TRIP #5, 2014--Day of Summer

Another Day of Summer
Dressed in shorts this morning, we set out from Augusta for Brunswick, Maine.  At 9:00 a.m. the sun was bright and the temperature, already 65 degrees with a predicted high of 83.

Maine hardwoods put on a spectacular display of color.

Our first destination was Boothbay Harbor, but we stopped once along U.S. Route #1 for pictures of leaves.  The colors are amazing. The scarlet shades of the sumac set off deep green pines interspersed with yellow birch.  Swamp maples, also called silver maples, turned first; they are now bright oranges and reds.  Nature has painted a masterpiece.
"The Kennebec is a huge river," I said, as we crossed heading south.
"Down here it is," answered Andy. "It's affected by the tide here, as well, and the tide is just coming in."

The private lighthouse on Hendrick's Head still warns ships
of dangerous rock outcroppings near the shoreline. 

Hendrick's Head Lighthouse on Beach Road is privately owned.  We crossed a bed of exposed seaweed, picking our way carefully along the granite outcroppings by staying on rougher surfaces.  The tide was still low, but the wet seaweed was very slippery.  A fall meant certain injury... or at least a lot of serious scratches.  Andy coaxed and prodded.  His clear eye and steady hand got me to the top of a granite point, high and dry, that gave us a view of the lighthouse that protected Dogfish Head Bay.  At the shoreline a woman stood quietly by an easel, daubing colors on the canvas.  A family on the beach tossed a stick into the water for a black lab.  He repeatedly bounded after it, swam to the stick and brought it back, sending spray everywhere.

Displays at the shops in
Boothbay Harbor remind
us that autumn is here.

It was a perfect beach scene.For two hours we strolled along the harbor at Boothbay, watching the boats come and go, looking in lots of the tourist shops and meandering through water-side gardens of hotels that lined the busy harbor.
We walked across the water on the old wooden boardwalk foot bridge and peeked in the windows of Bridge House, built in 1902.  It was an office and repair shop now.  A large tour sailboat glided silently past.
The tourists waved excitedly in the distance.

In the middle of the bay, Bridge House serves as a
maintenance area for the wooden foot bridge.

     "Our last lighthouse is out there on that island." Andy pointed but the building was hidden by pine trees on the harbor side.  We tried walking on both sides of the harbor, but we couldn't get close enough for a picture.
M. Roberts, the wife of Edward Roberts, invited us to browse through her husband's art in their working studio/shop.  She said they marvel at the green in Connecticut every year when they arrive from Florida.  We guessed they were seasonal and about ready to leave New England.  "I'll bet this town closes down in a couple weeks," said Andy as we left.
Going through Wiscasset was a slow drive. Everyone was in line at the fish stand or crowding the sidewalk café.  It felt like mid-July.

The bronze statue, Fisherman's Memorial,
pays tribute to those fishermen who
sacrificed their lives at sea.

We exited Route #27 in order to check out the city of Bath, called Home of Ship Building.  An interpretive sign said the city owed existence to Charles Davenport, who founded it on "blocks of charity."  We walked up and down a quiet main street and relaxed with coffee and blueberry muffins at Café Crème.  The shipyard and dry docks were quiet because it was Sunday, but the coffee shop buzzed with customers.
After checking in the motel, Andy drove leisurely along Route #24, crossing Great Island all the way down to Orrs Island to Bailey's Island.  "Somewhere along the coast they sold a 50-acre island to a land trust for $925,000," he mused.  "I wouldn't mind owning a 50-acre island." It was Goslings Island in Casco Bay, Maine, and the price was $18,500 an acre.

Beautiful as it looks, this patch is
highly "poisonous" ivy.

We looked around the Land's End gift shop at the point and photographed the Fisherman's Memorial, dedicated to all those who lost their lives at sea.  Nearby was a gorgeous patch of brilliant red leaves with a sign, "Nature's natural remedy for poison ivy sold inside."  It was meant as a warning for tourists, but most tourists seemed oblivious.
Along the road, stands and trucks sold fresh lobster for $4.50 a pound.  We saw one sign on Bailey's Island for $4.30 a pound, and take-out shacks and restaurants are charging anywhere from $16. to $19. and more for a one-pound lobster dinner.  It seems the mark-up is pretty stiff, and lobsters are currently in plentiful supply.
Part way back along Route #24 on Great Island, we took a left toward Harpswell.  As we drove southwest to the next jut of land, a red fox cowered in the middle of the road.  Andy tooted the horn and slowed down.  "I thought it was a cat," he said.
"I thought it was a coyote," I responded. 
"He's a young one, but if he doesn't move, he won't be young very long," Andy responded.  The fox scampered away before I could grab the camera.
Bowdoin College, founded in 1734, reminds me a little of a compact and exclusive Miami of Ohio.  The red brick buildings are classy and beautifully maintained.  We walked around the main quad with its 200-plus-year-old oak trees.  Kids rode bikes, played Frisbee and sun bathed.  "I wonder if there is a no-car policy," said Andy out loud.  "there are so many bikes. It's a private school so they could demand no vehicles."

From a distance the ship yard dry dock looks like a giant lock.

The stately old houses that lined Maine Street lent an air of sophisticated elegance.  And Brunswick was a thriving town with a four-lane main street and a viable shopping district.
Bath City Dog Park on the water allowed us to see the ship yards of Bath.  "That's for repairing the really big ships," said Andy.

The statue of the ship
Wyoming towers over
the surrounding landscape.

"The blue sides fill with water after a ship has pulled in. When they drain out the water, the ship goes up in dry dock and workers can repair the underside. They can do an ocean liner in there," he added.
"It must be a really deep port on the Kennebec," I said.
As we drove away from the shipyard area, I noticed a sign on the main building that said, "Defense contractor. Photography prohibited. Police take notice."  But I wasn't even trying!
Maine Maritime Museum, just down the road, had closed, but we walked to the sculpture of the Wyoming with its flags flying high. It is called the Schooner Wyoming Evocation.  I'm guessing that the name comes from the fact that the immense white sculpture evokes the impression of a great ship. In Bath, the Wyoming has landed.