The crunch is on! Businesses are in a corner for help. Many of the seasonal workers have departed. There are help wanted signs all over the place. Some operations have actually had to close due to lack of help. Signs requesting patience from customers can be seen on business entrance doors. It’s a tough situation, especially this time of year. Committed staff is often worn out and with less help, being asked to work more hours and more days.

When I was asked to document the Ernestina-Morrissey project the old Sample yard was under new ownership. Skip Rideout had Florida on his mind, his barge with crane, stationed at the shipyard, doing some work for a Washburn & Doughty railway rebuild, a dedicated crew in tow. Larry Colcord was managing editor and not yet a real estate tycoon, still doing some lawn maintenance work on the side. The Ernestina-Morrissey was in early stages of evaluation with some assessment of work to be done. Nobody was exactly certain about the extent of repairs. I had no clue. The yard needed work. Updates and general repairs evident. A work staff was being assembled and preparations, behind the scenes, for possible sale of the yard bubbling up. Many things were uncertain. The project was a bit complicated. It was an interesting arrangement with Massachusetts which held some challenges – a Massachusetts ship being worked on at a Maine yard. The ship was on the big railway which pretty much constituted a commitment.

First off, before I launch into this week’s adventure, I’d like to mention that I mowed our lawns for the first time in over six weeks! Well, let me clarify. What I mowed wasn’t really grass. It was more like a survivalist side show of weeds, i.e., things that have managed to “grow” during the dryness of this summer. Not a very pretty lot – popping up items seldom seen in good weather days. I’m talking about long-stemmed things with puffs at the top, brown, yellow and orange in color along with Queen Anne’s lace and prickly tormenteds.

For someone who grew up in a very non-sailing community, I have been quite fortunate to rub elbows with many nautical souls. Over the years, I have photographed some pretty amazing projects. Yorel, Liberty and Antonisa at the Hodgdon yard come to mind. Many boats at Goudy & Stevens and Washburn & Doughty, and, of course, the rebuilding of the Ernestina-Morrissey at Bristol Marine, to name a few. It’s been an amazing opportunity for me. I’ve learned so much and yet realize that there is still much I don’t know.

Hundreds, probably thousands of individuals, young and old, will have the opportunity to sail aboard the Ernestina-Morrissey. It will be a floating classroom. But none of those who sail will ever have the opportunity that I have had over the last seven or so years. For me, Pennsylvania coal cracker, nothing is likely to compare to all I have seen and learned while photographing this project. Also, sailing, for those who do, will quite probably be an experience that I will never fully appreciate. I saw the building of a vessel that has great history. It will be for others to learn the art of guiding the Ernestina-Morrissey through the water. That, in and of itself, should be quite an adventure. Perhaps I will get to see that, too.

The other day I found myself stacking firewood in 80 degree heat. Talk about carrying coals to Newcastle! It occurred to me that there was something wrong with that picture. Fortunately, the carrying was short lived. I do not do heat well. And that, my friends, is an understatement. This was made very clear to me when I received an email from a family in Indiana for whom I had just made family photos in the harbor. They were very polite and nice in the context of their email but expressed some dismay about the fact that the photos I had sent to them were not theirs. I believe the way they put it was, “Dear Mr. Mitchell. These are very nice photos, but they are not of us.” I had sent them a recent Georgia family’s photos by mistake. I apologized.

Recently, Joni Mitchell (no relation that I know of) performed at the Newport Folk Festival, 53 years after her first appearance there. It was a very moving and inspirational performance after she had suffered a serious debilitating brain aneurysm.

During her performance, Ms. Mitchell sang one of my favorite all time songs, “Both Sides Now,” which considers the artist’s impressive interactions with clouds and their personal influences. It has always been a very moving song for me, an admirer of clouds — their movements, colors and ever changing formations.

