In the Right Place: WoodenBoat in Winter

The 64-acre WoodenBoat campus seems to be asleep in winter, especially to those of us who know its summer energy, creativity, and bustle. The campus was originally developed in 1916 as a prosperous family estate and bought by Jon Wilson’s WoodenBoat Publications in 1980.

The WoodenBoat Publications building in winter, shown above, usually contains a few people working during business hours on their renowned maritime-oriented publications. Storekeepers also usually are active on weekdays in the WoodenBoat Store, shown below, which reportedly sells most of its popular WoodenBoat-branded materials and related items online.

The separate (but related) WoodenBoat School, established by Jon in 1981, is the reason for most of the summer activity on the campus. It offers unique, hands-on courses in wooden boat building, design, blacksmithing, seamanship and many other maritime-related activities. 

The big brick WBS Workshop (aka Boat Shop),shown above, is not active in winter. This old horse stable now houses classrooms for many of the courses. The historic white house to the left of the Boat Shop in the image is “The Farmhouse.” It originally was “home” for caretakers of the original estate; now, it’s one of the buildings where WBS students lodge.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 1 and 2, 2026.) Click on the images to enlarge them.

In the Right Place: March, Don’t Run

March, the bringer of spring, arrived yesterday and made it clear that she was not yet in shape to present spring to us. She still had the winter chills and suffered an insignificant bout of snow in the morning. Fortunately, she sunned up and, by afternoon, she was able to deliver a golden hour worthy of a new month.

Fortunately, I was walking along Hope Lane then, where I could watch the shadows of afternoon growing long and catch a peek of the seemingly falling sun.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on March 1, 2026.)

February Postcards From Down East Maine

February is our shortest month, but this February also may have been our snowiest month of the winter. The month included our first blizzard of the year, which arrived in swirls of snowflakes being tormented by high-speed wind gusts. It looked like we were in a white dust storm, as you can see from this usually tranquil view of Conary Cove during what probably will become known as The Blizzard of ‘26:

Between snowstorms, we had interludes of classic winter weather that restored tranquil beauty to Conary Cove and the other iconic scenes that we record monthly — the near-mountain called Blue Hill, the vista of Mount Desert Island from Amen Ridge in Brooklin, and the summer house on Harbor Island overlooking Naskeag Harbor:

The snows of February transformed the landscape, especially the trees and bushes, during and after snowfalls:

Sea ice cluttered our bays, except at the mouths of large streams where rushing fresh waters fought the ice:

Typical Down East structures — from old boat houses, to large colonial inns, to small worksheds, to connected houses — also seemed to vary their moods with the February weather:

As you may have noticed, the paved public roads were kept well plowed during February, as were the unpaved private lanes that led to residences:

The snow in the flora may have been beautiful, but the winter fauna struggled to find food in it. Our white-tailed deer had to browse at dusk and dawn on exposed buds and wooden growth and our porcupines had to become snowplows to get food:

Wild turkeys roamed the plowed roads rather than try to plod through deep snow, nocturnal barred owls were forced to hunt in the day in residential gardens because they couldn’t hear and catch their prey under the relatively deep snow in fields, and our tough seagulls often stayed huddled on sea ice.

On the waterfront, vessels that dragged for scallops or that were used by divers to hand-harvest them and sea urchins stayed in the cold water. Others were spending their winter “on the hard” in varying stages of dress, and still others were being transported naked from indoor storage to the Brooklin Boat Yard to be painted for the upcoming sailing season.

Of course, February 14 is Valentine’s Day. For the many Maine outdoor enthusiasts, some of our artistic residents carved coastal hearts out of sea ice and lit them up with candles at night. My monthly column in the Ellsworth American was about Valentine gifts and featured a composite image of some of them, and a Love Card shop suddenly popped up in Blue Hill. Also, Santa hung around so that we could celebrate the gifting times of Christmas and Valentines’s Day simultaneousy.

The various phases of the moon in February were at times extraordinary, especially the month’s full moon. It’s known traditionally as The Snow Moon, a title that certainly was apt this year:

February usually is the last month for spectacular, warm-colored winter sunsets and afterglows and this year’s month followed that tradition:

And so, we say good bye to February of 2026. However, we’re still having a wonderful time and wish you were here.

(All images in this post were taken in Down East Maine during February of 2026, except the composite images that related to Valentine’s Day and the moon, in which some Leighton Archives images were merged.)

In the Right Place: Want to See Red?

I’m giving you time to mark your calendars and get prepared, fellow lunar-tics: There will be an uncommon full lunar eclipse – a Blood Full Moon – visible from the United States on Tuesday, March 3. The next one will be in 2028. It probably will look like this one from a prior year:

The eclipse will be early in the morning and low in the western sky as the moon sets. Those on Eastern Standard Time reportedly will be able to see it in its full, blood red phase at a few minutes before and after 6 a.m. (The reddening/darkening, caused by the scattering of blue light waves, is scheduled to start at about 4:50 a.m.) The full eclipse will be very low in the sky and best seen over the ocean. The image shown here is a composite image from the Leighton Archives.

