This image of a Clearwing Hummingbird Moth appeared yesterday in our monthly column in the Ellsworth American.
To read the column, click here: http://www.5backroad.com/montly-column
(Brooklin, Maine)
Here’s Atlantide, a historic vessel that was moored in Great Cove earlier this week.
She’s a 122-foot, steel-hulled motor yacht with two masts on which sails can be hoisted for stability in the open sea.
She was built in 1930 in Dartmouth, England, and used to evacuate troops during the Dunkirk, France, extraction during World War II.
Atlantide is now out of nearby East Blue Hill and leads a sedate life. (Brooklin, Maine)
Today’s trivial questions are: (1) Why were Painted Lady Butterflies given that awful name? and (2) What’s the best way to distinguish American Painted Ladies from other Painted Ladies around here?
First, the scientists who name butterflies apparently considered these butterflies to be gaudy – “painted ladies” has long been a slang reference to prostitutes, many of whom historically wore garish makeup. The name is doubly demeaning for the poor male Painted Ladies.
Second, we not only have Painted Ladies with no given nationality working our neighborhood, we also have Painted Ladies known as Americans. The biggest difference? The eyes of the American Painted Ladies are gaudier. The Americans have two large eyespots on the underside (“ventral” side) of their hind wings, whereas the Ladies without a country have a series of smaller spots. That’s a Painted Lady above, and this is an American Painted Lady:
The topsides (“dorsal” sides) of both species are a sedate orange-brown with less intricate markings. It’s often hard to distinguish the two species by looking at their topsides. That’s a Painted Lady on the left and an American Painted Lady on the right:
(Brooklin, Maine)
Here’s Spirit, a Cornish Pilot Gig, being rowed on Great Cove Friday morning, August 2, by members of a WoodenBoat School rowing course.
In days of yore, pilots often competed for the work of guiding incoming vessels into Atlantic Sea harbors in America and Europe; the pilot whose gig crew got him aboard the incoming ship first usually got the work. Those gigs also were among the first vessels used for shore-based lifeboats that rowed out to ships in distress.
As with Spirit, Cornish Pilot Gigs usually were 32 feet long with a beam (widest width) of just under five feet. Their six 14-foot oars were placed alternatively with one oarsman pulling one oar (a characteristic of a “gig”). Today, enthusiasts build these gigs to the old specifications and race them in CPG clubs. Spirit was built at the Apprenticeshop in Rockland, Maine, and was visiting at the time this image was taken.
The word “gig” reportedly originated from old English words that were associated with “bouncing” and “spinning” – something that can happen when these vessels heroically broach large waves. (Brooklin, Maine)
Now that the ground is mostly dried out, we’re seeing more mushrooms bullying their way to the surface here. Some have surprising, albeit descriptive, common names. For example, look at this tawny-red mushroom. You can see why it’s called a Red-Mouth Bolete (Boletus subvelutipes).
Technically, DNA has revealed that this mushroom is one of about a dozen closely-related mushrooms called collectively Red-Mouths. These Boletes are beautiful to see and nice to touch – they feel like velvet. However, we dare not taste them; they’re poisonous.
Mushrooms in the large Bolete family have no gills; they seem to be smooth under their caps, but that’s where they have minute tubes from which their spores drop. (Brooklin, Maine)
Here we see the renowned Spartan yesterday, crossing the very hazy finish line in Great Cove before any other boat in the Annual Eggemoggin Reach Regatta. (Being first to cross, of course, doesn’t necessarily mean that she’ll be determined to be First or First in Class for this year, since boats start the 15-mile course at different times and their finishing times may be adjusted based on handicaps.)
The renovated Spartan sailed in the Regatta’s Vintage Class for good reason. She apparently is the last of the nine “New York 50s” commissioned by the New York Yacht Club and built in the winter of 1912-1913. Spartan was the sixth 50 built and still proudly flies a “NY 6” mainsail. As with her eight sisters, she’s 50 feet long at the water line (72 feet overall) and was designed by the famed naval architect Nathanael Greene Herreshoff, whose company built the boats.
