LandYachting The Coast of Maine

Whenever we head for a new region of the country, I try to hold in my mind some idea of what I hope to bring to the blog- be it in the form of photographs, old memories, new ideas or just a journal of the adventure as it presents itself. But coming to Maine? That is different. Marilyn and I lived the greater part of our adult lives here growing and running businesses, participating to the fullest extent we were able in the day to day functioning of our community and our state. And to be sure, it WAS our state. We loved Maine then. And we love Maine now. But life is finite, and so if goals beckon and call you from elsewhere, you must seek them out or pass them by and resign to the fact that you did...or to the fact you didn't! . Not ones for resignation, we heeded the call to adventure and moved on with our lives- first to Roatan, Honduras where we built a house overlooking the beach and the reef... Where we could swim every day in the crystalline waters with the dolphins or dive to the depths of the deep blue beyond the reef. Then to Cape Coral, Florida, where we built a new life with friends there and reluctantly permitted ourselves to become knee deep in business once again, working as property managers and landscape artists. Then again, the call to adventure came and we decided to spend some time traveling....

But where? And therein lies the story as we find it today. My preference was to purchase a large catamaran and sail it to where-ever we chose to sail it. Fish. Swim. Dive. Fish some more! Oddly enough, I am NOT the sailor in the family; that would be Marilyn. But though she can sail, she much preferred not to, as security (there ARE pirates out there, mates) and a tendency for seasickness were issues that caused her to lean in another direction. She thought, and I ultimately saw the wisdom in her thinking (Lick a finger and hold it up in the air to see which way the wind be a blowin'), that the RV lifestyle might let us see the country, and beyond as far as possible, in a bit more comfort and with somewhat less the risk to life and limb. "And now you know", as Paul Harvey used to say, "the rest of the story." While there are some days that I still wish I were on a 48 ft. cat instead of in a 43 ft. coach, those days are few and far between and the fantasy suffices, or so they say....

But here we are. Back in Maine for the first time in a long time as visitors, guests, tourists. And it feels new, yet it feels familiar. It feels good, but it will take some concentration to shake the work mode that normally accompanied crossing the border back into Maine that came with going anywhere else- ever. Long, long days of owning and running your own business. The constant drum of knowing that if failure came, there was no one else at which to point a finger. And so no matter how good, no matter how bad, you dug in, held on and drove forward. Fortunate we were! (Borrowed that syntax from Yoda.) To the point that we can travel, we do have options; our lives are basically full of joy, and for that we are always thankful!

But on to Maine. In the Land Yacht! With some warm fuzzy feelings for Alaska set to the side for the moment- Maine is beautiful! It may no longer be home---but it will always be "halfway home" and I am anxious to see what presents itself, what is accepted and rejected, and what we will share with you as we travel up the coast of our beloved Maine.

Parsley? Sage? Rosemary? And Thyme? No. This is Scarborough fare, not fair. That will come later. But for our first landing, our dockage if you will, we settle into "Wild Duck" on the salt marsh at Scarborough, Maine. Red Winged Blackbirds herald our every movement as the marsh is alive with bird life. If it belongs here, it IS here, and the provisions for wildlife being here are second to none. Maine takes its "Green" seriously! What will you get from us on our trek up the coast of Maine? Frankly, I am not sure. But time will tell and it is time to get started. Here's a look at the vista from our salt marsh camp in Scarborough....

Way back "ago" I wrote about the incredibly dangerous "bore" tide in Turnagain Arm, Anchorage, AK. What you are looking at below is NOT one. But it is representative of the incredible power of the tide as it manifests here. Were I to allow my kayak to come too close to this powerful suction of the tide running under the road and into the marsh- I would be crushed in a heartbeat as I was swept through the pipe. I do hope that is evident in the photo, but it is not an easy thing to show. Here in southern Maine the tidal change from high to low is powerful and so is the current it generates. It refreshes life in the marsh and in the inlets it empties back into, but as you will see as we travel north along the coast, the tidal change will go from amazing- 8 or 9 feet, to extreme, 25 and more feet per tide- some even way more than that. Worth seeing? You bet!


A short jaunt takes us to Kennebunkport, ME, (above and below) and Walker Point. This is the family vacation complex of the Bush family- as in President George I and President George II. Did we go there just to see the other house of our president? NO. But hey! We were there and it is a gorgeous spot. And Kennebunkport? Money up the wazoo town as far as Maine goes! If classic fare- fog shrouded, rugged rocked, surf pounded, wind blowing flag waving majesty is what you had in mind for the Maine Coast, well, this just might be the place you had in mind.

Now Maine is a bit of a chameleon. Most don't think so, but they didn't ever live here and work here and party here and explore here, and make their living here like we did. So below we present the classic view of the coast, and for good reason. This IS Maine. But she is so much more and I hope we can bring it to you in the weeks to follow.

Welcome To Maine. I think I'm going home. Think I'm goin' back to Maine....