In the Right Place: Sunlight Becomes You

Sunlight becomes working boats, even when they’re not working. Here you see ALL-IN being struck by a sun ray in Naskeag Harbor. She’s flying an international diving flag, but I’m not sure whether she’s a platform for scallop or sea urchin diving.

Bleow, you’ll see the mummified commercial vessels in the Surry wharf area soaking up the rays:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 24 [water] and in Surry, Maine, on February 11 [land], 2026.)

In the Right Place: Mountaineering

We had more snow yesterday. February may be our shortest month, but it may prove to be our snowiest month this year. Our driveway has been plowed so many times that our faithful plow trucker has been having trouble finding space to put all the cleared snow.

Moreover, all the plowing on the roads around here has created mini-mountain ranges of snow along many roadsides. As you see here, these sometimes are higher than a wild turkey’s eye and sometimes induce these birds to walk along the roads to avoid mountain climbing:

(Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 24, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Interludes

We’re about to get more snow, but we’ve been lucky so far. The sunny scenes of new snow in the interludes between snowstorms have almost been worth the inconvenience that the winds and white stuff cause.  

By the time that the Blizzard of ’26 got here on the Down East coast, it seemed like a lumbering giant who had already spent his dangerous rage and had decided to make amends with more of an act of beautification than of devastation. My heart goes out to those who had to suffer the uncontrolled rage. We were fortunate, as we often are.

When the sun greeted the Blizzard’s new snow yesterday, a beautiful tranquility was restored. Below, you’ll see the long view to Mount Desert Island from Brooklin’s Amen Ridge. yesterday, as well as the scene (and perhaps the sense) of what it was like in a stand of spruce trees with dappled new snow all around.

But, of course, we now have to worry about what this afternoon’s predicted snowstorm’s mood will be. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 24, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Phew!

All’s calm on the eastern coast, everybody; thanks for the thoughts. It looks like we sidestepped the biggest punches of the Blizzard of ’26. The snowflakes were very fine and blew wildly around in gusty winds like a white dust storm. We lost power for less than an hour and our generator made sure that we were not inconvenienced.

The National Weather Service reported that snow accumulation in our Hancock County due to the blizzard ranged from 6.6 to 3.6 inches. Judging from what I can see around the house, we were at the lowest end of that range on the Brooklin coast.

Barbara and I got caught in Blue Hill when the snow started falling yesterday at about 11 a.m. and couldn’t leave there until 11:25. The visibility driving was terrible then; we crept home and praised our old all-wheel-drive car. These images of Conary Cove here weres taken at about 11:30 a.m. on our way back to Brooklin:

Compare those to this image taken early in February:

By the way, as you may know, a “blizzard” is officially defined by the National Weather Service by wind and visibility, not snow accumulation. More specifically, a “blizzard” is a severe storm with sustained winds or frequent gusts of 35 mph or greater, accompanied by considerable falling or blowing snow that reduces visibility to 1/4 mile or less for at least three consecutive hours.

(Images taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on February 2 [sun] and 23 [snow], 2026.)

In the Right Place: Bracing and Ducking

We’re bracing for the mother of all snowstorms, which is supposed to hit later this morning. The nor’ east wind here already is up to 24 mph as I write, and I’m wondering how the local common eiders, our largest native ducks, will fare today and tomorrow.

These birds, shown feeding here recently, are ever-diminishing attendees of the annual winter convention of common eiders at the Blue Hill Reversing Falls. A decade or so ago, close to a thousand eiders would dine in the cold, turbulent waters there in the winter. They would pluck blue mussels off rocks like grapes and gobble them whole; they’d also dive for other mollusks, starfish, and crabs. The fast-rushing waters at the Falls are virtually never frozen over.

The mussels are gone from most of our coastline now due to environmental factors and the birds’ voracious appetites. The eiders’ other prey also have been dwindling – and, seemingly proportionately, so has the annual convention attendance. We’re lucky to see more 100 eiders in a group (a “paddling”) there in recent winters. (Image taken in Blue Hill, Maine, on February 10, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Magical Interlude

I’m getting tired of being snowed upon and I’m definitely not looking forward to the “significant snowfall” predicted for here tomorrow.

However, I have to admit that Maine put on one of her most magical winter performances here yesterday when the snow stopped falling, the sun appeared big and strong in a bold blue sky and lit up the crystalized landscapes – all in cold, clear air that seemed drinkable.

Above, you see our North Field yesterday, with her snowy slopes sliding down to Great Cove. Below,, you’ll see the mouth of Patten Stream at ebb tide yesterday, as its flowing fresh waters hold off the sea ice from totally closing-in Patten Bay:

(Images taken in Brooklin and Surry, Maine, on February 21, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Spiny but Tasty

It looks like we got about 2 inches of new snow overnight here on the coast, but I’m trying my best to ignore it – too much of a good thing is becoming an annoying thing. Above is an image of Naskeag Harbor on very sunny Thursday. That’s MAYDELIN with her international diving flag hoisted in the left corner of that image.

We’re at the peak of Maine’s green sea urchin season when the spiny little cousins of starfish are mostly hand-harvested by divers in wetsuits and underwater breathing gear. (A few harvesters reportedly use small “drags” [dredges] to scoop them up.) Judging from her flag, MAYDELIN apparently is a diving vessel that other vessels must give wide berth to.

