In the Right Place: Center Harbor and BBY Report

The tide was fairly high, the fog lifting, and the wind just the slightest of whispers when I went down to Center Harbor yesterday. Although the day was gray, the scene was delightful. There were a good number of interesting vessels still moored in the reflective fall waters. As usual, the big construction building of the renowned Brooklin Boat Yard cast the largest reflection.

BBY’s new pier, gear shed, and docking floats appeared to have been mostly restored. (As you may remember, they were virtually destroyed in last winter’s vicious storms.)

Syntax, the BBY-built Wheeler 55 that I’ve previously reported on, was still tied up out front, and the usual crowd of interesting dinghies and other access boats were nestled together like an enormous farm litter.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on October 4, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Passing the Buck Carefully

We looked closely and determined that one of the twin white-tailed deer fawns that we monitor is a buck. (Eagle-eyed Jim Stascavage was right.) You can see the fawn’s “buttons” in this gross enlargement of an image taken Wednesday:

Here are views of the healthy twins and their Mom, who treats her youngsters equally:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on October 2, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch XXV

Here you see the 130-foot ketch “Angelique” on Tuesday. She’s discharging her passengers onto the western beach of Babson Island where they likely will have an exquisite lunch and an opportunity to explore the rim of the island, climb into its wooded highlands, and roam through the fern fields at its center.

That Island commonly is called Big Babson because there is a small, private island known as Little Babson about 1000 feet to the north, which is virtually connected at low tide. Here’s a chart that includes water depths:

The waters to the east of the islands generally are considered to be Great Cove. The images of “Angelique” above were taken from the Cove shore.

Big Babson now is a public preserve being conserved by the Maine Coast Heritage Trust, which also issued the chart here. The Island was sold to the Trust in 2011 after local residents and others contributed large amounts of money to the Trust to have it preserved in perpetuity. (Photograph taken in Brooklin, Maine, on October 1, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Hog Calling

Here you see Dennis Black beginning the annual mowing of our restored fields yesterday. The job often takes more than a day due to some significant slopes and other terrain irregularities. It also can be challenging when the soil is wet.

We postpone the mowing of our fallow fields until the fall to assure that their summer residents – multitudes of birds, insects, reptiles, and other animals – are no longer raising their families there.

The cutting is necessary to prevent quick-growing raspberry bushes, conifer trees, and other larger plants from reappearing and changing the density of the land cover. Many of us have created and maintained fields of wild grasses, sedges, and wildflowers because such environments are disappearing in the United States, endangering the species that breed and live in them.

For equipment buffs: Dennis is riding an AGCO Allis 5670 tractor and pulling what I think is a Woods single-spindle rotary cutter. That type of cutter (or “mower”) commonly is called a “bush hog,” which is not quite correct.

A “Bush Hog®” is a brand name that should be applied only to the field and brush-cutting machines of Bush Hog LLC, headquartered in Selma, Alabama. (That company advertises that, when it first demonstrated its invention in 1951, an amazed farmer said: “That thing eats bushes like a hog.”)

Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on October 1, 2024.

September Postcards From Down East Maine

This September was, with one major exception, a wonderful month here. Most days were sunny and mild with a slight chill that was more thrilling than chilling. The exception was a consequence of that type of weather: We didn’t get enough rain and fell prey to moderate drought and potential wild fire danger. But we got some good rain toward the end of the month and hope to get more in October.

As for these September postcards, we’ll start as usual with the four local vistas that we document monthly through the year. Here are the September views of clouds over the western mountains of Mount Desert Island at sunset; the virtual mountain known as Blue Hill at the end of Blue Hill Bay at high tide; the iconic red boat house in Conary Cove at low tide, and the summer house on Brooklin’s Harbor Island in a light rain:

We’ll move now to the flora of September with its fruits and warmer early fall colors. The most memorable wild fruit trees were the many abandoned apple trees that we have, both red- and green-fruited, and the orange-fruited mountain ash trees:

The most colorful of September-shaded leaves were the deep reds of viburnum, pale yellows of katsura, and merlot shades of stewartia, although a few maples began to show some reds and yellows:

Of course, it’s the September fields that capture the changing spirit of the season. The greens disappear and the yellows and browns of goldenrod, whites of daisy fleabane, and pastels of pasture asters crowd each other:

The summer colors disappeared in the region’s September gardens and flower patches, but we saw the last of the healthy roses, clematis, and gladiolas during the month:

Marshes, ponds, and woods streams didn’t go dry in the drought conditions, but pond levels dropped and streams that once flowed powerfully became weak or pooled with slow water.

