Chris, the Lobsterman, Thurs. July 9

Thursday, July 9, 2009

We actually woke up early and got out early—we were out by 10:30 and on our way to Bah Hahbah (Bar Harbor) outside Acadia National Park.

It seemed that when the sun comes out in Maine, so does half of Maine’s natives and all of its tourists and birds, finally. Both of the suet cages Bob had put out tied to the telephone pole were gone—suet and cages and all—so where they went, we don’t know—raccoon? The almonds were also gone (overnight)—thank you SUN. Usually there’s very little traffic, but even in Washington county, before we reached Hancock county (and bah hahbah) we encountered some traffic. It was a glorious day, weather-wise and we embarked on a journey we had made many years ago both with and without our children. The last time we were here we worried about the prices of the food on the menus we checked out—we were young and didn’t make much money. It was different this time and what is funny is that I still looked at the prices, not because we couldn’t afford it, but because we could and didn’t want to pay more than something was worth to us. The drive was very lovely and our GPS bitch knew us and knew that we didn’t want to take main roads, so again, through the backroads, we marveled at the homes both on the water and not. Then there were the antique places, the weathervane places, lobster boils on the side of the road on the way up—plus the spectacular views of different bodies of water and waterways and houses with a view! I think Bob wants to go to open houses this weekend so we’ll have to find out how to find them.

As we left our road, we saw an OSPREY with a shad in its talons flying over us. Bob suddenly pulled off the side of the road, pulled out his sketchpad and made a rough sketch in mere seconds of the osprey. Then, along one of the country roads, he saw two hawks—buteos—but he isn’t sure what they were (sorry Mookie—no punishment please). We saw a goldfinch, barn swallows so I guess the sun also brought out the birds.

The shops ranged from a Patagonia to Maine artisans’ coops to bookstores and interspersed along the darling picturesque streets of the village were pubs and restaurants. We bought yet more art supplies (so I can do some watercolor on cards to send to friends who won’t judge me) and a sweatshirt for Ana, tea, teabag holders, t-shirts, a lobster cookbook, a butter heater thingy for lobster, a replacement for one of our broken whirligigs, strawberries from a roadside stand along with a berry pie (sour cherry, blueberry and strawberry) yet more books and the list goes on. We’ll be back because there were a few prints we were interested in, but we had to move the car again (2 hour parking). However, I befriended the parking guy and we remained in the same place after he told me just to move the car up a few inches so it doesn’t match the chalk mark that was made for the first two hours we were there. Also, the lady at the visitor’s center told him that we had just parked there (after we had been there for 4 hours). Love the people here.

On the way back, we antiqued a bit. Then, Bob said, “Do you want to stop at 44 North pub for a beer?” I said, “Sure!” Bob suggested we sit at the bar and it was a good thing we did. We made friends with the bartender, Debbie, and when I told her I was writing an article about lobstermen, she introduced me to three of them. Chris Chipman, a 32-year-old, 5^th generation lobsterman, introduced himself and moved to the stool next to us. His accent was very thick but after awhile we fell into the cadence and understood him much better. We talked for about two hours—he will be the main source for my lobstermen article—very interesting, young, and quite funny—we heard him say, “mothah fuckah” (before he moved over to sit with us) and couldn’t help but laugh. He wants to take us out on his boat so we can observe then he wants to barbecue lobsters for us. He requested first look and approval of the article though because he doesn’t want to get in trouble with any government group or ecology group if he says anything that would be possibly controversial. I got his name and telephone number and he said to call him anytime. He actually lives down the road from where we’re staying and has his own pier, boat (of course) and pound. He was so interesting and said that he loves learning from the older lobstermen because, “We never know everything.”

We’re home now and looking forward to our next experience with Chris and with our own boat which Bob thinks he’ll have seaworthy tomorrow (fill it up, put the deck in, put the motormount together)

What a day—what a week (not even a week yet) this has been. We have been truly blessed.