Summer Trip Tik Day #12

This is the day I captured the most incredible Maine photos yet. The tragedy – “we” dropped the camera into a puddle of seaweed. Hopefully I can share the imagery in my mind in this post. Gene had found an island the previous day that he wanted to take Taryn and I to. The Danglers went for a family bike ride, so the 3 of us took a 2 person and a single kayak out and headed in the direction of the incoming tide toward a distant island just southeast of the Owl’s Head peninsula (called Monroe Island). Once we passed the dozen or so coastal homes on our right, we turned a corner to see a lone house on the tip that is for sale for $1.5 million. The house sits back from the water about 300 yards on a slight incline, with a sprawling lawn, a border of rocks and a rare sandy beach. The wrap around porch left me day dreaming of adirondack chairs and novels.

To the left and further than I first estimated, the uninhabitated island that was our destination. Scattered about in the deep greenish-blue water, brightly colored lobster buoys. Lemon yellow and magenta, lime green with a purple stripe, classic red and white, sky blue, baby pink. They bobbed and weaved like lonely souls above the choppy water. Gene and Taryn were far ahead, as I was capturing shots I could use later for paintings. The island seemed farther than the mile I swim at home, and the current was giving me and my rocking kayak a workout. At one point, I got a bit spooked, feeling very alone in this huge ocean. The book I read on the trip, Sail by James Patterson, about a stranded family on a boat probably didn’t help the cause.

We first anchored on a shelly beach to rest, planning to go around the island to the right opposite the dream house. The current and wind were so strong, we opted to go left – as Gene promised the other side to be the most beautiful. We paddled along the edge of the island, and weaved in and out of huge rocks arising out of the water. The wooded island had huge, untouched rocks with pine trees older than me showing deep roots where the soil was washed away by the tide. I missed the deer they spotted.

As we rounded the furthest corner, the ringing of a large green bell floating just off in the water rang to warn boaters of rocks. We approached an inlet of the most humungous rocks covered by seagulls, who simultaneously flew away as we made shore. Many of the rocks were covered with layers and layers of live seaweed. We ambitiously made our way onto the high boulders, navigating over extrememly slippery tubes of wet seaweed. The wind, the crashing waves, the light mist of fog, the hovering seagulls and the rhythmically ringing bell were a breathtaking canvas to the bright red and yellow kayaks sitting patiently below us on the shore.

It wasn’t until the treacherous climb down that the moment was slightly interrupted by the falling of a new camera into the seaweed infested water. Better it than us we decided, and the daring crusaders returned home with the wind to our backs for a more peaceful crawl back to the cottage. Worth the camera in my opinion.