In the Right Place: Hometown Girl

Summer sailing in Great Cove officially may begin.

Legendary “Martha” returned to her mooring there on Tuesday. She was the first sailboat to return to her summer home in the Cove, which soon will be colonized by many vessels. But none with her fascinating history.

Martha was built here in 1967 by the famed Brooklin naval architect and founder of the renowned Brooklin Boat Yard, Joel White. Joel built it for his even more famous father, the New York- and Brooklin-based author E.B. White (“Charlotte’s Web,” etc.). The vessel was named after Martha White, Joel’s daughter, the granddaughter of E.B. (“call me Andy”).

There’s more for those of you who are fascinated by man-made things that wander over water by wind. “Martha” is almost 20 feet long overall (19’ 9”) and has been designated as a sloop-rigged Crocker-inspired pocket cruiser. A “cruiser” is built to sail on multi-day trips; that is, it’s not just a “daysailer.” Among other things, cruisers usually have at least one berth to sleep on, a stove to cook on, and a head (toilet) to sit on. 

But, being a “pocket cruiser,” “Martha” has all of the above amenities in miniaturized form, which requires exquisitely well-designed and finely built accommodations. The “pocket” designation derives from the practice of applying that term to objects that are smaller versions of usually larger things (e.g., pocketknives, pocket watches, pocket battleships, etc.).  

Martha is Crocker-inspired because, when he designed it, Joel admittedly was influenced by the designs of naval architect Samuel Sturgis Crocker. S.S. Crocker, another highly-regarded naval architect, created many small and stout cutters with sharply sweeping bows. (Take another look at Martha’s magnificent bow.)

After E.B.’s death, Martha was sold by the White family to Rich Hilsinger, the long-time former Director of the WoodenBoat School here. He promised to keep her in Brooklin where she belongs and where he still lives. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 28, 2025.) See also the image in the first Comment space.

In the Right Place: Hope Department

Clusters of exquisite, fragrant wild apple blossoms such as these are starting to appear in the gnarly, abandoned fruit trees that grow among weeds and shrubs along old roads and fields here. They seem to be reminders of the persistence of hope, like a pink-cheeked children’s choir in a decaying cathedral.  

Most of the apples from these trees were used to make cider, according to local histories. Today, they primarily feed wildlife.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 27, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Summer’s In

Fittingly, our long spate of gray/foggy/rainy weather broke Sunday evening, the eve of Memorial day’s opening of unofficial summer. As you see here, the sun was sinking in the northwest, burnishing the spruce tops on Babson Island in Great Cove and creating a spruce shadow dusk in the greening north field:

Early the next morning – Memorial Day’s awakening – the rising sun reached the field from the east and revealed one of our neighbors who had spent the night there in the newly-lush wild grasses:

She decided to be lazy on the first day of summer and basked there for more than an hour before ambling away into a beautiful summer’s day. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 25 and 26, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Memorial Day

Today we honor the men and women, known and unknown, who died in military service. A little reflection may be in order about their service being the ultimate protection for the extraordinary privileges and rights that we all-too-often take for granted and abuse.

(Leighton Archive images taken at Arlington National Cemetery of a military honors service and the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.)

In the Right Place: Buttoning Up

Here you see a somewhat ragtag white-tailed deer that is a regular visitor. He looks like a youngster that has recently lost his first rack of antlers. I think he may be too old to be considered a “button buck” with protruding pre-antler bumps (“pedicles”), but I may be wrong.  

His coat is in transition to lighter summer furs and he doesn’t yet have the haughty standoffishness of a typical white-tail male. There’s seemingly a sense of “I-didn’t-ask-to-be-a-mighty-buck about him that makes him seem vulnerable. See also the image in the first Comment space. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 5, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Bugle Call

Here you see Ajuga reptans flowering impressionistically in yesterday’s rain. This plant also is known by many names, especially as bugle, common bugle, bugleherb, bugleweed, carpet bugle, carpenter’s herb, ground pine, and St. Lawrence plant.