Here we see some of Spartan’s competitors turning into Great Cove about a quarter of a mile from the finish flag:
(Brooklin, Maine)
We found quintessential August yesterday, and it was only about a mile south of us on Naskeag Road. This fallowed field is full of late summer wildflowers and a few volunteer perennials that are trying to fit in.
We’ll be taking this image out again in January, when we’ve forgotten what short sleeve weather feels like. (Brooklin, Maine)
We’ve been seeing what we believe is a juvenile Red-Tailed Hawk hunting over our fields and resting at their edges. It doesn’t have the rufous-colored tail of an adult yet, but it has the wheezy hunting cry of other Red-Tails that we’ve been privileged to meet.
Red-Tails apparently are our most common hawks, but their plumage is about as variable as teen tee shirts. This can confuse those of us who have not earned a black belt in birding.
The adults mate for life and share the egg-incubating and fledgling-feeding chores. It appears that their favorite foods are small mammals, but they’ll take snakes and even insects when times are tough. (Brooklin, Maine) Prior year images used here.
We awakened early this first day of August and, as usual, looked out to make sure that Great Cove was still in place. It not only was, but two old friends were rising on the incoming tide down there: the dark-hulled, 120-foot J.&E. Riggin and the light-hulled, 125-foot Mary Day.
Although it’s supposed to be unseasonably hot here today, the schooners’ visit seemed like a good omen to begin the month and try to come to grips with the fact that June and July are already gone. So was Mary at about 8:30 a.m. Here’s a closer look at her as her passengers were waking up:
(Brooklin, Maine)
Summer is how many people imagine Maine and July is the heart of summer here.. This year’s July was a little too hot, a little too wet , and a little too foggy at times – but we wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the month. Among other things, it usually was a fine time to stroll under clouds in open space, travel country roads, or walk beside streams under a forest canopy.
July is when new-born fawns are strong enough to come out of the deep woods with their mothers.
This year, because of an unusually wet and cold June, some of our natural cycles were delayed. In July, young Ospreys were still staying close to the nest, although they would take test flights every now and then. Male Song Sparrows, Common Yellow-Throated Warblers, and Bobolinks were still singing their hearts out.
The Bee Balm plants peaked in July, which meant an invasion of female Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds. (Most of the males of this species, which are the only ones with ruby throats, mate in May or June and continue migrating north.)
Hummingbird imitators also are at their peak during July. Here we see Clearwing Hummingbird Moths doing everything that hummingbirds can do to Milkweed.
Although not as agile as Hummingbird Moths, our butterflies probably do a better job of pollinating the flowers. They have to get down on the flowers and get dusted by pollen. Among our most common butterflies are White Admirals and Tiger Swallowtails.
Of particular interest and concern are our Monarch Butterflies, which have had their ups and downs recently. We saw good numbers of Monarchs this July and plenty of Monarch Caterpillars on the Milkweed leaves — the only leaves that these finicky insects will eat.
July also is the month to see Dragonflies, Damselflies, and Turtles in and around our freshwater ponds. Below we see a Twelve-Spotted Dragonfly approaching some Cow Vetch and some Painted Turtles unsuccessfully trying to change species and play leapfrog.
We move now from freshwater to the salty sea and bays that surround our peninsular. Naskeag Harbor, below, is a working harbor as well as a recreational one.
The fishing vessels here usually start setting lobster traps in early June, but this year weather delayed them also. They still were setting traps out in mid-July.
Our Great Cove is the place to see plenty of coastal cruising schooners in July. Here we see the Stephen Taber coming in and going out of the Cove. She’s a 110-footer that was launched in 1871.
Another frequent visitor is the Mary Day in which the passengers help raise the sails and the yawl boat before she hoists anchor. Mary was built for the tourist trade in 1962 and is 125 feet long overall.
The yellow-hulled Heritage is the youngest of the schooners, having been built for the tourist trade in 1983. She’s a 145-footer.
The American Eagle was launched as a fishing vessel under a different name in 1930. After some hard times, she was renovated on 1986 into this sleek tourist schooner:
July was a good month for diversity in Great Cove. Among the more interesting vessels were Salty Paws and Tugnacious, a matched pair of Lord Nelson Victory Tugs; Little Bear, a yacht that is a sardine carrier replica, and Norna, a high-sterned wooden cutter built in Denmark.
