I live in Maine. Not full time (at least not yet), but a little more each year. I’ve been coming up to this little island – Deer Isle – for over 50 years, since my mom and dad stumbled on it and found it more attractive than the usual tourist haunts. They had grown tired of crowds on Cape Cod, as much as we enjoyed the beaches there. So one year, we stayed at a place called the Eggemoggin Inn, on Little Deer Isle. It was gorgeous – a great big wrap around porch, set on the water, near the charming little Pumpkin Lighthouse. We were hooked – or to be more accurate, they were hooked. It was beautiful, it was remote, there were plenty of things to do, just not touristy things. Dad was happy riding his bike every day and Mom would go for long walks. We ate lobster, dug our own clams, and learned about the culture of this little island.
Thus it began. Each summer, they would go online and find a charming house to rent. Over the years we stayed in rental houses on all parts of the island – Little Deer, Sunshine (east side), Sunset (west side) and then discovered Stonington, all the way down at the southern tip of Deer Isle.
The island was something we never tired of. My brother and I were young when we first started coming, but I remember clearly each house we rented and how much we looked forward to coming. Kids have lots of priorities when they are young, often these priorities don’t require hanging out with parents….but I don’t remember it that way. I went on bike rides with my dad – when I was old enough – and went for runs on beautiful routes all ove the island. I learned how to properly cook and eat a lobster (or two, or more) and how to dig for clams. It seemed that there was no end to the things we could do on this island. If we tried to describe it to others, however, it always came out sounding boring.
“what do you do up there?” people would ask. There was no night life and not many shops of any notoriety (read ‘none’) on the island. There is a grocery store for the staples, but if you want to do any substantial shopping you have to leave the island and it’s about a 45 minute drive to get anywhere. We hike, we walk, we bike. We visit the same haunts each year.
Eventually, Dad retired and of course (“Florida is for old people,” he used to say) they went to Deer Isle. Dad had fallen in love with Stonington, so there was no doubt where they would settle. They bought some land – about 12 acres – at the end of a 4-mile long road and right on the water. They built a house and planted their flag. Mom and Dad lived there full-time, year-round for about 14 years. The winters were long, but they settled in. Sadly, Dad developed Alzheimers and we were forced to move them off the island in order to get some quality health care. We took the very difficult decision to sell their house, raising enough money to take care of Mom and Dad for the rest of their days. Dad only lasted a couple of years, dying in 2005, but Mom lasted until this year (2022) and always remembered Stonington with her heart.
With my parents off the island, my wife and I went back to renting during summers for a little while. This island sort of gets under your skin, and it’s hard to let it go. Eventually, my smart little bride suggested “let’s see if we can buy some land; they’re not making more land on the water. Then we can decide if we want to build a house.”
One of Dad’s friends was Ron. Ron was Ron Gross, of Ron’s Service Station. It’s where he bought his truck (and eventually I bought mine) but one year, Ron got his real estate license and offered to show us some land on the water, right on Webb’s Cove, near Stonington. Mom was still okay at that point and joined us for our summers on the island. She drive with us down the 1/2 mile dirt road to see the land for sale. It turned out to be for sale by the Myers family, and Mom recognized it immediately – “Is this where the Myers live?” That was fate. Stan and Peg Myers were selling half of the 30 acres they owned on Webb’s Cove. Stan decided it would be nice to sell it to people they have a connection with and who would be good neighbors. Thus – we ended up with 15 acres of woodland right on the water. There were (and still are) paths through all 30 acres, created by Stan for hiking and communing with nature.
The next part of the story is not difficult to guess – a few years (not many) after we bought the land, we built our house. It is set on a hill, and has views of the cove that are glorious. We built something with enough room for the kids and their kids someday (maybe?). It was like planting a flag for our family.
This place is so beautiful. It is clean, unspoiled and gloriously uncrowded. In the summer we get visitors, but it never gets crowded or touristy, like Bar Harbor or some of the towns in southern Maine. We are just too difficult to get to, so we are not “on your way” anywhere and the people who visit need to compete for rooms on an island that only has a limited supply. Downtown Stonington is still just a fishing town. There are 400 lobster boats (the largest lobster port in Maine) and a few places to get a bit to eat and a shop or two, but no real shopping to speak of. The Harbor Cafe is just what it sounds like, a simple cafe. The local grocery store opens at 4am to serve the lobster men (mostly men) who need something before they hit the water.
I thank my lucky stars that all of my kids love it here. I just hope they end up with life partners who love it as much as we do. Frankly, I don’t think I could have married someone who didn’t fall in love with this island the way I do.
Last year, my youngest son Will started his own business – taking people on guided kayak tours of the islands. As it turns out, Stonington is in the middle of an archipelago of over 60 islands, and those in the know call it the best sea kayaking on the east coast. We of course have had our own kayaks for years and can launch from our property when we want (and when the tides permit), but when Will got his Maine guide license, his instructor certification and his Wilderness First Responder certification, this became serious. We are now part of his dream – helping him with a “family run” kayaking business. This has afforded me the opportunity to go on some of his tours and see so many more of the islands than i ever had when Dad was alive. I so wish he could have seen this.
There’s something magical about this place. It’s clean, it’s unspoiled, and it’s beautiful. It’s chock full of wildlife, and I don’t mean lobsters – ospreys, eagles, herons, guillemots, seals, porpoises. We see these neighbors pretty much every day.
I am outside every day. The air smells wonderful, full of the smell of the sea and pine trees. We walk the dogs in the woods twice a day and they love it.
We started a family tradition, years ago, when the kids were small. When we drive on to the island, especially after a time away, we cross a winding causeway between Little Deer and Deer Isle, we all put the windows down and smell the salt air. It feels like our blood pressure goes down right at that point….ahhhhh, we are back.
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