During many Windjammer Days, Captain Mark Stover invites family and friends (and sometimes paying customers) to go out on his boat Redhook for a fun ride around the Harbor and out among the islands to watch the ships come in. 

Bev Jackson could never have foreseen the unforeseeable.

When Bev's daughter, Teri, from North Carolina called on her cell phone to say hi and asked what she was doing, Bev replied that she was sitting on her porch overlooking the lake, relaxing. She in turn asked Teri what she was doing and Teri said “I’m at the front door, could you let me in?” I don’t think Bev believed her but went to the

My father liked trains.

Where we lived in central Pennsylvania, trains were the life blood of our economy, pumping mountains of freight and moving thousands of people. The coal industry was completely dependent upon a massive network of tracks that stretched throughout the state and across the country.

Peter, Paul and Mary. Ronnie, Sally and Dickie. Similar rhythm, liked the beat, easy to dance to (“American Bandstand,” 1965)! Similar, but different. In some ways though, there is a similarity in the way both “trios” share their music.

At this year’s Opera House “Hometown Hootenanny” Ronnie, Sally and Dickie played “California Dreamin’” by the Mamas & the Papas and it was a perfect fit for our three local troubadours. You could feel the audience at the Opera House connect. It was lovely.

Erik Carlson doesn’t get out of the woods very often. He works in the woods. He lives in the woods, and he “woodn’t” have it any other way.

It’s interesting, what causes us to remember. Smells, I know are very powerful triggers. A sound, or a piece of music. The feel of a certain texture. Or, in my case, a robin.

Thursday is not a particularly special day of the week, unless of course, you work four 10-hour days and commute to Boothbay Harbor from Lincolnville Maine. In this case, Thursday is liberation day, especially if you’ve driven through the ice and snow of winter. But you didn’t have to drive from Lincolnville for last Thursday’s event at the Boothbay Harbor Opera House. You just had to climb some stairs.

In 1977, Horace Lee, with Ethelyn Giles riding shotgun, helped us buy our first home on upper Kimballtown Road, Barters Island. It was an old close knit neighborhood with lots of character.

 “and in this presence how much ‘elsewhere’ lurks,” Jenny Joseph, “BEACHED BOATS”

We have always been big fans of CBS “Sunday Morning,” especially during the Charles Kuralt years. One Sunday morning in the late ’80s, there was a segment with Liz Carpenter, press secretary for Lady Bird Johnson. In the interview, she shared her interests and mentioned a women's group that met regularly to share favorite passages from books and writers.

So, generally I try to arrange my Hannaford meetings for the produce section. It’s a little more spacious with good lighting and nice atmosphere. Friends seem to enjoy the setting and it is convenient to all public transportation.

Andrei Bazaiac was born in Stefanesti, Romania, in December of 1988, almost exactly one year before the revolution that ended Communist Ceausescu's crippling stranglehold on the country. From 1947 until 1989, the Romanian people lost properties and freedom creating rampant fear and distrust. It was a very disabling time.

We arrived at the main entrance of St. Andrews Village at 12:03 p.m. to pick up John Druce. We found him standing outside at the curb chatting with an attractive young lady, knowing that he had probably been there since 11:45 a.m. It’s a Marine thing.

My father, also a Marine, was of similar disposition — being late for anything meant time in the brig.

What a privilege to witness the release of two snowy owls on Fisherman's Island. One flew east and one went north. The east flyer landed on a roof top, looking around, maybe hoping to reunite with its partner. It was promptly greeted by dive bombing crows, but did seem to fend off the attack, as far as we could tell.

Back in the early ’90s, a whole gang of us from the area car pooled to Sheepscot Valley Children’s House in Wiscasset. There were at least eight kiddos from four or five different families. We’d meet at what is now the Back River Road parking lot of Clifford Playground. Everybody had a day for driving and anytime there was a complication, somebody would cover. It was quite a free-for-all when everybody landed with said cargo — car seats, lunches, backup clothing for those unforeseen moments, and lots of chatter from children and parents.

TheErnestina-Morrisseyproject at the old Sample’s Shipyard continues to amaze me.

Recently I got to witness what I think is one of the coolest events ever --- the installation of the “starboard garboard.” The above photo shows mounting the port garboard, however.

The Southport Fire Department meets regularly once a month, and more often when updates and training are needed/required.

This time of year we generally don't do much in the way of outdoor training, due to the shortness of the day, but instead, check and repair equipment at the station. Cold-weather firefighting can take quite a toll on engines and mechanical equipment.

Kevin Kiley and Paul Noah helped us create the most extraordinary Halloweens.

When we lived in the Harbor at the top of Sherman Street, our house became a glowing graveyard of cobwebbed skeletons, howling wolves and a community parade of little goblins and super heroes. It was one of the most festive events of our year, shared by friends and strangers alike. Even Marylouise Cowan visited one year in a phenomenal witch outfit, accompanied by me dressed as a Texas cowboy!

June Elderkin makes a mean blueberry coffee cake. When I visit, if the blueberries are in at Hannaford, there's a good chance for fresh baked goods. So, I got a little anxious when Finn Carroll, who was doing some tree work for June, told me that he had great blueberry coffee cake with her, just prior to my visit.

I was all set with my “Register” adventure for this week and brewing my second cup of Vallejo coffee, produced by our friend Cris, of California. His coffee is terrific.

As my dollup of raw honey properly dissolved in the morning joe, I recalled, for some unknown reason, that I had been asked to refill the bird feeder. My coffee steeped. Opening the back door of the barn, with an open sack of some song bird mix in hand, I was surprised and delighted to see the new snow that had arrived during the night. The snow coated everything creating a fairyland effect. The sun was just starting to break through the clouds. Increasing temperature would bring melting quickly.

How many of you have ever wondered where the Boothbay Register (and Wiscasset Newspaper) comes from? That's what I thought.