If
I asked a group of people to define an island, they would probably say, “a
piece of land surrounded by water.” They
might embellish their definition with lyrics or literary phrases such as “no
man is an island,” or “islands are a metaphor of the heart”. Even though some 2,000 islands dot the
world’s oceans, with hundreds of millions of inhabitants, the idea of
remoteness or isolation is inherent in this definition. Islands can make some feel stranded, but as a
vacationer I have always thought of them as an escape from schedules and
obligations.
I
have experienced all of the feelings associated with living on island time over
the years. I also learned that
circumstance and maturity can redefine island life over the course of a
lifetime. My perspective certainly
changed. Gradually I began to understand
that the real question is not how we define an island, but instead how an
island defines us.
There is an air of adventure associated with
time spent on an island. It promises
romance, physical challenges, and sometimes even danger. As a kid, I imagined myself living in novels
and films like Swiss Family Robinson, Treasure Island, and Lord of the Flies.
These days, seasoned by decades on different
islands, I feel as Rachel Lyman Field must have felt when she wrote “Once you
have slept on an island, you’ll never be quite the same.” As I am sure you will
learn from what follows, there is much more to it than the distinctive smell of
mud flats and foggy mists.
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Three
Particular Islands
I hitch three particular islands to my
identity. All are located among the
222-island Casco Bay, which is anchored at its southern end by Portland, Maine,
and reaching “down east” to Halfway Rock Lighthouse and beyond to Cape Small in
Phippsburg. The Casco Bay watershed
covers about a thousand miles, spanning 14 coastal communities
First,
Chebeague Island, the largest island in the bay, is located about 10
miles northeast of Portland. It is
approximately 4.5 miles long, 1.5 miles wide, and encompasses 25 square miles
of ledge and soil where about 350 year-round residents live. The population triples each summer. Ten miles of bumpy roads loop around the
island with few road signs to aid the unfamiliar traveler.
The
second island is Cousins, which lies about 1.5 miles west of the inner
shore of Chebeague. It had about 500
year-round residents within its two square miles, according to the 2010
census. With the latest demand for
coastal real estate, this number has surely increased. Unlike Chebeague, which has no bridge, Cousins
is linked to the mainland town of Yarmouth by a substantial bridge. Also, Cousins is connected by a modest
50-foot span to nearby Little John’s island, which has more than 100 residents
and is about a square mile in size.
Bailey Island is third, situated
further to the northeast, close to the head of Casco Bay. By land it is 30 miles and about an hour from
Cousins, but Bailey is only about 10 miles away by water. Bailey is part of the town of Harpswell,
which encompasses a peninsula, one finger of which is made up of three isles –
Great Island, Orrs Island, and Bailey, all linked by bridges to the mainland,
not far from a busy shopping hub named Cooks Corner near the city of
Brunswick. Bailey is 2.5 miles long and
less than a mile wide. It claimed 364
year-round residents in the 2020 census.
Like Chebeague, the summer population swells to about three times this
number.
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Strong
Childhood Memories
Since my great grandfather Hugh arrived on
Chebeague from Ireland at the age of 17 in 1842, this island has been home to
multiple generations of the Bowen family.
During my early years, I spent part of every summer there.
In the 1950s, my parents spent island time
with relatives or rented different cottages on Chebeague. The nearby shore gave me ample opportunity to
explore the abundant sea life. I learned
to swim and dive without fear in frigid water, through seaweed, above scurrying
green crabs, and up to barnacle-encrusted ledges. My feet were toughened by walking over
periwinkle and mussel shells on the pebbly beach.
My
dad, Victor Bowen, was born on the island and spent his teen years there, so
his reputation as a good fisherman was well known. In his small plywood runabout, we regularly
rocked in choppy water, maneuvered through the fog, and trolled for mackerel
and pollock among the nearby islands.
Since nobody in my family cared much for oily mackerel, we traded them
for lobsters and clams, so I became adept at using a nutcracker to unlock
boiled claws as well as chewing the innards of steamed clams after rinsing off
their grit in a glass of salty broth.
One
of my two Bowen uncles, Archie, shocked me one day by swilling down the entire
glass of that broth, including the sand and grit left behind. With a sly grin, he told me that was the best
part: “Good for what ails you! Keeps you
regular!”
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Another fond memory came from sitting in
rocking chairs on my Uncle Archie’s front porch overlooking the bay. My 90-year-old grandfather Henry, who lived
with Archie and his wife Rita in later years, would always offer me Canada
mints. This was no coincidence because
for more than 30 years he managed the island post office which doubled as a
confectionary and souvenir store. Even
now, some six decades later, some island residents remember back to their
childhood when he always had an ample supply of candy for them and stamps for
their parents.