Nonetheless, for sheer July fun, nothing seems to beat the WoodenBoat School’s 12-and-1/2-foot sailboats, which dart around like water bugs most of the time.
Of course, boats are built and reconstructed In July at WoodenBoat in fascinating workspaces:
It may surprise some to hear that Down East Maine also is a gardener’s heaven with famous public gardens. (Brooklin has had a garden club since 1935.) The wet spring seemed to help many garden flowers, including these local Peonies,Poppies, and Roses putting on July faces:
Where garden flowers prosper, wild ones usually do as well. And, that was the case in July for many wild flowers. Among others, Day Lilies burst open, Wild Irises (Blue Flags and Yellow Flags) were robust in wetlands, and Queen Anne’s Lace appeared. Hawkweed, Crown Vetch, and Butter and Eggs were all over the fields and borders. Water Lilies first appeared in July to grace many ponds
Two annual July Brooklin events are worth remembering. Our Independence Day parade/concert/picnic is one of the best small town celebrations. The annual Small Reach Regatta is one of the most unusual events: it’s for small sailing vessels of any heritage and they sail in Eggemoggin Reach. This July, the wind was a sometimes-thing, which meant that there was some rowing going on — and it was hot.
Lack of wind on a hot day is not always bad, however.. That usually means the sea is still and the horizon hazy, which can produce visual delights:
(All images above were taken in Brooklin and neighboring Blue Hill, Maine, during July of 2019.)
This is Norna yesterday morning in Great Cove. She’s a 37-footer out of St. Augustine, Florida, and one of the more unusual vessels we’ve seen here.
She’s a lapstrake cutter (some say cruiser) made in Denmark that sails with a gaff-rigged mainsail and two jibs. She has two rectangular sails that can be rigged from her yardarm, as well.
Norna was featured in the book Accidental Sailor Girl by Kourtney Patterson (2014, Paper Sailor, Inc.).
(Brooklin, Maine)
This seems to be a good year for Monarch Butterflies, a species that sometimes runs into difficulties. Monarchs love a variety of flowers, but lay their eggs only on milkweed leaves. That’s because milkweed is all their finicky caterpillars will eat, which is one of the specie’s handicaps.
Above and below, we see a Monarch Butterfly amorously drawing nectar from a milkweed flower yesterday, while a Monarch Caterpillar voraciously munches the leaves of the same plant.
Those caterpillars, which look like a summer bracelet of yellow/white/black bands, gorge themselves for about two weeks. Then, they spin silk, attach themselves to their plant, and wrap themselves into hanging cocoons (chrysalises). In those cocoons, they’ll mysteriously transform into, and emerge as, an orange and black Monarch Butterfly that will feed on much more than milkweed.
Both the caterpillars and butterflies are brightly colored to warn predators that they are toxic (due to the early milkweed diet). (Brooklin, Maine)
Here we view the sleek lines of the American Eagle in Great Cove earlier this month. We see her early in the morning before her passengers come on deck.
When she was ready to leave, there was no wind; so, she motored out. But, here’s what she looks like under sail here at a prior time:
The Eagle is a 90-foot coastal cruiser and a National Historic Landmark out of Rockland, Maine. She was launched in 1930 as the Andrew & Rosalie, the last fishing schooner built in Gloucester, Massachusetts. In 1941, during World War II, she was renamed American Eagle. She fished until 1983 and then went through hard times until she was totally renovated in 1986 as a tourist schooner.
(Brooklin, Maine)
Funny thing about our Bee Balm: it doesn’t attract many bees. But Hummingbirds, that’s a different story. The violently red Bee Balm matured this week about 10 days late, and the voracious Hummingbirds swarmed immediately, as to say: “What took you so long?”
Ruby-Throated Hummingbirds are our only species of Hummers here, other than the occasional lost stray. And, at this time of year, we only have females, which don’t have ruby throats. Both genders migrate here and mate in the Spring; then, the females stay to keep house and the males go to Canada to party.
Both genders are less than four inches long, but they have high-performance engines. They can fly horizontally up to 25 miles an hour and dive up to 40. Their wingbeats average a blurry 53 per second and, when in passing gear, the beats can reach 200 a second, which means they consume a lot of nectar fuel. See also the image in the first Comment space.