On the fauna front, September is when deer and red squirrels grow their thicker and grayer winter coats and the once small and speckled fawns grow large and fast enough to shed their camouflage speckles toward the end of the month:

Radical changes occur in September among our winged fauna who would rather spend their winters down south. This probably is the last full month that we’ll see our fish-eating great blue herons and ospreys. However, our loyal herring gulls and black-capped chickadees stay with us all year.

This September was a good month for sighting peril-ridden monarch butterflies and their caterpillars, but there were few chrysalises evident. What apparently was the last toad of the year also was sighted during the month.

On the waterfront, September is when the annual Windjammer Sail-In occurs in Great Cove. Seven ‘jammers visited Great Cove then and at other times during the month in varying weather:

American Eagle

Angelique

Heritage

J&E Riggin

Ladona

Lewis R. French

Stephen Taber

The working waterfront at Naskeag Harbor was very busy in September, one of the more intensive months for lobster fishing. It’s the last month of fishing for some fishermen; others will continue for a month or more. We’re told that it’s been a relatively good season with mostly steady, fair prices.

Below are images of the convenience raft in the Harbor that sells bait and fuel and buys lobsters from the fishermen, as well as images of most of our resident fishing vessels during various September days. Note that no two vessels are identical:

On the educational waterfront, the WoodenBoat School’s sailing classes ended in the first half of September. The School’s harbor staff spent the rest of the month removing the classroom fleet from Great Cove and preparing it for winter storage. When the boats leave the Cove, it looks strangely vacant until flocks of ducks and other waterfowl lay claim to the area for the fall and winter.

Sailing is not the only attraction that draws people to our waters. Some prefer to propel themselves, others to paint their beauty, and still others to cast in them for stiped bass:

In case you didn’t notice, 2024 is a Presidential election year. It became abundantly evident here in September from the lawn signs, including some that were so artistic you couldn’t read them from a moving vehicle:

The September full moon — the Harvest Moon — was a good one. It formed first as a gold crescent and then arrived as a supermoon:

Finally, late September is when you buy your pumpkins to make Jack-O’-Lanterns in October and scare away witches and politicians:

(All images in this post were taken in Down East Maine during September 2024.)

In the Right Place: Winterizing

Here you see the tide and a Tom Curry cloud slowly leaving Great Cove yesterday morning. But, you don’t see any of the many boats that give the Cove a wonderfully different – though not necessarily better – character during the summer. The winter ducks and loons are now slowly replacing them.

In the above image, you’re looking West-Northwest through the Cove to Eggemoggin Reach. That’s Little Babson Island on the left and the WoodenBoat School pier on the right. The speck in front of the island is a WBS mooring raft used to install and remove moorings; it soon will be brought in. Tom Curry (as many of you know) is a renowned Brooklin artist who often paints distinctive clouds over islands.

Actually, there still are two or three vessels in the southwestern corner of the Cove near the end of Babson Island, which are unseen here to the left of Little Babson. These late leavers soon will be brought ashore for the winter, but they still include “Frolic,” our neighbor’s beautiful Luders 16:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 29, 2024.)

In the Right Place: September Blues

Here you see our September record image of Blue Hill and Blue Hill Bay. The virtual mountain and its bay patiently wait for the sun to filter through one of those worn-blanket September skies that create a premonition of winter while we still have green leaves.

(Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on September 21, 2024.

In the Right Place: Ending Well Department

Another poignant passing: The WoodenBoat School’s 2024 year officially ends today. All of the School’s boats are out of the water and Great Cove seems like a vacant parking lot, albeit the most beautiful one you’ll ever see.

The sights, sounds, and smells of sailing, boatbuilding, and other maritime-oriented activities are gone from the campus until June of 2025. As you see here, the grounds yesterday were littered with boats and equipment being prepared for winter storage or transportation elsewhere.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 27, 2024.)

In the Right Place: More of the Same, Please

Below, you’ll see our bird bath in the much-needed soaking rain that fell here yesterday.  But it probably wasn’t nearly-enough.