Other
vivid memories involved learning to play golf on the island’s picturesque golf
course. I chronically sliced my drives,
and usually lost several balls trying to land them on the seventh green that
perched just beyond a shoreline waterhole.
I did fare a lot better dancing cheek to cheek with four or five
different girls who were visiting the nearby West Winds Sailing Camp.
My
summer times on Chebeague were limited to two- week stints because my dad had
taken a position as school principal in Laconia, New Hampshire not long after I
was born. For years prior to my arrival,
he and my mother, as teachers, could spend entire summers on the island. What’s more, every Christmas holiday was
spent with relatives on Chebeague. I loved the adventures of island life as a
kid. So did my sister Judy. During the decade before my birth, she found
summers on Chebeague idyllic.
Welcoming
relatives made all the difference. Judy’s island friendships with our grandfather,
uncles, cousins, girl and boy friends could be savored from June through
August. Judy recalls the excitement of
blueberry picking, scalloping and fishing with my dad, learning to swim,
climbing around barnacled shore rocks, our grandfather’s store, and the church
services Grampy Bowen faithfully led in the little Nazarene church he built
across from the Bowen homestead.
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Boat
Services to Chebeague
Boat
trips to Chebeague have always been an adventure. In the 50s, I recall, we always traveled from
home in Laconia, New Hampshire, to a marina on Falmouth Foreside just north of
Portland called Handy Boat Landing.
There we climbed aboard a vintage 45-foot ferry named the Nellie G. and
chugged to stops at Cousins and Little John’s islands before finally docking at
the Hamilton Stone Wharf. Casco Bay
Lines also ran a regularly scheduled ferry to Chebeague, stopping at several
outer islands, which took over an hour on a seven-mile route before docking at
the south end of the island at Chandler’s Cove Wharf.
Neither
the Nellie G. nor the Casco Bay ferry was quick, but they were reliable. The Casco Bay Line ferries, with Native
American names such as the Emita and the Aucocisco, had delivered tourists by
steamboat from Portland as well as daily mail and supplies for upwards of 150
years. But I preferred the Nellie
because she seemed to have more personality.
She docked at a granite slab stone wharf on
the eastern end of the island, not far from my grandfather’s house. The island’s famous “stone sloops” had
delivered the granite for the wharf from regional quarries. Dusty old cars belonging to relatives always
waited to pick us up at the landing. Before automobiles came the island, my
Uncle Clarence operated a horse-drawn livery to transport visitors to hotels
and cottages.
The
1955 construction of a massive oil-fired Central Maine Power plant on
the southern tip of Cousins Island set the stage for significant changes not just
for my family’s summer life, but for all Chebeague Islanders. Land access to the plant required a bridge
from the mainland. Cousins and Little John’s became accessible suburbs for the
town of Yarmouth, and further south for downtown Portland.
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Soon
after the bridge was completed, one of my resourceful relatives recognized a
promising economic opportunity. My dad’s
niece’s husband, always simply known as Smitty, gave up lobstering and started
transporting islanders, with help from his son Lindy, to and from the Cousins
Island landing. He called it a water
taxi. He also leased a convenient plot of shore land to use as a nearby parking
lot.
At first, no more than six passengers at a
time could be taxied by Smitty’s rebuilt lobster boat. However, the cheap price for a 10-minute trip
(a single dollar donation) to or from Hamilton Wharf on a flexible schedule, as
well as convenient shore side parking to boot, made the water taxi
popular. Within a year or two, the Casco
Bay Lines discontinued its Nellie G. service to Cousins and Chebeague from
Falmouth Foreside. By 1968, Smitty’s
water taxi had become a full-fledged 24-passenger craft, named the Polly-Lin
after his two children who are my second cousins.
My
folks continued to summer on Chebeague Island into the mid 1960’s, but their
concerns about the logistics of island living began to grow. Finding a summer cottage for short stays
became more difficult. My dad’s
obligations as a school administrator demanded more time in Laconia. Neither my sister or I could take much time
during summers to stay on Chebeague. Meanwhile,
a singular event got everyone’s attention.
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The
Chebeague Bridge Bond Defeat
Chebeague Island decided by referendum that it
would remain unbridged for the foreseeable future. Over a two-year period beginning in 1961, a
vigorous campaign sought to initiate a statewide referendum to approve and fund
a causeway across a 2,600-foot channel between Little John’s Island and
Chebeague. In November 1963, after
34,435 signatures validated a statewide ballot initiative, a $3 million bond
referendum was defeated by a vote of 49,699 (70%) to 21,626 (30%).
