August 7, 2001

Jericho Bay, Maine

My SO Becky, my son Ian, and I visited the Jericho Bay/Brooklin/East Deer Isle area in Maine the last two weeks. There was a lot of visiting, eating, and noshing with long-time friends who now live in Brooklyn ... and, we did some paddling. This is mostly about the paddling.

We spent three nights centered on one of the Maine Island Trail Association islands off Naskeag Point, just a mile or so from the only good launch point in the area (Naskeag Harbor). We actually launched from a small public ramp in Center Harbor, west of our island a few miles, adjacent to Steve White's boat building shop. (Steve White is E.B. White's grandson. E.B. wrote "Charlotte's Web.") However, that launching area is not recommended, owing to lack of both parking and "facilities." Naskeag Harbor has a portapotty and a fair amount of parking.

As confirmed died-in-the-wool west coast paddlers, we were curious (and skeptical) about Maine's reputation as a paddling Mecca. Our skepticism was both confirmed and denied: this part of Maine's coast is an incredible and -- a frustrating place to paddle.

What it ain't: It is not rugged. It is not wild. It is not "exciting." It is not particularly challenging. And, it sure as hell ain't isolated! (Note: further Down East -- towards Nova Scotia -- those attributes kick in.)

What Jericho Bay is: Drop-dead beautiful, just gorgeous water for paddling. Also, terrifically mellow for muscle-powered craft. It's easy-going. And, most important of all: a model for how to make good use of public lands for recreation.

Over a two-week span, we had temperatures running from the low 70's to the low 90's, only one day of real rain, and only two days when the wind got above ten knots! Being used to the "afternoon hurricane," we found ourselves in perpetual flinch mode, anticipating a walloping from wind. Never happened. Apparently, almost never happens ... in summer.

We loved it. We basked on rocks, ate ourselves silly in camp, out of camp, and in our boats. Rowed our friend Tom's little dory around our island. Goofily ogled lobster boats as they serviced their pots. Admired the windjammer fleet and dozens of stone-lovely wooden power boats motoring by. Stared in awe at heaps of stately mansions scattered discreetly along the shoreline, genteelly placed so one megamillionaire did not have to stare into the windows of his/her neighbor. Paddled off on a couple easy day trips to distant islands with funny names (Lazygut, Opechee, Potato, and Sheep, Sheep, Hog, Hog, Little Hog, Goat -- yes, they use the same name for different islands, only separated by a few miles!).

MITA deserves recognition for the sensible way they steward the islands in their stable. The management is rooted in realistic appreciation of what can work and avoids most of the trappings of "official" systems. MITA assesses an annual fee (most of which is tax-deductible). The fee provides a member with a guide to MITA islands. There is no added fee for use of MITA sites. In addition, MITA membership is not a requirement for use. Finally, MITA sends a guy around in a power boat (once a week or so?) to check on conditions and make sure no trace practices are followed.

I spent a good bit of time in wonder that the "settled" coast could have an outdoor recreation system saddled with fewer rules than the systems we see out here on the "wild" coast. I'm still wondering, although the history and influence of "old money" ownership in the area of coastal Maine we visited could not be duplicated in the West.

Yet, I missed the rain, the wind, the swell. If I go back, it will be for an extended on-the-water adventure, a one-way trip from somehere east of Jericho Bay to another place even further east, dodging points and currents.
---
Dave Kruger
Astoria, OR

Copyright 2001 by Dave Kruger.
May not be reproduced or redistributed without author's permission.
Originally posted on Paddlewise mailing list on 8/7/2001.
Republished here with permission.