In the Right Place: Ditched

Tawney-hued wild daylilies are starting to congregate along our roadsides and elsewhere. They soon will become cheering crowds waving at passing vehicles.

They’re native to Asia, but came here with our earliest European colonists and have since naturalized themselves in North American.

These emblems of high summer are called daylilies because of their trumpet-shaped flowers that often are opened by the touch of the sun and wither overnight. They also are commonly called ditch lilies due to their proclivity to colonize roadside ditches and other sloping surfaces.

Notwithstanding their descriptive names, these tawny wild flowers are lily look-alikes, not members of the lily family (Lilium). Unlike true lilies that grow from delicate bulbs, these wild daylilies (Hemerocallis fulva) grow perennially from tough roots and runners. That means that they can be invasive; think twice about replanting them.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on July 2, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Political Sailing

We awoke yesterday morning to see this sight: the Schooner Stephen Taber and its apparently sleeping passengers moored in Great Cove, just off of Babson Island. She was on a privately chartered cruise, according to her schedule:

By the time that I could get to the shore late that morning, she was gone. However, here’s one of my archive images of her under full sail, when she’s most impressive:

Leighton Archive Image

The 110-foot Taber was built in 1871 and is a National Historic Landmark that hails from Rockland, Maine. Curiously, she was named after a once-famed, but now forgotten,19th Century New York politician.

As with many coastal cargo cruisers in the 1800s, the Taber was built with a flat bottom to “ground out” and discharge her cargo without the need for a pier. She does have a centerboard to lower as a keel during cruising, but has no motor; her motorized yawl boat Babe pushes her in light air.

(Primary image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on July 1, 2022.)

June Postcards From Maine

Summer comes to us in June. It brings stampeding stratocumulus clouds and awakens wild flowers in our fields, including pea-podded lupins, blue- and yellow-flagged irises, and millions of daisies and buttercups.

With the arrival of full-leaf canopies, our woods become delightfully dappled in June, but they can begin to dry out. This year, the mossy-banked wood’s streams dwindled early, making us worry about a possible serious drought by August.

June is when ferns in the darker, boggier parts of the woods catch the light as if to illuminate the bashful lady’s slipper and jack-in-the pulpit plants hiding there.

The runoff from the woods’ streams often leads to ponds where native fragrant water lily plants have been sleeping within the murky bottoms. Their pads begin to rise to the surface in late May and early June and, by the end of June, they have formed galaxies around their bursting, white flowers.

Around the edges of the ponds, there often are sprays of graceful arrow arum with some of their leaves drooping into the water as if pointing out, with a delicate finger, the rising new lily pads. These pond edges actually are a series of small kingdoms in which green frogs reign and bellow warnings to potential intruders.

June is when many of our feathered summer residents give birth and start to teach their eager nestlings how to survive in the wild. Female ospreys occupy the penthouse suites and spread their wings to shade their young from the sun, while calling for their mates to bring the family food. Their mates obey and bring fish to feed the family.

In the lower regions, male red-winged blackbirds screech at any intruder that comes near their nestlings hidden among the cattail roots; the sparrow-like females often leave their nest to encourage their mates’ belligerence. Tree swallows take over bluebird housing, flying in with gobs of insects to feed their young and flying out with gobs of that food after it had been digested. Mother mallards don’t have to teach their ducklings how to swim, but they do have to teach them where to swim when they are vulnerable.

On the waterfront, June is when the schooners and other sailing coastal cruisers come to our Great Cove to moor overnight and to provide their passengers with the opportunity to tour the WoodenBoat School here. They arrived and departed in this June’s rain and shine: the red-trimmed/gray-hulled Lewis R. French; the red-sailed/green-hulled Angelique; the white-trimmed/gray-hulled Mary Day, and the wood-trimmed/white-hulled Ladona.

On the working waterfront, June is when most of our fishermen (male and female) begin the summer coastal water lobster season at our Naskeag Harbor. It’s when they load their traps, lines, and buoys onto their vessels to take them out and set them in their favorite spots.

There also is an educational waterfront in Great Cove, where the WoodenBoat School’s sailing classes begin in June. Sometimes, there was no wind worthy of raising a sail, a time for actual and metaphysical reflection.

At other times, it was cold. windy, and drizzly for those attending open-air classes and learning the ins and outs of a 12 1/2-foot sailboat or learning how to row and sail a 28-foot double-ended open boat in bad weather.

And, often, it was a glorious time when the new sailors captured and held the harmony that plays between wind and water on a sunny day.

Finally, June also has its glorious times in the gardens. Among many moments, it’s when lilacs reach their peak density and fragrance before withering poignantly; when peonies are opening to their fullest lushness; when cultivated day lilies begin their daily arrivals and departures; when the tight buds of rhododendrons explode into flowers, and when poppies behave outrageously.