The
Chebeague bridge bond defeat was an exception.
Similar bridge funding issues typically had passed. In fact, throughout the 60s and 70s, most
initiative and referenda on the state ballot have passed. But in 1963, the Chebeague vote was the only
one among seven items on the ballot that was not approved. Since no pre- or post-survey was conducted,
specific reasons for the unqualified defeat are speculative.
Perhaps
one reason was potential cost to the taxpayers for a regional project that
would directly benefit only a small population.
In today’s dollars, that cost would have amounted to a substantial $50
million price. Another reason could have
been that ferry and water taxi services were well established and
dependable. Yet another factor could
have been the substantial proportion of Chebeague property owners, including
summer multi-generational residents, who resisted the idea of turning their
peaceful and quiet paradise into a busy, crowded suburb. They were protecting a way of life.
After all, there was a market, a post office,
church, a souvenir and ice cream store, a gas station, fire station, an
elementary school, a marina, a golf course, a hotel and guest houses, all
backed by a 10-minute water trip to Cousins, with only a two-minute walk from
the landing to convenient parking.
Increasingly, the leased lot was restricted to monthly-fee-paying
Chebeague Island residents. As a practical bonus, an incorporated water
transportation company, originated by Smitty and his son Lindy, included a
barge for cars and equipment that could travel directly to Chebeague from the
shore of the parking lot.
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Nearly 50 years later, in 2009, a
comprehensive planning survey for Chebeague, sent to 834 individuals listed in
the island’s directory and town property records, provides an interesting time
perspective. Among the 300 who returned
the survey, 42 percent listed access to the mainland as a continuing
priority. Yet more than half of all
respondents indicated the then-current water transportation was working, though
not perfect due to cost and constrained parking arrangements.
Of
89 year-round residents who responded, mainland access remained a higher
priority than for summer residents.
Close to a third of the year-round residents depended on water transport
for commuting. Still, only a token
percentage of both year-round and summer residents favored a bridge
solution. Instead, one of every three
focused on the caring and inclusive character of the Chebeague community.
There
is definitely an ambivalence about being an “unconnected island”. An introduction to Chebeague’s 500-page
comprehensive plan, which was published in 2011, acknowledges that life there
is different from living on the mainland and more challenging: “The issue of sustainability is more
immediate, both sustainability of the natural environment and the
sustainability of the human community.”
At
the same time, one respondent to the island’s visioning survey said what many
were thinking: “Why change anything?
Chebeague’s simplicity, character, beauty, diversity, and sense of
community can’t be beat! Let’s protect
it for future generations.”
A
key to Chebeague’s continuing wellbeing is the strong presence of non-profit
organizations on the island, and a “high level of community participation”. A prevalent survey comment was that Chebeague
should preserve its rural character by ensuring that only those who “care
enough to make the trip will come.”
-9-
By
no coincidence, several years before the island’s comprehensive plan was
developed, the state legislature approved the islanders’ wish to become a
separate and independent town in control of their own municipal services. Much more has been written about the quality,
character, and practical implications of preserving or protecting life on the
island.
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Relocating
to Cousins Island
My comparative perspective comes mainly from
my family’s long experience on nearby bridge-linked Cousins Island. By 1965 my father had rented a summer cottage
conveniently located on the shore just halfway between Cousins Island landing
and the nearby Chebeague residents’ leased parking lot. Besides shopping and restaurant
accessibility, there were certain advantages to what became known as the
Blanchard Cottage. Dad had rented from Bob Blanchard who lived right next door;
in fact, Bob also owned, leased out, and charged fees to those who used the
parking lot.
My mom and dad could say hello almost daily to
Chebeaguers who walked to and from the parking lot from the dock. My dad could plant a vegetable garden in the
cottage’s back yard. He could park his car in the Blanchard’s driveway. He moored his boat directly in view from his
front porch. Nearby summer neighbors
were cordial, and traditionally they arrived to swim and chat on so-called
“Pogey” shore in front of my folks’ cottage.
For the duration of my parents’ annual stays,
from 1965 through 1993, the residents who summered just above the town landing
comprised a neighborhood, a unique community amid the busy coming and going of
water traffic. My folks enjoyed their informal greetings and
birthday togethers during July and August.
Only once in a while did my folks return by boat to Chebeague to visit
relatives. They seldom felt the need,
and instead let the relatives visit them.