The plant is a ground cover in the Ajugeae branch of the mint family that reportedly has been used medicinally in some cultures. It’s officially listed as invasive in several areas, but not in Maine. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 23, 2025.)

In the Right Place: WBS Report I

Here you see some of the mooring gear – mushroom anchors and their connected buoys – for the WoodenBoat School’s fleet of small boats. The gear has been cleaned and is drying in the image. After it dried, it was reassembled and soon will be set in Great Cove, which is visible in the images.

The first two boats to go into the water probably will be those shown below. On the left is “Babson II,” an 18-foot outboard skiff; on the right is “Geronimo,” an 18-foot Westpointer. These boats are used by the WBS harbor staff to ferry students to their boats and other harbor administrative tasks.

As usual, WBS Alumni have been on campus since May 18 helping prepare classrooms, equipment, and vessels for the School’s 2025 opening on June 1. The renowned summer School attracts students from all over the world. The courses feature building wooden boats, sailing, and many other maritime-related subjects. The return of the Alumni seems to be mutually rewarding for them and the School staff.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 21 and 22, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Seeking Rhodora

Find rhodora in this image.

It may be my paranoid imagination, but it seems that every year I see fewer rhodora plants in areas other than parklands or other protected preserves. Rhodora (Rhododendron canadense), also called Canada rosebay, is one of only two wild azaleas that are native to Maine.

The other native azalea is the unfortunately-named clammy azalea (Rhododendron viscosum). It has been described by Maine officials as a “rare plant” in the state, which is the northern limit of its range. But clammy azaleas are not rare to our south.

To be fair about my concerns for rhodora, she does seem intentionally evasive as well as wayward and wild. She likes wet feet and tangled bogs. Her graceful purple-pink flowers often go unseen by people, which apparently is fine with her.

But, the U.S. is losing her favorite wandering places at an alarming pace, and I worry about whether her lifestyle is disappearing. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 20, 2025.)

In the Right Place: In the Eye of the Beholder

Painted turtles spend so much of their time basking above their own reflections that they bring to mind the Greek myth about Narcissus. He was an extraordinarily handsome man who saw his own reflection in a pool and didn’t realize that he was looking at himself. He fell in love with his own beauty, couldn’t stop looking at himself, and eventually withered into a Narcissus flower.

Painted turtles, or Eastern PTs (Chrysemys picta picta) to be more precise, probably are our most beautiful freshwater turtles for those who can expand their perceptions of beauty to reptiles. In any case, these turtles certainly are our most colorful.

Their heads, neck, and legs range from dark olive green to black, with bright yellow and red streaking. The tops of their shells (their carapaces) are dark olive with pale yellow borders around their shell plates (their scutes) and bright yellow and/or red markings at the shell borders. The bottoms of their shells (their plastrons) range from pale yellow to red-orange, sometimes with a central inkblot-like marking.

Nonetheless, painted turtles are not narcissists. They’re realists. Turtles have to bask for a number of reasons, chief of which is to regulate their cold-blooded body temperatures, especially to warm up enough to remain active. The sunlight also allows them to synthesize vitamin D3 for bone health and calcium absorption and helps avoid fungal infections.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 3 and 18, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Of Future Lives and Past Deaths

Here you see one of our native common shadblows, which are blossoming and leafing-out now here. These small trees and bushes also are known as common serviceberry plants in New England, among other less-used names for the various species within the genus.

The plants’ most common names come with interesting histories relating to their earliest descriptions. They’re thought to have been named “shadblows” many years ago because their flowers tend to bloom (“blow”) when American shad (fish) are ascending rivers to spawn new lives.