In 1985, in summer, I popped over to say hi to Rob and Renee Patterson who were friends. They were working on their sailboat tied up at the dock behind McSeagulls restaurant. During our visit, Rob mentioned another boat and couple who were also “hanging out” nearby aboard a Paul Luke-built (Aage Nielson design) 51-foot auxiliary ketch named Seaflower. The owners, Jim and Helene LaFleur, were quite friendly and invited me aboard for a visit and tour. We became good friends during and after our visit. It turned out that they were preparing Seaflower for Jim’s solo crossing from Boothbay Harbor to Cork Ireland for the “Cork 800” celebration. I was intrigued and curious.

Coming home to the ranch from the Harbor, my old Jetta and I landed fourth in line at the Southport bridge. It was a delightfully wonderful evening as many are this time of year and our brief pause at the Golden Gate felt quite relaxing. I could see around and through the trees to the north that a dandy sunset was in process.

This will be the last of my Windjammer Days columns for this year. But, I figured since I shared an aerial from the early ’80s, then a photo from 2017, it might be nice to finish up with a view from this year’s event.

Double clutching is a technique I was taught when I first began to drive trucks. So many vehicles nowadays have automatic transmissions; there is no need for an understanding of the double clutch.

There is an old saying, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.” It seems that is a statement I may have heard from my grandmother of Irish ancestors when referring to the “Lightning Glider” sled I had versus the “Lightning Glider” sled I desired! I was a sledding maniac as a kid. Problem was, I crashed a lot. My grandmother recommended restraint, but I preferred something sleeker and faster. I settled for the bird in hand, despite design flaws and patchwork repairs. And, multiple hidden ice patches and formidable tree obstacles along the way.

Lonny Sisson (may he rest in peace but not far from croquet and golf) landed in Maine early in life. When he started a family, producing income became a paramount concern.

The recent annual graduation celebrations remind us of the same events we experienced with our own daughters, Megan and Morgan. We recall with fondness the festivities at school and then later at colleges in Baltimore and Vermont when friends and family from near and far (mostly far) came together to support and give thanks for successfully completing educations and, in some cases, life-changing experiences.

It’s weird sometimes what bubbles up in the wake of tragedy. The “Beach Cove” fire, as awful as it was, caused me to recall my times at “The Lakeview Motel” where I spent a couple years, off and on, as a handy person who would do, or try, almost anything. I mowed, I raked, I washed, I carpentered, painted, washed dishes, tended bar and unloaded luggage from early tour busloads of folks from New Jersey and Pennsylvania. My time at the motel would have been late ’70s, early ’80s.

We record all sorts of events on our “Around Boothbay Harbor” calendar. Big squares for each calendar date allow for a good pile of information. Among those items of record, we record birthdays, anniversaries, deaths, oil change appointments, significant events, doctor appointments, storms, bloomings, bird sightings and much more.

Some weeks things fall out of my head more easily. This past week has been complicated by some losses of old friends. It’s difficult enough for me to come up with weekly adventures, but this time around I just had to throw in the towel and punt. So, as a fall back, I have dredged up a favorite image from the past. I hope it will be OK. It’s an image from a long time ago.

Elbridge Giles and I bonded over dynamite. Not your average coffee table conversation, but an interesting journey, nonetheless.

Let me take this opportunity to introduce our local versions of Google and what used to be the telephone book. If these two ladies don’t know where you can be found, you can’t be. Unless, of course, you have moved into the region within the last 24 hours. In that case Jenny, pictured on the left, or Ashley will have been alerted to your arrival before the last piece of furniture has left the moving van. In other words, these two are the eyes and ears of the peninsula. And both are leaving the post office. Breaks my heart.

Looking out across the open bay this time of year emphasizes some of the luxuries of our coastal community. Lots of unoccupied space, which for me, appeals to my appreciation for calm. In a world full with all sorts of distractions the simplicity of this view helps me be grateful for the gifts we have been given by the coast of Maine. Sort of whittles down to basics without much fluff. A boat, a church and lots of water. The same as it’s always been, at least during our brief stay. This is a view for the ages. A hundred years ago it very well could have been the same.