One
of the big reasons why my parents enjoyed Cousins Island summer living was that
my wife Hillary and I annually rented cottages nearby for two-week stays. By the mid 1970s and well into the 80’s we
brought two children along. Our Seth and
Carrie thrived on every feature of the little community that surrounded the
town landing. My parents loved
this. The activities that were special
for our children included fishing for crabs off the dock, trolling for mackerel
around the nearby islands, picnicking on both Chebeague and Little Chebeague’s
beaches,
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enjoying
the annual Yarmouth Clam Festival, swimming at Pogey shore, blueberry picking,
searching for sea glass at low tide, and visiting not just my parents, but
everyone else quite frequently.
Certain
traditions grew during these summer coastal experiences, such as an annual trip
for musicals at the Bowdoin Music Theater (which always included my dad’s two
nieces, Gladys and Victoria), my almost daily jogs across Cousins and around
Little John’s Island, tennis matches on a court at the head of the town landing
road, and trips to favorite restaurants.
Shopping on the mainland included an annual trip L.L. Beans in Freeport,
or to the Levinsky’s Department Store in Portland where back-to-school clothing
purchases were a treat.
Now
well into their mid-40s, our son and daughter remember time on Cousins as an
enchanting series of crystal-clear Kodachrome moments.
Although
we were surrounded by water, we never felt isolated because, during our brief
span of time on vacation, we were welcomed as part of the neighborhood. Now and
then, there were unusual reminders of Cousins’ unique character.
Our
son Seth recalls surreptitiously taking his Grampy’s pram out for a row down
the coastline, then frantically rowing back because he came upon a gigantic
belching smokestack at the south end of the island. Of course, it was the Central Maine Power
Plant, but to a seven-year-old in 1983, fear of nuclear war was made very real
by his school assignments, U.S.-Soviet Union brinksmanship and news media coverage
of mutually aggressive rhetoric. Seth
thought that smoking stack signaled beginning of World War III. We realized this fear had been real for him
only after he disclosed it recently.
Our
daughter Carrie remembers a potpourri of little traditions that are cherished
in retrospect. We gave our kids latitude
to go off and explore the beach and neighborhood, knowing that every adult
around was keeping an eye on them.
Carrie liked to pick raspberries, walk the low tide flats in search of
sea glass, and visit all the neighbors, particularly her grandmother. There she could always count on an afternoon
snack of ginger ale and goldfish crackers.
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Probably
the favorite activity for both our children was having their grampy take them
for a boat ride. They fished for
mackerel, but the big treat was to steer the boat. Our Carrie simply could not understand why
her grandfather insisted that she concentrate on the deck compass to keep the
craft pointed in just the proper direction.
What she really wanted was to look around, but she felt she could never
look up. Her grandfather’s lifelong
habit of traversing the bay in fog was probably the reason for her “maritime
training”.
Another
favorite activity was scrutinizing the many years of carvings in the shelter
that sat at the end of the Cousins landing.
By the early 1990s, with our daughter then a college sophomore, she, her
brother, and her cousin Tom loved to jump off the dock roof at high tide. This always made us at bit nervous, but water
was deep, and safe, and they were good swimmers. The shelter reminds Carrie of
her independence and individuality. One
of her momentos is a photo of a saying carved in the wooden wall: “If you dance
the same, and dress the same, before too long you will be the same.”
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The
Chebeague Transportation Company
An attention-getter for both our kids was the
was the noisy, awkward and precarious back-up route taken down to the town
landing by the school bus which transports ferry-goers from a parking lot some
20 minutes distant, just off Route 1 in Cumberland. For years Chebeague Island visitors who are
not year-round residents have had to park in this somewhat removed parking lot,
and pay a weekly or monthly fee.
Busses arrive several times daily, and for
many years turned around and backed down a steep incline, then allowing
passengers to disembark with their dunnage so they can wait on the landing for
the arriving ferry. Then the buses returned to the Route One parking lot to
await their next load. The whole trip remains necessary, but a concrete
abutment at the head of the dock now allows the buses to turn around more
safely.
Parking
has been a chronic bone of contention both on Cousins and Chebeague
Island. In the year 2000, as the lease
on the Blanchard parking lot ran out, Chebeague Transportation Company was able
to take over the lot by right of eminent domain.
Meanwhile, especially during the summer when
about 15,000 passengers travel to and from Chebeague, Hamilton Wharf on the
other end is packed with waiting or parked cars backing up the road that leads
down to the dock across two or three fairways of the golf course.
Those
who risk such parking assuredly find their windshields smashed by an errant
drive at least once every summer.
As
summer visitors to Cousins, we tended to be judgmental about the downsides of
parking arrangements. To their credit,
however, the Chebeague Transportation Company has instituted a number of
positive changes. The improvements have
reduced the need for a bridge. Primary
among the changes has been turning the company into a 501(c)(3) nonprofit
organization. Doing so eliminated income tax obligations.
