San Francisco has no monopoly. We are, after all, the City in the Bay.
Tag: Downeast
Welcome to Cobscook Friends
As a small, rural Quaker fellowship, we’re especially happy to be worshipping together in one space every Sunday again, at least through the summer and early autumn.
Covid, of course, had us connected only by Zoom through much of the Covid onslaught and after that, coming together in a physical space on alternative weeks only. We do live at distances from the meetinghouse, so winter weather can often be a challenge.
Not so summer. We’d love to have others join us in our hour of mostly silent centering, beginning at 9:30 on Sunday mornings. The meetinghouse is in the woods along Maine Route 189 in Whiting – on the way to Lubec and many great outdoors trails.
If you meditate in some practice, you’ll fit right in – and if that seems foreign, it’s still a great time for personal reflection. I always find it renewing.
Finally, a decent seafood selection Way Downeast
Even though we live a block from the ocean, we’ve been perplexed by the selection of local seafood available in the region’s markets. Or more accurately, it’s lack.
The bigger supermarkets have been a disappointment, and the smaller ones, quite limited.
The best overall selection we’ve found, especially for local catch, is Earle’s SUV that shows up on U.S. 1 down in Machias on selected days. That’s an hour away.
For crab, clams, and scallops, it’s Betty’s seasonal shack in Pembroke, about 20 minutes from home.
Other than that, it’s meant going directly to the fishermen, if you know where they are.
Finally, we’re feeling upbeat. The reopening of Quoddy Lobster’s dining operation, just a block from us, includes a fresh seafood counter.
New owner Look Lobster, a fifth-generation family company in Jonesport, has already invested heavily in the Eastport site by rebuilding the pier for straight-from-the-boat deliveries. Last summer it became my go-to place for fresh retail lobster, especially for anything over a pound and a half.
Now that the end-of-the-street site is serving traditional lobster plates for the first time since Covid, it won’t be long before the outdoor picnic tables by the sea are soon packed with devoted fans. The place, a very popular destination both among tourists and locals, was much missed.
Me with what’s left of a three-pound lobster
Swimming hole
I’ll let others swing out on that rope.
As it says on the bridge.
You can even just sit in one of the little basins in the fish ladder and let the water rush over you.
Now, for our big whirlpool
One of Eastport’s travel attractions is the “Old Sow,” the world’s second biggest whirlpool or the biggest one in the Western Hemisphere.
~*~
Before you make reservations to come see it, let me point out a few things.
- Its intensity varies greatly, depending on the gravitational tides cycle. It’s best about three hours before high tide, especially around the new and full moons when 40 billion cubic feet of water flood through the half-mile-wide passage to Passamaquoddy Bay.
- Its swirling diameter can reach 250 feet or drop 12 feet into its vortex, but it’s also likely to appear as a series of boiling countercurrent piglets and eddies.
- Most of the time, it’s not particularly visible from land. It is, however, a regular feature on Butch Harris’ whale watch runs. And even then, it will likely be a disappointment if you’re expecting to see a big hole in the water.
- It remains, nonetheless, a hazard to small boaters and has claimed lives, most notably in 1835 when a mother watched from shore as a two-masted schooner was sucked down with her two sons. The young men were never seen again.
- Another account, from the late 1800s, tells of two men with a barge loaded with logs, that went under and the bodies never found.
- It’s closer to Deer Island, New Brunswick, than Eastport, Maine, in part a consequence of public works construction of a causeway to the north during the Great Depression that pushed the current eastward.
- The name likely derives from the mispronunciation of “sough” as “sow” rather than “suff,” reflecting a “sucking noise” or “drain.” Or even “grunting.”
- The phenomenon arises from a unique funneling of powerful currents over a sharp trench on the seafloor, with water rising abruptly from 400 feet to 119 feet. It then intersects other trenches to thicken the action.
- The upswell brings nutrients and small sea creatures from the depths to the surface.
- The channel’s ferocious currents can run six to seven knots, a special hazard for divers as well as small boats.
Woodland trail, Shackford Head
Looking one one.
Or, if you turn around, the other.
A 17th century herb garden
Well, this is how it looked last September.
The English colonists knew their herbs and spices, as shown in the Pemaquid state historical site’s garden. The selection includes bee balm, betony (lamb’s ear), celandine, chamomile, chives, clove pink, crane’s bill, dill, evening primrose, feverfew, Johnny jump up, lady’s mantle, lavender, lemon balm, mint, parsley, sage, savory, tansy, tarragon, thyme, and yarrow. Many of these were grown for their medicinal applications.
We never had much more than salt and pepper back in the ‘50s, at least as I recall as a kid.
Dewy web
I looked out from the kitchen sink window and saw this:
With the Suncatcher House in the background.
Making the best of a break in the fog and rain
We’re feeling sorry for vacationers to our end of Maine the past two weeks. Especially those with children in tow.
It’s been cold – our furnace is still on – and very foggy and damp, accompanied by showers and thunderstorms.
It’s not what you’d want to run into on your well-earned summer getaway.
At least we’re getting a break, however brief.
Today’s forecast is for mostly cloudy, followed by two partly cloudy days. And then another solid streak of rainy days resumes.
Glimpses of real sunlight and blue sky will lift spirits, no doubt. I might even stop reminding folks of six straight months or so of this for people living in Seattle. (You know, it could be worse. We might even have to start watching movies in German.)
One thing you can also anticipate is the sound of lawnmowers the moment the grass dries sufficiently. Otherwise, a failure to mow in time can lead to an impossible task, as I remember when I had to learn to scythe back in Dover … and my vow to myself never to do that again.
For us, it also means doing laundry. We have a washer here but not a dryer. So we’re anticipating hanging wet clothes and linens out on the line to dry. There is a backlog to address.
Another must-do is a big round of grilling. Maybe even dining al fresco, if the temperature cooperates.
Well, as we’ve been saying all along, this too will pass.
Jnana's Red Barn 