We were classified in yesterday’s federal U.S. Drought Monitor as experiencing “moderate drought” along the Maine coast and “abnormally dry” in much of the rest of the state:

We’re not the only eastern state to be experiencing dryness problems. The Monitor reported yesterday that, “dryness has nearly depleted topsoil moisture, which was rated 91% very short to short in Maryland, along with 90% in Delaware, 84% in New Jersey, 78% in Massachusetts, and 70% in Maine.” You can find the drought/dryness status of your area on the U.S. Drought Monitor’s website.

(Photo taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 26, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Two September Moods

Here are two moods of September in everchanging Naskeag Harbor. This first is a familiar sight on a gray day, a scene that makes it easier to think the serious thoughts about life here compared to elsewhere. That’s the summer house on Harbor Island looking at the Fishing Vessel “Dear Abbie:”

The second, below, is another familiar sight, but on a sunny day that makes it easy to think the playful thoughts that cleanse the mind. That’s “The Point” or “Naskeag Point” at the end of the partial (gravelly) “sand bar” or “The Bar” that always points to something you want to see:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 20 [house] and 24 [Point], 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch XXIV

Here you see the schooner “American Eagle,” being caught by a sunbeam in Great Cove on Monday morning, a mostly cloudy day:

She had overnighted there and departed under darkening skies:

This 122-foot jammer out of Rockland, Maine, was on a four-night island-hopping cruise that featured live Celtic music by Drank the Gold, a duo from New York State, according to her schedule. Her coastal cruising is scheduled to end this year on September 29.  (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 23, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Class Notes

Our 2024 class of white-tailed deer fawns is growing very fast and looking healthy as we enter autumn. Above, you see one of our regulars on Saturday, wondering what my intentions are. Below, you’ll see what I think is the same deer (or certainly a contemporary) as she appeared in July:

These fawns, if they survive a high infant fatality rate, grow extremely fast. They have to be ready to fend for themselves in an often-harsh winter. They usually weigh between 4 and 8 pounds when born in the spring and will weigh about 60-70 pounds by the time winter sets in, according to the literature. They achieve about 60 percent of their body growth during their first year. Most lose their fawn spots when it gets cooler and they begin growing their winter coats.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 21 and July 30, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch XXIII

Here you see the schooner “Stephen Taber,” which has no internal engine; it’s being pushed out of Great Cove early Thursday morning:

She had had a beach party at Babson Island on Wednesday and overnighted just off the island. The “Taber” had no sails up as she departed because it would have been a useless act – there was virtually no wind.

This 110-foot jammer out of Rockland, Maine, was on a six-night, full-moon-viewing cruise that featured wine and cheese-tasting, according to her schedule. (The Harvest Moon, a supermoon, was big and bright in our dark sky last week.)

The “Taber’s” schedule also states that, after this cruise, she’ll be conducting four more trips and then ending her season on October 11. Let’s hope her vast supply of good wine can keep her passengers warm and happy while they explore the Maine coast’s beautiful fall foliage. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 19, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Autumn’s Quiet Arrival

Today is the first day of fall and this is how it looked in a quiet corner here early this morning:

The lawn grass is still mostly green; the viburnum bushes are not quite all purple-red, the hay-scented fern is mostly golden and brown, and the katsura tree’s leaves are just starting to turn bright yellow.

It’s time to buy some chrysanthemums to ease the annual pain of summer leaving us without a goodbye. While you’re getting the mums, you might as well get a pumpkin and make a Jack-O’-lantern to ward away the witches and scary politicians. Mainescape in Blue Hill has a nice selection of each, mums and pumpkins, that is:

(Images taken in Brooklin and Blue Hill, Maine, on September 21 [pumpkins] and 22 [lawn, etc.], 2024.)

In the Right Place: Windjammer Watch XXII

Here you see the ketch “Angelique” at rest in Great Cove early Wednesday morning. She had had a beach party at Babson Island the day before and overnighted just off the island. Her passengers were exploring the WoodenBoat School in the Cove when this image was taken.