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The general manager points out that the
company, even when privately owned by Chebeague stockholders, was never
intended to generate a profit. Turning
it officially into nonprofit legal status was facilitated by agreeing to
provide 24-hour year-round rescue and emergency services to Chebeague at no
cost to the town or the patient. Also,
since their newest ferry acts as an ambulance, the state agreed to excuse its
purchase from sales taxation.
The
CTC has various joint agreements about its operation with Yarmouth. Support from the town seems positive. No longer do island kids have to travel to
Cumberland schools, but after grade 5 they attend school in Yarmouth, which is
significantly closer and more convenient.
Permanent residents of the island, especially those with school-aged
children, feel like they are a welcome member of the Yarmouth community.
By
the mid 1990s my parents could no longer easily journey to Cousins Island due
to their advancing age. With their
passing away, in 1999 we turned to other locations for Maine vacations. This included a week’s stay at a bed and breakfast
on Chebeague, as well as a week in a beautifully renovated barn in Freeport,
which we shared with our married children.
Our professional and advanced learning pursuits as school administrators
kept us busy throughout summers, and shortened our vacation opportunities. Our relocation across the state from Albany
to the Buffalo added significant time to our trip Down East.
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A
Different Fit on Bailey Island
Despite
the lengthier distance, we felt we still had meaningful ties to island life, so
when my cousin, Sam Hunneman, a.k.a. Polly, suggested that Bailey Island would
make a perfect fit for us, we rented bed and breakfast accommodations at the
Log Cabin Inn – specifically the Sunset Room.
Without
fail we have made the annual journey to Bailey. Our particular spot has
a spectacular view of the western horizon: over Merriconeag Sound, Harpswell
Neck, past the distance smoke stack on Cousins Island, and sometimes beyond to
Mr. Washington some 75 miles distant.
For seventeen summers so far, we have cherished that landscape and
marveled at its changing weather.
The
Log Cabin Inn has become very special for us.
It began as a restaurant in 1980, but was reconfigured into a b&b
with nine unique rooms about 20 years ago, along with a separate two-story out
building with complete living quarters.
The owners, Sue Favreau, her family and their seasoned employees have
become like a family to us. Returning
guests have become familiar friends too.
Compared to our past on Chebeague and Cousins,
what sets Bailey Island apart is its geography, history, and a combination of
picturesque and economic assets which are especially appealing to tourists and
visitors like us Bowens.
Bailey’s sits at the end of a peninsula that
features three interconnected islands stretching from the mainland at Cooks
Corner and nearby Brunswick, to Great Island, then on to Orrs Island, and then
on to Bailey, about 13 miles altogether.
The bridge to Bailey, and the narrow strait beneath it, combine colonial
history with architectural ingenuity.
Like
Chebeague, Cousins, and most other Casco Bay isles, Bailey attracted Abenaki
Indians every spring because of the abundant fish and clams. Embankments of shells along island shorelines
leave evidence of
their
preferred diet.
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The
Colonial History of Bailey Island
The
first white settler on what would become Bailey was named Will Black. He claimed the entire island at Harpswell
Court after 20 years of squatting on it.
The place became known as Will’s island.
In 1742, an assertive Massachusetts Bay Colony lady named Hannah Curtis
apparently used her political influence to get her new husband, one Timothy
Bailey, appointed deacon of the North Yarmouth church. Furthermore, she is credited with bribing the
North Yarmouth officials to discredit Will Black’s legal claim because she
wanted to call all of what became known as Bailey Island as her home. One might say that Bailey’s destiny was
reshaped by the bribe of a gallon of rum and a pound of tobacco.
Intimidated
by Hannah, Will Black decamped and moved over to Orr’s Island. Black is remembered only by the narrow strait
between Bailey and Orr’s -- called “Will’s gut”.
In broader perspective, Maine’s detailed
“History Online” describes the century prior to the American Revolution “as a
series of destructive wars between Natives and Europeans that kept Maine –and
the frontier between New France, New England, and the Abenaki homelands – in
constant turmoil.” At times most of the European settlements along the Maine
coast were abandoned due to unpredictable Indian attacks. Seldom did settlers dare to venture far
inland because the territory was so unfamiliar and marked only by Indian trails
and “wild beasts”.
Tempting
though it is for an amateur historian, my purpose is not to review the six
overlapping wars that scarred colonial and native American life from the 17th
through the 19th century. Rather, I suggest that Bailey’s prominent
location, with her deep coves and inlets, made her vulnerable to raids by
British frigates, yet with views that offered protective access only by
water.