(All images shown above were taken in Brooklin, Maine, dirung June 2022.)

In the Right Place: Peakness

Peonies seem to be at their peak in this area now. Here we peer into the soul of an unusual peach-colored peony in full bloom today:

For those of you who like your garden flowers big, dramatic, complex, varied, and long-living, peonies are a good choice. (Some reportedly still are producing flowers at the age of 100 years.)

Peonies (usually pronounced “PEE-uh-knees”) are named in honor of Paeon, the Greek god of medicine; and, indeed, their flowers and other parts have been used in Asian medicines and teas for centuries. The roots of white peonies are among the oldest known traditional Chinese medicines.

(Images taken in Brooklin and Blue Hill, Maine, in May and June , 2022.)

In the Right Place: Neat

One by one, the local fishing vessels are being loaded with their lobster traps at Naskeag Harbor, where the beginning of the coastal water lobster season has been unfolding for more than a week.

One of the things that is fascinating about this process is how neat and efficient most of the fishermen are in transporting and stacking their traps, each of which has been stuffed like a colorful pepper with coiled lines and bright buoys.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 27 [truck] and 28 [vessel], 2022.)

In the Right Place: A Beauty by Any Other Name

Here you see the small schooner Ladona sailing elegantly into Great Cove as the sun set Sunday evening. She was on a four-night cruise that featured live music, according to her schedule.

She moored overnight and awoke to a cold and windy morning with part sun. Her passengers disembarked and visited the WoodenBoat School campus.

As the wind increased, it started to rain . Ladona reefed and raised sails, weighed anchor, hoisted her jib sails while getting underway, and sailed north into Eggemoggin Reach.:

Ladona (usually pronounced here as “lah-DOE-nah”) is an 83-foot schooner out of Rockland, Maine. She was launched under that name as a racing yacht in 1922 in East Boothbay, Maine, and reportedly took first in her class in the 1933 Bermuda Cup. She still remains one of the fastest windjammers in the Maine fleet.

She reportedly was named after a Civil War gunship on which her original owner’s father had served, but research indicates that her name was misspelled – the Civil War vessel apparently was named Lodona. not Ladona.

Ladona, herself, performed Navy duty as a submarine coastal patrol vessel during World War II. After the War, she apparently trawled for fish out of Stonington, Connecticut, under the name Jane Doré. She was renovated in 1971 as a training vessel and named Nathaniel Bowditch, after the founder of modern sea navigation.

She kept that name when she moved to Maine in the 1980s and became a coastal passenger cruiser. In 2014-2015, she was extensively restored again, given luxury appointments, and rechristened with her original name, Ladona. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 26 and 27, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Osprey Report -- Breaking News!

Harriet has done it again: She and Ozzie have three nestlings, as you’ll see here if you look closely:

Of course, the first two born will be named David and Ricky to keep up Nelson Family traditions; the third will be named June in honor of the month of her birth. We have no idea of the sex of any of them, of course, but the names will facilitate further reports on their development. It is not unusual for the last born and smallest osprey hatchling to be bullied by her siblings and even mysteriously disappear.

Harriet has had three offspring each of the last four years that I’ve been monitoring the nest, which reportedly is the usual number of hatchlings that ospreys have. However, last year, the smallest one disappeared after about a month of jostling.

We know from their size and eye color that these new ospreys are a few days old. They are born with blue eyes, which turn red in a few days, and then turn golden when the birds mature. (Images taken on June 26, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Day Sailing

Here you see the schooner Mary Day weighing anchor while getting help from her yawl boat in light air on Wednesday.

She was in Great Cove after overnighting here. According to her schedule, she was on a four-day cruise to celebrate the summer solstice while also visiting Down East lighthouses.

Mary is a 125-foot schooner with classic mercantile coastal cruiser lines, but she was built in 1962 just for passenger cruises. (She reportedly has heat in every tourist cabin.) She was built in South Bristol, Maine, and named after the wife of the late Captain Havilah Hawkins, Senior, who designed the vessel and owned her for about 20 years. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 24, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Jacks Are Wild

Our annual reunion of preachers named Jack has occurred later this year and with fewer attendees. We’re talking, of course, about the arrival of our Jack-in-the-pulpit plants (Arisaema triphyllum) that love dark boggy areas in the woods. Perhaps their sparse attendance is because our woods are in a moderate drought now.

We seem to have a significant number of the plants’ three-part (trifoliate) church leaves, but without their underlying striped pulpits (spathes) in which the Jacks (flower spikes/spadices) appear. I’ve been unable to find the reason why the name “Jack” was chosen for the preachers. (Perhaps it was inspired by the historic Jack-in-the-box toy.)

