Our Maine adventure continues…

Day 5 on Lower Goose Island 

Today, Luke was on his way to spend the Labor Day weekend with us – Yay, more of the Lawrence crew! Since he lives in Boston, he left super early and made great time.

While Robin and Scott headed out to grab him from the main land, Mike and I kayaked around Lower Goose, heading counter-clockwise, towards the Goslings. The tide was going out, and the back side of the island had a number of boats docked, supposedly a party spot. We pulled up to a small beach to check the shore out, but it was a protected area for birds, so we headed out, passing the Dugas’s, our neighbors to the east.

We would take a property path hike to his compound later that afternoon and what he had created was nothing short of incredible. Paths that were covered in wood chips, there were no piles of fallen trees, as they had been put in the wood chipper. His home had solar power, built only several years ago, not several decades. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love our rustic cabins. But when we strolled past his cabins and peaked in the window at the gorgeous wood, bright and cheery kitchen with what looked like butcher block counters, it was hard not to get cabin envy.

The afternoon was spent continuing camp closing, taking down and scrubbing our gutters, storing pots and pans up in the crawl space in the kitchen, and cleaning. We were going to get lobsters and steamers that evening, so most of the crew headed out on the boat to grab lobsters.

Robin stayed back to enjoy the quiet, something that was truly unique to our precious island. We zipped around to the backside of the island, to a very bare bones, but awesome lobster joint where we got lots of good lobster and some steamers.

The guys decided to tackle the brush situation that was trickling down the side of the hill onto the beach. As trees and branches fall, or chopped down due to rot, they’re just thrown onto the pile, awaiting a good old fashion bon fire. Which is exactly what happened!

Beers were cracked and the flames flew! My Uncle Scott ended up getting attacked by a bee hive that the guys had been trying to pull into the fire, and he fell down the hill, thankfully not getting injured.

That evening we feasted inside, as the winds had changed suddenly, so it was a bit gusty and had even cooled off quite a bit. After the feast we shot some of the firecracker mortars my dad had left. A great day, filled with everything glorious Maine has to offer!

Day 6 on Lower Goose Island

The next day we woke, had a big pancake breakfast with fresh blueberry jelly my cousin had made. Fuel for the day, which was filled with more closing fun. That afternoon, we headed to Dolphin’s Marina to have a delicious lunch, gorgeous cocktails and a lovely day at sea.

Luke had to head back to Boston afterwards, so they dropped us off and we scooted around the kayak before putting it up for the winter. It was a beautiful afternoon, the grey coast of Maine whooshing by with each paddle. After our spin, we carried the kayak up and put it in the basement for the winter. Robin and Scott came back, so we hung on the porch, as the weather had turned a bit drizzly. That evening, since we had had such a late and big lunch, we munched on cheese, veggies and drank good wine. It was our last evening on the porch, so we savored it!

Day 7 on Lower Goose Island  

The sun rose on our last day in Maine and I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad, although we had had a wonderful time on the island. We spent the last day packing, sweeping our cabin, taking our shutters down, and closing up more of the main cabin. Even though the day was grey, it still held such beauty. Maine has been ingrained in my memory since I was young, and every year I get to spend time on the island, it become a more a part of me. Knowing we had to leave and I’d not set foot on the island’s soil for a full year had me a bit sad, but we had had an amazing trip, full of adventure, history (my Uncle Ted had written a biography that I read during the rainy afternoon), work, and beauty. As the Goosecraft, the boat named after my poppa, carried us back to the mainland, I waved goodbye to camp Lawrence and couldn’t wait to get back next year.