-17-
Thanks to glacial erosion, some coves and
inlets were carved out many miles inland, giving character to tidal rivers that
reach places that regionally include Yarmouth, Cooks Corner, and Bath. Between Bailey and parallel Harpswell Neck to
the west, a broad sound named Merriconeag provides convenient anchorage for
boats, and scenic sites for restaurants, pricey summer cottages and year-round
homes.
At
the northern end of Bailey, Will’s gut is the island’s popular water passage to
fishing, recreational boating and restaurants.
Over the years, my wife and I have enjoyed Cooks Cove (a.k.a. Garrison
Cove—named after an 18th century house build as a fortress against
Indian attacks) for kayaking, windjammer sailing, and terrific seafood.
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Bailey
Island’s Unique Cribstone Bridge
What truly distinguishes the place is a unique
architectural feature that connects Orr’s and Bailey islands—the Cribstone
Bridge.
Construction
was approved by the Maine legislature in 1883.
For many decades, to get from Orr’s to Bailey, you raised a flag which
brought a big flat-bottomed punt (known as a Friendship dory) over from Bailey.
The short row back to Bailey cost 15 cents; the return trip cost a
quarter. According to Nancy Jensen’s
wonderful anecdotal history of Bailey, Orr’s islanders were known to say,
“After you’ve been on Bailey for an hour, it’s worth a quarter to get back!”
Since the two islands have been part of the
town of Harpswell for decades, their voters had to approve funding for the
bridge. As local democracy would have
it, 40 years of political disputes delayed that vote until the state supreme
court settled municipal debates and bridge construction began in 1923.
Strong
currents, tides, and ice dictated some sort of open construction. Thanks to the practical planning of the
state’s bridge engineer, the challenge was met by hoisting granite slabs from
nearby quarries into crosswise and lengthwise position in a cribstone pattern
which enables strong tidal currents to flow through. Weight of the slabs alone holds the bridge in
place. Completion took two years, but no
renovations were needed for nearly a century.
Still, the two-lane slightly curved and elevated bridge is comparatively
narrow; vehicles must pay close attention to curbs and oncoming traffic. With the reported exception of one in
Scotland, it appears that the cribstone bridge is quite unique.
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Over
17 summers, since 2003, my wife and I have explored virtually all of the trails
and iconic sites of Bailey, her nearby neighbor Orr’s, and many other regional
locations. On Bailey, besides those around Cook’s Cove,
landmarks include the Giant Stairs, where surf crashes on the rocks of the
eastern shore, and Land’s End, a large tourist mecca that sells everything
related to the Maine coast. The store,
which predates the well-known Land’s End clothing company, somehow managed to
avoid trademark infringement. And its
headland views are hugely popular because they look off to the open seas and
many islands of Casco Bay, with Portland 20 miles off in the usual haze.
Hiking
and cycling, accented by appealing nature photography, have become habitual
when we escape home yard work in western New York and arrive at Bailey for a
couple of weeks. The main road on Bailey
has virtually no road margin so it is quite risky for walkers and
cyclists. Instead, we venture across
bridges to Orr’s, over to Harpswell, and up to the Popham Beach area where
miles of peaceful pine-rooted, sea margin trails are available.
Often we drive over to Brunswick, which is one
of the more bike-friendly communities in the region. The high school parking lot is our launching
pad for bicycling down the coast toward Freeport, usually culminating back on
the Brunswick green with a steamed-hot dog and chips.
Orr’s
Island offers our favorite hiking trails, including one on either side of the
steep terrain off the main road across the island. The two trails are appropriately called the
Devil’s Backbone. Also on Orr’s is the
Bowdoin Preserve, nowadays known as the Schiller Coastal Studies Center. It consists of 118 acres of coastal
spruce-pine forest, with a diversity of natural habitats used by Bowdoin
professors and students as a laboratory for different marine and environmental
summer projects. For us, the place is
just a wonderfully rigorous trek along the coastal coves.
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Just
as the traditions of Cousins and Chebeague kept the Bowens returning year after
year, so Bailey draws us back repeatedly to unique island adventures. As was true for me as a kid on Chebeague, and
for our kids on Cousins, memorable forays and new traditions can be found every
summer.
For
instance, in 2017 we rented the schooner Alert to celebrate our 50th
wedding anniversary. The schooner’s home
port is Cooks Cove. We also reserved very room at the Log Cabin Inn for
relatives and friends to join us for a two-day celebration. This included a day-long sail around the bay
for 25 guests, followed by a lobster dinner at the Log Cabin Inn’s restaurant.
The highlight was our renewing our wedding vows at sunset on the Inn’s lawn
overlooking the bay.