When they returned aboard, she departed with almost all sails up, but had difficulty catching the wind:

This 130-foot jammer out of Camden, Maine, was on a six-night educational cruise that featured lessons by a historian and a naturalist, according to her schedule. That schedule states that she’ll be conducting three more cruises before ending her season on October 7. Let’s hope her passengers bring warm clothes and see some beautiful foliage.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 18, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Getting High at Work, Two Options

Above, you see a cluster of bucket trucks replacing utility poles in Brooklin this week. The mechanized buckets can be raised and moved about by the operators inside them who are insulated from the electricity, but they sometimes look like alien invaders (or a snow crab on its back) when they work together.

Below, you’ll see a hometown adaptation to getting high at work. The “bucket” there is the bed of an ancient International Harvester dump truck. It has mobility, but its range on this job is pretty much limited to forward and backward. It’s also big enough to hold two basic ladders – for high and higher work. The ladders are capable of left and right movements controlled by the operator on this job.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 10 [ladders] and 17 [buckets], 2024.)

In the Right Place: O’ Nest Report XV

It’s been weeks since I’ve reported on activity at the Osprey Nest. The reason is that I’ve seen no significant activity there during my regular visits. However, on Monday, I did see a dramatic event over nearby Great Cove, part of which is captured in the image below. It probably will interest those who have been following the Osprey Nest summer saga.

But first, a brief backgrounder for newcomers: The Osprey Nest is the spring and summer residence of an energetic fish hawk couple whom we’ve dubbed Ozzie and Harriet for narration ease. This year, as usual, they raised three youngsters – David, Ricky, and June – who have been flying since August.  At that point, Harriet (having performed well her part of the propagation-of-the-species ritual) disappeared from the nest.

David and Ricky occasionally returned to the nest for short visits, but not June, the youngest who was born in June; she hung out there daily and was fed regularly in the nest by Ozzie. June did not seem to be trying to learn how to fish for herself. In late August, activity at the nest appeared to cease – not even short visits, at least when I was there. The home appeared to have been vacated for the year.

However, on Monday, I saw this event high over Great Cove. The immature osprey at the bottom there was flying loop-de-loops with that mature osprey. The older bird was carrying a fish and the younger one was begging loudly. It looked and sounded like June begging Ozzie for food (described in past reports), but this older bird wasn’t in the mood to share even a bite.

Yesterday, I checked Ozzie and Harriet’s high-rise home again for 15 minutes – it still appeared vacated until next spring:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 16 and 18, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Super

Above, you see last night’s full moon rising in the east behind the tall conifers atop Great Cove Ridge. It soon hurdled them and sailed high and westward over the Cove, chasing one sunset after another:

This was a special moon. It was a “supermoon” because it came within 90 percent of the moon’s closest orbit around Earth. It also went through a partial lunar eclipse by entering part of the Earth’s shadow, although that event was not spectacular.

Native Americans in the northeast called this September full moon the Corn Moon because it appeared at the time for gathering the major corn crop (as well as pumpkins, squash, beans, and wild rice). Colonial farmers here called it the Harvest Moon because it provided enough light to harvest the summer’s crops, including corn, beans, squash, tobacco, wheat, and cotton.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 17, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Getting Low

Above you see the tide leaving Conary Cove last week. It reached dead low one hour and 43 minutes after this image was taken; then, it slowly rose to an impressive 10.5 high tide, according to the Blue Hill Bay charts. At many high tides, the Cove’s granite ledges virtually disappear, and, from some perspectives, the iconic red boat house looks like it is floating. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on September 13, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Color It Bright

Here you see the Fishing Vessel “Dream On’” and one of her crew hauling some of her lobster-fishing gear ashore in Naskeag Harbor last week.

As I sit here, I can’t think of a line of work that has more colorful and oddly-shaped gear than the lobstermen’s (a term that includes women here).

The traps usually are yellow or some other bright color and they’re complex rectangles with circular and rectangular innards. Mesh bait bags in the traps usually are orange or another bright color. The bullet-shaped buoys are bright color combinations that are unique to the fisherman. The fishermen often wear bright yellow or orange waterproof fishing pants. The idea, apparently, is to make everything noticeable in the water (including a fisherman that has gone overboard).

As for the oddly-shaped lobsters that the fishermen catch, here’s what the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration says: “Lobsters come in just about every color but red. They can be blue, light yellow, greenish-brown, grey, dusty orange, some calico, and some with spots. However, they all turn red when they hit hot water.”

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on September 10, 2024.)