They’re also thought to have been called “serviceberry” trees or bushes by the first European settlers of New England. These were hardy people, but they usually found it too difficult to dig graves in the frozen ground for those who died in the winter. They reportedly held the postponed funeral “services” and burials for those deceased people when these plants bloomed and/or their berries started to form. That meant that the ground was thoroughly thawed. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 19, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Liar-Liar! Paint’s on Fire!!

We’ve been having quite a bit of fog and light rain lately; in fact, it’s overcast here with a prediction of rain, as I write to you. We’re optimistic about seeing a sunny day once again, but apparently not as optimistic as this lying little lobster boat in the fog. (Look closely at its name.)

Actually, this Fishing Vessel “Sun’s Up” is always a bright spot in Conary Cove for drivers traveling along the coast in the spring and summer – even when it’s foggy there. Her uncommon yellow hull always stands out. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on May 17, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Begin the Beautiful Begonia

We’ve been having a lot of fog and light rain lately that can darken our mood at times. But, it apparently has delighted these swaying begonias to near-revelry.

No, Cole Porter did not write a song about them. That’s “Begin the Beguine,” which is about dancing romantically to Latin music that originated in the French West Indies. However, these porch-dancing begonias also have a somewhat similar origin. They were discovered in Brazil in 1690 and named after the French botanist Michel Begon, according to the literature.

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on May 17, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Tiny Life Report IV

Talk about tiny!

This fellow has a wingspan well under an inch and is sipping from a bluet, one of our smallest flowers. He’s blue on top, gray underneath, and very fluttery. I’m guessing that he’s a northern azure (Calastrina lucia) or some other azure species. Since they reclassified the little azures into many species, I have more than my usual identification problems with small butterflies and moths.

Northern azures are residents here. They’re not only tiny, they’re short-lived and have to make the most of life to propagate their species. They apparently emerge from their chrysalises throughout the spring and summer, starting about mid-May. But, once out, they reportedly live only a week or two. Females are said to mate within hours of emerging – welcome to the Lycaenidae family!.  (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 11, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Floating

Above you see the WoodenBoat School pier as it appeared in Great Cove earlier this month. It’s a landmark on this part of the Down East coast. However, as with virtually all piers of this type, it’s incomplete until it’s docking float and aluminum gangway are reinstalled. They’re taken off for the winter. The gangway is stored atop the pier (look closely at the end of the pier), while the float is stored ashore in the WBS boat launching ramp.

On Wednesday (May14), this odd-looking creature appeared in the Cove:

It’s All Hutchins’ no-name workboat. Some call it the A.H. Marine Company float boat and others call it less flattering names. True, it’s not a graceful, gleaming vessel, but it is one of the most functional pieces of marine equipment you’ll find. No-name and her crew have a reputation for being among the best — if not the best — at removing and reinstalling floating docks. That’s an essential task here on the coast. Here they are Wednesday, starting to pull the large WBS docking float down the ramp and into the Cove:

Unfortunately, one of the floatation tubs under the docking float was damaged and Al and his crew had to fix it and postpone installing the float until yesterday (Thursday, May 15). Here you see them resuming dragging the float from its storage place and pushing it over to the pier yesterday:

The float has to be attached to the mooring chains that are bolted to the end granite pier pylon. Access to the chain hookups is through four wells on the float. The gangway is lifted off the pier and attached as a walkway down to the float. Then the float is cleaned with a broom and seawater:

Later in the day, as fog starts rolling in through the sun, The WBS pier is ready, willing, and able to serve students and the visiting public:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 8 [1st image], 14, and 15, 2025)

In the Right Place: O-Nest Report IV

Here you see our heroes who fought off and nearly killed a rogue male osprey who was trying to invade and steal their home last week. That’s Ozzie bringing Harriet a gift, while she appears to be horrified by his taste in furnishings. Ozzie got the hint and soon left to get Harriet a delicious fish:

Our happy homeowners had an unexciting week, which is a fabulous state of mind in osprey-land. However, I’m slightly concerned about them being behind schedule. They are still copulating regularly and Harriet does not spend all of her time in the nest. She stays upright in it and takes solo trips from the nest.  At this time last year, Harriet remained lying low in the nest laying eggs and then brooding.