(Brooklin, Maine)
Here we have our Gertrude Jekyll climbing rose, a hybrid that was named after the famed garden designer of the early 20th Century.
It makes us wonder why we don’t see more roses in gardens these days. We mean the ones that symbolized beauty with their balanced features, arousing scents, and softness to the touch – the roses of William Shakespeare, Robert Burns, Emily Bronte, Robert Frost, and many others who wondered with words.
Perhaps roses are out of favor because they have a reputation for being difficult to care for, although newer hybrids seem to be very hardy. Perhaps we’ve been desensitized by the South American rose farm products that arrive embalmed by preservatives and a scent that is a vague guess at what could have been. If these had been the roses of Shakespeare’s time, we never would have heard Juliet say, "A rose by any other name would smell so sweet." (Brooklin, Maine)
The Schooner Heritage was in Great Cove Tuesday (July23) afternoon. She’s 145 feet long overall and sports a unique yellow hull.
She hoisted sail in the late afternoon and took a southerly course out of the Cove as the sun was going down behind her.
She jibed to the northwest as the breeze picked up. The low, soft light found her in the haze of Eggemoggin Reach. It felt like we were peering into the 19th Century on its best day.
The Heritage’s classic lines make it easy to forget that she’s the youngest of our coastal cruisers, having been designed for the tourist trade and launched in 1983. She’s 145 feet long overall and has a unique yellow hull. Her home port is Rockland, Maine. (Brooklin, Maine)
These Great Cove visitors curse and chatter loudly when they’re disturbed, which is why they’re commonly called “Yelpers,” “Telltales,” and “Tattlers.” However, the official name-givers for birds decided that these fish chasing Sandpipers should be called Greater Yellow Legs.
Their official name, of course, begs the question of them being “Greater than what?” The name-givers covered themselves on that by calling a shorter yellow-legged sandpiper a Lesser Yellow Legs. It seems to us that calling these birds “Larger” and “Smaller” would be less demeaning and more accurate.
The common names of flora and fauna vary with language; that’s why we need unchanging and universal scientific names for them. Nonetheless, we’ve never heard someone who spots a Greater Yellow Legs shout, “Look! There’s a Tringa melanoleuca!” (Brooklin, Maine)
Here we have a good-looking couple at rest after they spent a night together in Great Cove last week. But, not to worry: this is not a piece on the boring sex lives of Tugboats. It’s about the interesting limited collection of Lord Nelson Victory Tugs, such as these. They were built as recreational yachts, not as working vessels.
Only 86 LNVTs were built. All were produced between 1983 and 1997 for Seattle-based Lord Nelson Yachts, Inc. Virtually all these yachts were 37-footers, as are the ones shown here.
The vessel on the left in the two-boat image above is Salty Paws out of Boothbay, Maine; she’s the 66th LNVT built. On the right is Tugnacious out of Burlington, Vermont; she’s the 7th one built. All of the other images here are of Tugnacious.
It’s always a pleasure to see one of these ruggedly graceful boats; to see a matched pair is a thrill. (Brooklin, Maine) See also Tugnacious alone in the first Comment space.
Poppies have had a good season here this year and some still are in business, as was this one on Friday (July 21). The four colorful, crepe-like Poppy petals attract pollinators into an efficient trading room. In that room, the rings of the flower’s male stamens offer up anthers that carry thousands of pollen grains.
These grains attach to visiting pollinators that, while looking for nectar, rub against the female stigma in the center. There, the grains fertilize the bulbous, star-crowned ovary that is coated with the sticky nectar and hairs. The ovary swells and gives birth to the seeds that will produce more plants. In opium Poppies, it’s the ovary that contains the milky latex that is extracted to make raw opium for drugs. (Brooklin, Maine)
Here’s an image of a summer school room that might seem odd to students engaged in traditional academics.
But, not to the many students of boat building and boat restoration, or to those who just love to work wood with basic tools. For them, that image and the one below are previews of a heaven in which angels come in the form of hull jigs and prayers are said with plank fasteners.
These are images of three of the many (and varied) teaching and storage spaces at the renowned WoodenBoat School here on the coast of Maine. It’s summer school heaven.
(Brooklin, Maine)