The green sea urchin (Strongylocentrotus droebachiensis) is a cold-water delicacy that’s loved by many for its bright yellow/orange reproductive organs, known as uni, which reportedly have a sweet, creamy, and intensely briny "ocean butter" flavor. They’re apparently enjoyed raw by many as sushi/sashimi or cooked with pasta or eggs. (Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 19, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Slivered

As my fellow lunatics know, the moon is in the early stages of gaining sunlight (“waxing”) now and is showing slivered crescents in the West shortly after sunset. Below, you’ll see last night’s waxing crescent moon over Great Cove at 5:37 p.m. It was at about 10 percent lunar illumination.

The next major lunar phase will be the First Quarter moon on February 24, 2026, followed by the Full “Worm Moon” on March 3, 2026. (Image taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February19, 2026.)

In the Right Place: A Proud Daughter Returns

This is an unusual winter sight: BLACKFISH, a highly-regarded racing and cruising sailboat, is out of storage and on the move, apparently from Massachusetts. She was built here in the Brooklin Boat Yard in 2017 and is being transported back to her birthplace for a new paint and varnish job. She home ports in Nantucket. It was a joy to see her again.

BLACKFISH is well described in her WoodenBoat Profile: “While Blackfish has a modern keel, rudder and carbon fiber mast (faux painted [as wood]), designer Jim Taylor is proud that she accomplishes what she was specified to do and be: drop-dead gorgeous above and a race boat below.”

Here’s her data for you serious sailors: BLACKFISH’S length overall is 49’ and she’s 35’2” at the waterline, with a beam (widest part) of 11’7” and a weight of 16,600 pounds. She’s rigged as a sloop and has a sail area of 973 sq. ft. Her engine is a 45 hp Yanmar diesel. She races in the Spirit of Tradition Class and reportedly clubs at the New York Yacht Club.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 17, 2025.)

In the Right Place: (Snowy) Form Follows Function

This post about three distinctive structures is the last of our Fantastic February Snow series. Here are the virtually imperceptible final flakes of the February 10-11 snowstorm falling on “The Lookout”; It’s an operational inn with parts built in the 18th and 19th centuries:

Below you’ll see an image taken as the snowfall was breaking up and the sky turning blue; it’s a residence that was built in 1899 and appears to be in the American Four-Square Arts and Crafts style:

Finally, as a bonus, here’s an image of a large New England connected residence of unknown age; the image was taken on the last sunny day before the February 10-11 snowstorm started.:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 11 and 8 [connected house], 2026.) Click on the images to enlarge them.

In the Right Place: Enchanted Country Lanes

Continuing with our Fantastic February Snow series: Snowfalls can enchant the many private lanes that lead to hidden driveways of really hidden coastal residences here, and these lanes look good even after they’re plowed. Most seemed to be plowed almost immediately after a snowfall and sometimes during it. The images here are all from Hope Lane.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 11, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Split Personalities

Continuing with our Fantastic February Snow series: A good snow seems to bring out the personalities of trees. Above you see the noble young spruce. Below, you’ll the caring old Camperdown elm and the tormented old weeping beech.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 11, 2026.) Click on the images to enlarge them.

In the Right Place: Red, White and Cold

Continuing with our Fantastic February Snow series: Above and below are old red barns that have been converted into new living spaces and that look great in snow.

Below, you’ll see a hot seat (color-wise) in a cold place.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 11 and in Surry, Maine, [chair] on February 12, 2026.)

In the Right Place: Valentine Visitor

This handsome fellow paid us a visit on Valentine’s Day yesterday, but it wasn’t an act of love. He’s a barred owl, our only black-eyed owl. Owls his size (up to about two feet long) and smaller ones struggle to hunt in crusty/icy snow of the type that still blankets most of the land here.

This shy raptor apparently has been forced to take risks by not only hunting during the day, but by hunting in a garden near our house in bright sunlight where his movements caught Barbara’s eye as she glanced through a window. (“Dick, you’ll want to see this!”)

He looked thin and his impatient flitting from perch to perch indicated that he might have been desperately hungry. (Most owls that I’ve known sit Buddha-like on their perch during the day, only slowly moving their heads. They see more people than people see them.)

Barred owls can hear voles and other small mammals in their frozen tunnels up to two feet under light snow. However, a thick crust of ice or excessive snow depth apparently makes capturing their prey virtually impossible.

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 14, 2024; sex assumed.)

In the Right Place: Snowy Boats and Pre-Boats

Continuing with our Fantastic February Snowfall series,above you see ALL-IN; she remains all in the waters of Naskeag Harbor. Below, you’ll see SHERRY-ANNE II and two friends who are not all in the water, but are “on the hard” at the Atlantic Boat Company:

Also at ABC was what appears to be a 38-foot hull mold, perhaps a form for building a Duffy or Blue Hill Marine-style lobster boat:

(Images taken in Brooklin, Maine, on February 11, 2026.) Click on the images to enlarge them.

In the Right Place: The Pending Question