Harriet does, however, often beg in her nest while Ozzie is away, which is a good sign she’s in a breeding mood:

It could be that the multi-day home invasion threw their schedule off. It also could be that this year will be one of those rarities when Ozzie and Harriet produce no little prehistoric-looking raptors. Stay tuned. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 13, 2025.)

In the Right Place: A Plum of a Moon

Here you see the May full moon sailing over Great Cove and Eggemoggin Reach at 3:06 a.m. yesterday morning. This month’s moon traditionally is called The Flower Moon in the Northern Hemisphere due to the many flowers that appear in May.

In fact, plum tree blossoms – among the most exquisite of flowers – were opening here when this moon appeared yesterday. Here’s a merger of photographs, taken hours apart, of that moon and those blossoms:

Why humans are attracted to the moon has been the subject of countless theories by artists, philosophers, and physical scientists. But I don’t think anyone has discovered the real reason(s). (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, May 13, 2024.)

In the Right Place: Nursery Rhyme Redux

Hickory dickory dock

The crane lifted the block

The clock struck one

The float was almost done

Hickory dickory dock

(Apologies to the prolific poet Anonymous for playing with her words.) Here you see a sign of the times: Brooklin’s floating dock system being re-installed yesterday in Naskeag Harbor next to the Town Dock. The expeditious installation by A.H. Marine, Inc., was finished by afternoon.

The float system was first installed last May and then taken ashore for the winter, as likely will happen this year. The system provides a needed area for tying up the small boats used by lobster fishermen to get to and from their vessels in the Harbor as well as for tying up the boats of visitors.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 12, 2025.)

In the Right Place: Tiny Lives Report IV

Here we have one of those delightful little beings who is heard more than seen. He is, after all, always drably dressed and only about 6 inches long. Yet, what a talented performer he is! He can make your day when you wake up to his song, or go to bed to his song, or walk with his song wafting in a fresh breeze, or get plinked by raindrops as he sings on a wet day.

He’s the aptly named song sparrow and he sings virtually all the time. His melodic nature was recognized in Latin by scholars who gave his species the scientific name Melospiza melodia. Even his slightly smaller mate sings, but not as frequently. It’s a musical family.

It's impossible to accurately describe the song sparrow’s theme song, the one  that we hear all summer. Forbush gave up and used Henry David Thoreau’s report of how “country people” described the song: “Maids! Maids! Maids! Hang up your teakettle-ettle-ettle” -- with the first three notes long but brisk and the last notes run together quickly. That does not nearly do this Top 10 Tune on the Bird Billboard justice.

And, this meister singer is not just a soloist. He’s been reported to come close and harmonize to the sound of music heard through an open window from a piano or radio. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine on April 23 and May 8, 2025.)

In the Right Place: To Our Mothers!

There’s nothing more important than motherhood in its fullest sense for us and the many other beings who are born needing life’s primal necessity, nurturing.

Perhaps, there’s also nothing more beatific than a quietly proud mother nurturing her young well.

Happy Mothers’ Day! (Leighton Archive images taken in Brooklin, Maine.)

In the Right Place: Furry Projections Department

Here’s a bit of a rarity: a North American river otter in repose. Usually, these otters are furry perpetual motion machines.

When he sensed me sneaking up on him, this guy turned my way, flared his mustache in distain – click! – and disappeared into the pond with a long, lithe “slurp.” I sat down and waited for half an hour and he never popped up. (There are burrows with underwater entrances all around the pond; he probably went back to sleep in one of them.)

I’m assuming that this otter is a male because it's about the end of mating season for his kind and I’d like to believe that he’s tuckered out from wandering from pond to pond and mating uproariously with all the females he could find. (Hope that’s not too much psychological projection on my part.)

(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on May 8, 2025.)