Living on an unbridged island isn't always easy. There are many times when I question my choice of living here. When I go grocery shopping, for instance. First we load the groceries from the shopping cart into the trunk of the car. Then we unload the groceries from the trunk to the float on the mainland. Then we load the groceries onto the boat and zip across the water to the other float waiting at the island. There we unload the groceries and lug them up the ramp or the stairs to the shed on the dock where we set them down to wait for the truck. After hauling all of the groceries to their resting spot in the shed, we run up the dock to the truck waiting for us in the parking lot, back the truck down the dock and load the groceries into the truck, once again. Finally, we drive up the small gradual hill to the school and arrive at the path to the apartment where we unload the groceries for the final time and haul them up the stairs to the apartment to be put away. This is one example of the additional complexities living on an island presents to the otherwise mundane qualities of life and, yeah--I admit--there are times when I would much rather live on the mainland and just forget those complexities all together. That is when a little perspective is oh so useful.
I just returned from a field trip to Matinicus Island. This island is 23 miles away from the mainland. It is so far from the mainland that the mountains of Mt. Desert Island are just a little blur in the distance. And do you want to know how they get their groceries there? They have them flown in by plane! By plane!
Matinicus is a beautiful island. It's much higher than Islesford so that when walking down the road in the middle of the island, you feel like you are above the water, even when the water is hidden behind trees. The roads there are all dirt and the houses are spaced apart so that the feeling is of being out in the country. Yes, they have electricity and running water, and yes, the people live normal modern lives. They're just living their lives on a beautiful island way out in the ocean.
On our second day on Matinicus, I got to go on a hike. Several adults and a few middle school-age students signed up for the activity. Led by a friend from Matinicus, We took the Matinicus trail through the woods to the rocky shore. When we came out of the woods, we were standing up above the water on a small rocky cliff. The water was crashing on the rocks below. Out before us there was nothing but open ocean, but to each side you could see the silhouettes of other islands, including Criehaven. I was especially excited to put my eyes on Criehaven. Seeing that island took me back to the summer of my wedding when I was reading the Elizabeth Ogilvie Tide Trilogy and falling more and more in love with my island home.
At the shore we turned left and followed the rocky edge around the island to South Sandy Beach. This beach is unlike anything we have here. Over time the water has carved out a cove, and instead of the cove being filled with tumbled rocks, it is covered with fine sand. Our guide told us that in the winter the ocean sweeps the sand out to sea, but it always returns in the spring time. I wondered at the power and promise of the ocean, just as I wonder about it when I walk our shoreline.
It was during our return trip home yesterday when I gained a better appreciation of living year-round on Matinicus island. After enjoying two nights and three days of warm hospitality, tons of fun, great food and good friends, we boarded a boat and began our return trip home. This boat was larger than a lobster boat, but not by much. It had some tripod-like rigging on the top of the boat that made me think it might serve as a scallop dragger during some time of the year, but other than that there was not much sign of it being a working boat. There was seating both in the large cabin and out back. I sat out back with my two middle schoolers, the teacher from Monhegan Island and her two students, and the teacher from Matinicus and her two children. The ride was thrilling. The sun was shining brightly and I felt my face being slightly burned, but I didn't care! As we pulled out of the harbor and began to head for open water, the captain increased speed until we were bouncing along with the waves. After 20 minutes or so Matinicus island was nothing but a dark line on the horizon and I couldn't see land in any direction (at least from where I was sitting). The boat rocked back and forth in the waves, and sometimes the water seemed to be above us! The spray was hitting the side of the boat and splashing us on our backs, but that bright sun kept us comfortably warm.
It was then, when we were in that big water, moving as quickly as I remember ever moving in a large boat, with no land in sight that I began to gain some perspective. If our mail boat moved as quickly as that boat was moving and didn't have to stop at one, sometimes two other islands, we would be to the mainland in less than 15 minutes. Yesterday, making no stops and moving as quickly as the boat could safely go, it took us an hour and a half to ride from Matinicus to Rockland Harbor. Sitting on the boat, enjoying the roller coaster feeling of the waves, and watching the smiling faces of the people sitting with me, the complexities I face living just three miles from shore seemed silly, and I found renewed gratefulness and love for the island that I landed on seven years ago. A little perspective is so refreshing!
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