Bunkers Harbor

I changed the plan last minute after hearing about a great new restaurant just north of Winter Harbor.  Originally, I was planning to head up to Somes Harbor at the end of the Sound, the only fiord in North America.  I loved it up there and have spent a considerable amount of time anchored in that hurricane hole.  But my friend Hugh had mentioned a restaurant I should try.  Hugh was always a good resource for good new spots, and I had a feeling this wouldn’t disappoint, and deserved a look.  He first mentioned Bunker’s Wharf, we he had been the week before, and then the Pickled Winkle, which is apparently a downeast staple, and should not be missed.  It made me realize you can’t simply rely on the Cruising Guide. I had skipped this section on the way up based on the harbor reviews and could not have been more wrong.

Looked into the details, and realized the wharf was open for lunch, and then the Pickled Winkle was open for dinner and into the later evening.  I realized I would likely need to spend the night to fully experience this and called the wharf to see if I could get a mooring.  I was told I could use Dana’s, the owner of the Wharf, since I was eating there.  Hugh had mentioned he knew Dana, so I was hoping I might see him to thank him for the mooring and discuss our mutual friend.

Lunch was great.  Tacos, corn tortillas, haddock.  Not quite enough haddock, but I wasn’t complaining.  Had a beer, went back out to the boat, and waited for a reasonable hour to hit the Winkle.  As 5PM rolled around, I went back in to the dock at the Wharf and walked through the restaurant to get out to the road.  I told one of the patrons my plan, and she enthusiastically told me about the Winkle, but was also very clear I should go there for drinks, then come back to the Wharf for dinner.  She also told me there was an Explorer bus from Acadia that passes every half hour or so that would take me right there if I got lucky.  Very good to know.  I love knowing about free transport available in harbors, especially when it goes into national parks.

I walked to the Pickled Winkle.  It wasn’t too far, maybe a 20 minute mile or so, and when I got there I saw a parking lot full of cars, and a scene straight out of downeast.  Hugh was right, this place was authentic.  And the Wharf patron was right too, I was definitely going back there for dinner.  But not before a beer, some live music, and an order of onion rings.  I couldn’t resist when I saw they were long and stringy like the ones at the Bagaduce.  The band was pretty good.  I sat outside for a bit and people watched.  It was good people watching.  You could tell it was one of the only places in town because everyone was there.  All walks of life and backgrounds.

On my way back, I explored the intersection a bit and found the post office, and ice cream stand, and a Dysarts with a large, well-stocked convenience store.  Maybe even better described as a small grocery store.  Although a mile from the deep water anchorage/moorings, Bunker’s Harbor was a good little pitstop, with great food right on the dock, and provisions and some other options a short walk away with a good chance of a free ride!  I have been singing the praises of the Cruising Guide, but they missed the mark on this one.

I went back to the Wharf for dinner as had been suggested.  I wanted to give them as much money as I could since they had given me a free mooring.  I’m so glad I went.  The bar was lively, but not packed, there was a seat for me next to the woman who had given me directions.  She was there with her husband who had been born in Bunker’s Harbor 70 years ago, and actually once lived in the building where we were eating.  My new friends informed me that seated to my left, on the other side was the three time Miss Maine runner up.  She was young, and beautiful, and worked at the Wharf for the summer but was heading back to Orono in a few days for the school year.  I immediately hoped she had aspirations to sail around the world with me, but realized she was too young.  And later learned that Dana’s son was dating her, and that meant she was likely off limits.  Dana was there with a guy named Buddha.  All sitting at the bar.  Dog that was killed

Breakfast with Dana at Chase’s.  the Dog that was killed.  Plans for the wharf and the Airbnb.  Winter Harbor potential.  Roxanne Quimby and her investment in WinterPort.  Great real estate opportunity in Bunkers Harbor. 

On to Blue Hill, where I stayed on the mooring at a John Calvin Stevens house from the 1890s at the mouth of the harbor