One
of our faithful traditions has recurred nearly every summer since 1963: a visit
to the Maine Music Theater in Brunswick on the Bowdoin College campus. There is hardly a Broadway musical we have
not seen, including several reprises. It seems as though the audience has
seasoned with us over the years so that it now takes much longer for attendees
to reach or leave their seats. We also
prefer matinees these days because daylight driving is better. Still and all, the music has become a vintage
treat.
To
this point, I have traced my family memories across three islands, seven
decades, and several generations.
Contexts have been set by the geography and history of bridges and
landmarks, the ever-present sea and shore, and traditions woven through my
personal tapestry. Still, something more
remains to be said about what it means and how it feels to spend part of your
life on an island. Put another way, there is more to be gleaned about how the
Casco Bay islands have defined us.
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Living
on Island Time
Keep
in mind that the feeling of being on an island reaches far beyond the time
actually spent there. As I suggested at
the very beginning, psychological islands can create a lasting sense of
isolation, or of peace. More tangibly, the three islands of Chebeague, Cousins,
and Bailey, and their surroundings, have long since embedded themselves in my
daily routines. They are a near-daily
reference for positive feelings, conversations about shared experiences with
relatives and friends, thousands of photos, historical reflections, plans for
the future, and sundry adventures of mindfulness.
Do
other islands produce these same effects?
Yes indeed, though I suppose some might think it is a stretch. My wife and I definitely identify with at
least one Caribbean Island far removed from Casco Bay. Annually, we count on heading to the
“tropics” to escape the snowy rigors of western New York. At an adult resort in Jamaica, we treat
ourselves for a few days to virtually every available amenity.
Admittedly,
at 4,000 square miles, Jamaica is a massive plot of land compared to the isles
in Casco Bay. Jamaican residents have a
thriving economy built on tourism, strong cultural and social traditions, and
relaxed attitudes which they regularly model.
These things engender a deeply self-aware island mentality. Our time at a resort may afford only a taste
of the island’s assets and sense of community, but lingering memories are
reinforced by the cordiality and openness of the employees. The Jamaicans welcome our curiosity and like
to tell us all about their extended families, culinary habits, church life, and
colorful history.
Parallels
between Jamaica and our three Maine islands are quite evident. Coastal and island weather patterns produce
changeability in the weather, sometimes even hurricanes. Fishing of all kinds is an economic mainstay
in both Maine and Jamaican settings. There
are plenty of celebrated historical landmarks.
Thousands of tourists arrive especially during so-called high seasons
found in both latitudes.
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More challenging to pin down, but still quite
real, are similarities in self-awareness of island life and related communal
values. Jamaica’s communal identity is
drawn on a broad scale, and in some ways is proudly enhanced to appeal to
tourists like us. Nonetheless, we
respond enthusiastically because Jamaica reminds us of features we appreciate
in our home lives thousands of miles to the north. In fact, our three Casco Bay islands offer
smaller, locally varied dimensions of living in a welcoming social and enriching
cultural community,
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The
Impact of Community
As a tyke, my memories of Chebeague make it
seem like a family of relatives and a setting for seaside adventures where many
grown-ups played a part. One of the more
insightful observations about Chebeague’s’ sense of community and their mutual
interdependence is provided by Herbert G. Jones in his 1946 book the “Isles of
Casco Bay”:
There still clings to the
native Chebeaguer something of the simplicity that comes perhaps from living
close to the sources of life…. One of the notable features about them is the
way in which they stand by one another. …If one of their members is in need
there is sure to be a benefit to which others respond generously.
Does
this kind of social cohesion prevail today on Chebeague, some seven decades
later? There are strong hints that it does. For instance, the health and welfare of those
who live on Chebeague is enhanced by multiple non-profit organizations and
grants designed to provide services, not to generate a profit, and to systemically
support both the young and elderly.
Another indicator is the absence of year-round police, suggesting a
certain measure of trust and self-protection.
Yet another derives from the deliberate decisions of Chebeaguers to
become an independent municipal entity, and really not to need or want a bridge
to the mainland.
A
deeper look at the civic-mindedness of Chebeague residents, suggests an
intriguing historical evolution. Origins
in the late 1800s can be traced back to the vitality of church life. The outgrowth was a variety of women’s social
groups, who in turn evolved into organized councils that pushed to build a
recreational hall, ultimately a community center, a library, an up-to-date
elementary school, and a senior citizens’ center. These developments matured slowly over decades.
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By the mid 1950s an advocacy-minded group of
residents had decided that a bridge initiative was needed to revitalize a
stagnant or declining island economy.
