitstaff and I was the night janitor. Back then the thefood service area occupied the entire length of the building with seating for a ton of people. Also, back then, Tugboat Inn was owned by George McEvoy, Dan Derepentigny and Clem Brewer, an interestingly diverse trio.

Our daughters attended Sheepscot Valley Children’s House on Federal St. in Wiscasset in the early 1990s. That’s where we met (Miss) Ethel Stansfield. Recently we returned to the school, along with probably, at least 100 other folks to pay our respects, honoring Ethel and the gift she gave to us all. Ethel passed in July after some serious health challenges.

From my earliest years here in Maine, Monhegan has held an almost mystical fascination for me and ultimately my family. Every summer or fall someone in our circle of friends, members of our family or visiting guests makes a restorative visit to the island. It’s an almost imperative day trip, overnight, or longer stay.

It was not easy to schedule a visit with Alana LaCourse, recently crowned Miss Maine’s Teen. 

But between her very demanding commitments and my leisurely random sunbathing at the beach, we finally connected during a dance class at the YMCA annex. Unforeseen complications caused me to be a bit late for our meeting. Twenty minutes waiting at a long opening of the Southport bridge was followed by difficult access to the Y Annex while CMP worked on lines. Then I inappropriately walked through the construction site for which I was not awarded a gold star! Finally, I breached the perimeter and entered a large room full of dancing children learning new moves accompanied by famous Bruno Mars “Uptown Funk” music! Alana led the class with some pretty jazzy moves. 

Every summer in late July, when I was a kid, there was a county fair in the next town over from where we grew up in central Pennsylvania. It may very well have been the biggest event of the year in our part of the world. A major part of the festivities was the arrival of the James E. Strates Shows, the fourth largest carnival midway in the nation. It arrived by train in the middle of the night, on a railroad track that ran through the center of town. The coal trains that used the line were diverted until all the animals and equipment were unloaded. The empty train cars were set off onto a siding at a nearby rail yard until the end of the fair for reloading. This was huge for me. I got to go and stay with my grandmother for a week and attend the fair several times.

If you were ever even a little bit interested in “the way things used to be,” you really should visit Southport Historical Society’s wonderful collection of unique treasures at their home base museum. The historic 1810 museum building (Cameron House) was moved to its present location at 419 Hendricks Hill Road, from its original location on Ebenecook Road on Southport. The museum is open to visitors from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday in July and August with expanded Saturday hours during September. 

Attendees at the Boothbay Harbor Opera House Tim Sample Show got a good "Sample-ing" of Maine and local humor. According to Mr. Sample, it was the last performance in the town where he grew up. The Opera House was packed, and Tim did not disappoint. Old friends, family and a significant number of “people from away” put aside their cares in the world for an evening of joy-filled stories, observations and occasional music. I was somewhat saddened by the fact that there were no “skidders” parked in the woods adjacent to the Opera House. But that did not impact the clear picture Tim painted from early band performances up Kingfield way! 

For me, Windjammer Days brings back memories from some 50 odd years of witnessing this special event. There have been lots of changes, but fundamentally, it's a tribute to, by and for a coastal community connected to the seas for centuries and an historic tradition. 

Last week’s story about my memory and lost items has yielded some fascinating responses. I guess I’m not the only person with this unique assortment of tendencies. One reaction in particular was so wonderful that I wanted to share before launching into a new tale.

From childhood, Nancy Merrill visited with her family at their Southport, Cozy Harbor residence. The three and half-hour trip from Jackman was always worth the arrival at her final destination overlooking the harbor just across the Pratt’s Island road from the iconic Rand boathouse at the water’s edge. Nancy’s mother grew up in the family house with parents Mr. and Mrs. Roscoe Rand Sr. A more idyllic location is hard to imagine and Nancy took full advantage of her time and visits.

I’ve misplaced my sunblock! Ha!

Continuing on with the theme of summer, a followup on last week’s fishing experience column, I remain invested in an archive dive from days gone by. To this end, allow me to share brief recollections of my Antonisa experience.

With recent forecasts looking a bit glum, and additionally, with my fog infatuation, I figured it might be better to look elsewhere for this week’s adventure. So, a deep archive dive was in order. And look what I found!