These native plants are lovely, graceful things, but dangerous: their leaves are significant irritants to humans and can be toxic to horses, dogs, and cats. Nonetheless, Native Americans used the plants’ roots to treat rheumatism and snake bites. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 22, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Surprises

Angelique was in Great Cove when the dawn sunlight reached there yesterday, as you see here. She was on a six-night private charter, according to her schedule.

She left in mid-morning before I had a chance to get down to the shore to take some close-ups:

Instead of going down to the shore, I researched how this unique 130-foot ketch got her name, thinking that there might be a juicy story about a beautiful French femme fatale named Angelique in the vessel’s history. In doing so, I received two surprises from a 2021 Captains’ Quarters interview with the windjammer’s original owner and primary designer, Mike Anderson.

First, although it is true that the vessel was named after a long-limbed beauty, those limbs weren’t legs. It was named after one of the purple/brown hardwoods imported from French Guiana and Suriname that are used in boat and ship construction: “Angelique wood” (Dicornya quianensis). A significant irony here is that the vessel has a steel compartmentalized hull.

The second surprise was that Angelique was not designed (in 1980) to replicate a 19th Century North Atlantic fishing trawler, as frequently reported. Although she does resemble one of those trawlers somewhat, her design was inspired by early pilot sailboats and early large sailing yachts, according to Captain Anderson. He was designing a vessel for passenger traffic, not for fishing or commercial hauling, he said.

(Images taken on June 23, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Color June Dry

Precipitation and stream flows continue to be below what is needed here in Down East Maine. If our July and August are hotter and dryer than last year, as some predict, the situation could turn into something very nasty. We’re still in a moderate drought, according to the federal U.S. Drought Monitor:

Below, you see one of our spring-fed streams in the woods yesterday. It’s flow usually is much more robust in June than it has been this year:

The water levels in our ponds, which are fed by such streams, are not as markedly lower than the streams, but they do show signs of drying around the edges. Nonetheless, most ponds still are lovely sights:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 22, 2022.)

In the Right Place: You Think You've Got It Hard?

Every year, our local blue bird boxes are taken over by tree swallows, which are very busy now feeding their families of four to seven fledglings.

Mom and Dad share the immense feeding and cleanup chores. (The parents incessantly deliver food to the big-mouthed youngsters and clean up after them by taking out their droppings.)

A pair of these fast-flying acrobats reportedly needs a daily diet of about 6,000 small insects – all caught in the air – to feed themselves and their fledglings. Extended periods of cold and rain (when small insects don’t fly) can have a devastating effect on the birds. Tree swallows not only eat on the fly, they drink and bathe while skimming over still water.

Although these birds remain common breeders In Maine, they have experienced tremendous declines in recent decades, according to noted New England ornithologist Peter D. Vickery. This is part of an overall decline in North America of swallows and most other air-hunting insectivores, he reports in Birds of Maine (2020). (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 19 and 21, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Harmonization

Introductory sailing classes began yesterday at the WoodenBoat School. It was a chilly day, but there were good breezes for the students to learn the art of harmonizing wind and water into movement.

They were sailing some of the most responsive small sailboats ever designed: Herreshoff and Haven “12 ½ s” (which measure 12 ½ feet at the waterline and 15’ 11” overall).

The Havens are, basically, a Herreshoff with a removable keel for shallow water sailing.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 20, 2022.)

In the Right Place: When Looking Old Is Looking Good

Here you see the distinctive Angelique moored in Great Cove on Thursday morning. She was on a passenger cruise that included a tour of nearby Acadia National Park and the WoodenBoat School campus here.

Angelique is 130 feet long overall and the only Maine windjammer that is configured as a gaff-rigged topsail ketch. (Note that, unlike a two-masted schooner, Angelique’s foremast is her main [taller] mast, not her aft mast.)

Her “tanbark” reddish sails also are unique in the Maine windjammer fleet. In days of yore, when sails were cotton, they were dipped in vats of tannic acid, tallow, and red ocher, which turned them reddish and protected against mildew.

Angelique was created old. She actually was launched in 1980, but was designed to look like a 19th Century English North Sea fishing trawler. Her modern conveniences, including a metal hull and two auxiliary diesel engines, are not obvious. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 16, 2022.) For a few more images of Angelique, click this:

She departed under a clouding sky at midday:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 16, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Osprey Nest Report

Ozzie and Harriet have been well and are acting very much like there are eggs and/or one or more nestlings in the lower reaches of their summer home here. (It’s more likely to be eggs at this time.)