Intensely opinionated community discussion about funding a bridge came
to a head with a state referendum defeat in 1963. Yet the underlying unity produced by
non-profit activities gives structure and purpose to the social life of the
islanders. This remains one of
Chebeague’s greatest assets. It is the
essence of being an island.
As
for Cousins Island, my personal experience suggests that in some ways this
island is not an island at all, but rather a conduit conveniently linked to
nearby Yarmouth and beyond. While services like a
fire station and a church give Cousins a frame for separateness, the dominance
of a causeway has discouraged the kind of communal social cohesion enjoyed by
Chebeague.
On
the other hand, my family found a very real kind of community surrounding the
Cousins Island town landing. It was
more like a neighborhood where adults and children experienced rewarding
face-to-face interactions on a daily basis.
The residents of our neighborhood are mostly now deceased or departed,
but while it lasted, for close to 25 years, there was a social magic, what my
son calls “fairy dust” somehow sprinkled across the end of Wharf Road.
Bailey
Island offers another variation on the idea of community. As with Cousins, some might insist the iconic
cribstone bridge negates the claim of being an island. Not really, because it makes much communal
sense to consider neighboring Orr’s as a bridge-connected companion – and by
itself, an island.
Together
Bailey and Orr’s share a fire station, meeting houses, churches, a yacht club,
condos, a library, hiking trails, an ice cream/candy shop, and various
community events like an art auction and book sale. Each has unique commercial assets, but I
believe most visitors see the two islands as beautifully scenic features of the
same tourist destination and places of permanent and vacation residence.
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The
Adventure Never Ends
With
all of their variations, including unique communal and historically rooted patterns,
Chebeague, Cousins, and Bailey islands have given the Bowen “clan” enduring and
cherished memories. Our sea coast
experiences have strengthened us, and in many ways have become features of our
family character over at least seven decades.
Just as we define islands, so they define us.
Every summer the Casco Bay islands can be
likened to a sailboat. Despite buffeting
winds that may try to push our sails toward alternative destinations, the
rudder of our Maine islands keeps us on a steady course. We now understand how
much it means to spend time on an island.
Our Down East isles have become a proud feature of self-conscious
identity. As they say, once you have
slept on an island…well, the adventure never ends.
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About
References
Two
books provided a framework and inspiration for my account. One I rediscovered on my bookshelf,
originally given as a gift to my grandfather, Henry Bowen, then inherited by my
father, Victor Bowen, and eventually coming to me with his belongings after my
dad passed away. Long since out of
print, it is: Herbert G. Jones, The Isles of Casco Bay in Fact and Fancy. Portland,
Maine: Jones Book Shop, 1946.
The
second book is a personal historical and photographic account of growing up on
Bailey Island, still readily available on Amazon and in Casco Bay regional
bookstores. Nancy Orr Johnson Jensen, Bailey
Island: Memories, Pictures, and Lore. Mahomet,
Illinois: Mayhaven Publishing, 2003.
A
third unpublished, and uniquely useful reference is my sister’s
autobiography: Judith Scott Bowen,
Part Two 1934-1957.
Downloadable
views of contemporary issues and a detailed summary of survey research relating
to Chebeague Island can be found in: Town of Chebeague Island Comprehensive
Planning Committee, A Vision for Chebeague? (Includes a 2009 Chebeague
Vision Survey).
Various
online resources were tapped along the way.
Wikipedia as well as promotional literature about the islands provided
basic information and data.
Specifically, Maine History Online provided details about Casco Bay’s
precolonial history. Maine state
legislative reports have supplied data on state referenda especially relevant
for the 1960s. The Portland Library’s digital commons has fascinating copies of
Casco Bay newsletters. Also,
islandinstitute.com has published an excellent interview with the executive
directors of the Chebeague Transportation Company.
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The
Chebeague Island Historical Society supports a comprehensive museum repository
of the island’s antiquities and documents.
I have relied on its resources to develop an understanding of
Chebeague’s economic, nautical, and social history. The spearhead for the museum -- and the
island’s historical guru -- is Donna Damon, a lifelong Chebeague resident. I am very much indebted to her and the
volunteers who work with her. Enlightening
for me has been an ongoing series of zoom lectures sponsored by the museum.
Nothing
quite compares with oral history. I have
truly enjoyed using the youthful memories of my children, Seth Bowen and Carrie
Novak, as well as the historical reinforcement provided by my second cousin,
Sam Hunneman.
Finally,
in answer to the question, “What is it like to live on an island?” I incorporated into my analysis the thoughts
supplied by interested individuals worldwide via a social question-and-answer
website called Quora (quora.com).
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