I wanted to spend the longest day of the year on Pond Island. It is not a MITA site, but is run by the Maine Coast Heritage Trust, and is run as a preserve where the public are welcome to come and enjoy. It is an amazing island, with a long history of community use, going back generations. It has a lot of meaning to me, on a lot of levels.
When Pond Island went up for sale in the 1970s, a group of local Brooksville residents led by Mrs. Butcher, who originally came to my great grandmothers seaside farm Breezemere, raised money to buy the island and put it in a trust so it would be preserved in perpetuity. I’m not sure whether the idea of conservation had started yet in Maine, but this was certainly the first I’d heard of this happening on the Maine coast, and may have been the seed of the many organizations we see today: Maine Coast Heritage Trust, Blue Hill Heritage Trust, etc.
Pond has significant history for me and my family as well. My grandfather loved his initials, and he used to carve them in rocks almost anywhere he could. You can still see the inscription T.L. Gray and Family ’79 on the rocks by the steep deep-water beach on the northwest side of the island by Western. We used to go there regularly as kids with my family, and then as teenagers with our friends, and even today with the kids. It was and still in a center of the community on the water, and is used daily in the summer for picnics and overnights. I wanted it to myself for a couple nights, and early summer is the time to do that. And what better day than the longest of the year.
Pond also has significant meaning in my relationship with Plum. We spent a lot of time there with Plum’s family, and particularly Peter Chase, who liked to credit himself as the reason Plum and I were back together. And he was. I still wonder whether one of the things we most closely shared died with him. Pete loved to take family and friends out to Pond. It was such a central place is his life that one of his daughters was married there, right on the rock where my grandfather carved his initials. I loved Pete. He loved Brooksville, and would always try to convince me, and anyone who would listen, to move up to Brooksville. I always thought I might, but would let expectations of family, career, etc get in the way. But I had a deep admiration and respect for Pete for knowing what he loved, and acting upon it. He was a great guy.
So having recently left my job, leased out my apartment, and moved to my grandfather’s house in Brooksville full time, it seemed fitting to go out to Pond for the Solstice, which has become a more important event to me than before with my newfound connection to the new age ‘woo woo’. I say that jokingly, but I do believe in energy and the universe, and although I don’t really know the celestial significance, I know it is a big deal to those folks, beyond the fact that you can BBQ later in the night.
So I went out to Pond, and set up camp in the same place I have many times before. It is a perfect campsite, and rivals Harbor Island as one of my favorites. There is a tidal pond in the middle of the island just west of the site, and a semi-cleared grove with room for 5 or more tents. There are three tent sites that are perfect, with even soft ground. As a nod to Peter Chase, I removed my shoes and kept them off the entire time on the island. Peter never wore shoes. Basically anywhere. He was one of my favorite guys, and as I mentioned, a big part of the reason Plum and I finally got together. He was very proud of that fact. So there I was on Pond by myself without shoes, and with a new kayak.
Pete and I both used to walk around Pond looking for rocks. I have always done that, and still do it. Each small rock is so uniquely beautiful. Pete saw this too, and would constantly scan the rocks, bend over and pick a few up, and occasionally drop one into his pocket. I used to do the same, and always gave the best ones to Plum. She appreciated them and understood. Not many people do. Pete did.
When I arrived at Pond, I kayaked over the bar to Hog at low tide. My mother always talked about how you could walk across that bar at dead low, and actually did it a few years ago in her late 60s. I haven’t ever done it so was interested to see what the bottom looked like, and the path of the bar. A perfect excursion in a kayak. I then paddled around the island and saw a windjammer picnic on the western beach. From there I went with the tide up the stream into the pond. I’ve always seen people do this, and have brought kids with kayaks out many times to play in the stream, but had never done it myself. It was really fun, and made me vow to always bring my kayak on these excursions in the future.
I made a fire on the beach (which is allowed) and cooked up a burger on my grill. The bugs weren’t too bad, which is odd, but maybe the solstice is still a bit too early season. Good to remember. I went back out in the kayak for the sunset, and paddled out to where the whaler was anchored past the northwest point of the island to see the sunset over the Camden hills. It was after 9:30 when I went back in, and I went to bed because I rarely stay up much later and it was getting so cold that the tent and sleeping bag was quite inviting.
I woke up around midnight to a killer Stagger Lee. I knew Immediately who it was. My friend Hugh had some buddies in town for a golf weekend, and had been trying to get me to head over to his house for some dinner shenanigans the night before the golf. I had encouraged them to come out to the island, but they had thought it was a bad idea, at least until hammered when a boatride blasting the Grateful Dead sweetened the pot, so to speak. I wanted to get up and egg them on a bit, but I was freezing, and knew nothing good would come of that. I wasn’t even drinking. I had planned to stay on the island the next day, but Hugh convinced me to go to Northeast Harbor the next morning by boat to play golf. I’ll never refuse a round of golf if I am going by boat, even if it means cutting into my camping. And that night they sounded like they were having the kind of fun I needed to be welcoming back into my life. Hugh picked me up on Pond with my clubs, and I left the tent set up in case I wanted to come back.