Above, you see Harriet on Thursday, doing what many birders call “begging” on the nest, although “complaining” seems more apt to me. She often does this until Ozzie comes by and delivers a fish. Note that she is crouched and has her wings slightly spread, a typical stance for shading eggs or nestlings from the sun while letting air flow below her.

The image is a different story, however:

That’s Harriet returning to her nest after a 10-minute break – and she’s soaking wet. It’s more likely that she has just taken a thorough bath than just been unsuccessful at fishing. However, this raises an issue that may be of interest to some of you who have never looked into an osprey nest.

Osprey nests contain rotting fish parts, fresh and dry blood from fish, dust and soil from imported moss and lichen “beds,” and feces when there are nestlings or the parents’ sphincter muscles have misfired. Stated another way, osprey nests are dirty places that attract swarms of flies and other pests, including a wide variety of parasites that infest the birds.

Thus, regular bathing is common among ospreys. I’ve only seen ospreys bathing in fresh water, but they may bathe in salt water as well. Perhaps one of you has seen them do so.

The bathing ospreys that I’ve seen stand shoulder-high in the shallows and continually dip their heads and bodies in the water, shake themselves, and wave their wet wings about – just like robins in a bird bath. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 16, 2022.)

In the Right Place: It's Started!

Naskeag Harbor is busy lately. Lobster fishermen are loading their traps from the Town Dock onto their fishing vessels, piling them high on deck. The traps will be set in our coastal waters. Below, you’ll see the Fishing Vessel Judith Ann taking off after being loaded cloudy Thursday.

It’s the beginning of the lobster fishing season here and every lobster-oriented thing looks sparkling and tidy. Below, you’ll see a trailer-load of traps near the Dock waiting to be stacked on an incoming fishing vessel on sunny Wednesday.

Let’s hope that this season is as good or better than the last, which set a record. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 15 [truck] and 16 [boat], 2022.)

In the Right Place: Disturbing Signs

Here you see an image of one of our local ponds as it appeared Wednesday,

We hope that it will remain beautiful all summer, but the signs are not promising.

Yesterday’s official U.S. Drought Monitor shows that our area of Down East Maine already is in a moderate drought and there is a wide swath of abnormally dry conditions in significant parts of the rest of Maine:

Yet, it’s only mid-June and we’re on the New England coast!

The Monitor points out that precipitation and stream flows in Maine have been below normal in many areas and that soil moisture remains negative across much of Maine. The situation is much worse in the western states, but that certainly doesn’t make me feel better. (Lucky, maybe.)

By the way, it rained last night and this morning, but it wasn’t the kind of soaking rain that we need and have not been getting. (Photograph taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 15, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Gam Cruise

The Lewis R. French sailed into Great Cove at dusk Tuesday and slept over; she awakened nestled among her smaller sailing cousins.

According to her schedule, the 101-foot schooner is on a five-night cruise that includes a “Schooner Gam,” an event in which 15 traditional tall ships will raft together for an evening of music, vessel touring, and sailing comradery. The French will be one of the oldest vessels there, having been launched in 1871.

She raised sail, weighed anchor and, with a motorized push from her yawl boat, sailed out of the Cove headed north into Eggemoggin Reach:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 14 and 15, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Little Devils

Wild yellow flag iris plants (Iris pseudacorus) have started their short blooming period here in our wetter areas. They’re reportedly the only completely yellow, large wild iris now growing naturally in North America.

Although not native to North America, they have become naturalized wildflowers here and are spreading rapidly in Maine and elsewhere, according to the reports that I’ve seen. That’s not good; these handsome little devils are extremely invasive.

The Maine Department of Agriculture, Conservation & Forestry states that they may be controlled with chemicals or by digging them up (wear gloves), bagging them, and disposing of them with the garbage. Note, however, that special rules apply to using herbicides to control plants in or near wetlands and water bodies in Maine. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 14, 2022.)

In the Right Place: Opening Act

Fragrant waterlilies (Nymphaea odorata) are just starting to appear in our ponds. Their long-stemmed leaves – lily pads – started rising weeks ago and already appear to be attracting water lily aphids and leaf beetles. (See the image in the first Comment space.)

The white flowers of this native species usually open during sunny morning hours and are closed by mid-afternoon; they sometimes will close when a day turns very cloudy.  The lily pads provide shade for fish and aquatic invertebrates, such as dragonfly nymphs. The tops of the pads become floats for frogs to loll and birds to stand, both looking for water bugs.

The fragrant water lily seeds reportedly are a favorite of ducks and other waterfowl, and their underwater stems (rhizomes) are munched by muskrats, beaver, deer, moose, and even porcupines. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on June 10 [pads] and 12 [lily], 2022.)