#31 Lighthouses - Coastal Maine

I can't explain the allure of lighthouses, but at once I am thrilled at just the quaint beauty of them. The history of lighthouses is romanticized, so I won't add to that, but the job of lighthouse keeper meant saving lives and ships, and that was often difficult and dangerous. The lights are inextricably tied to the sea which heightened our sense of adventure. On windy and overcast days, we watched as the waves rolled and lapped against the rocky cliffs. Our minds took us back in time, and we had great respect for the sea and for the sailors who plied them.

The Portland Head Light, (above) ordered by George Washington, is Maine's oldest light.

I think the biggest misconception, and therefore disappointment, for us was the notion that we could enter the lighthouses and climb to the top. We wanted to see what the keepers saw and get a feel for life in a vertical home. While we could get closer to some than others, public access was denied. Visitors would cause more wear than the sea ever could, perhaps. Our friends who live in Maine took us to Cape Neddick Light, (l) which seems to be everyone's favorite. They have a beautiful painting of it in their home. Here, we were separated from the light by the water. Industrious keepers had rigged a cable and bucket that carried supplies over to the light.

A side trip to Kennebunkport led us to Walker Point and the Bush Compound. The town has set in place a small plaque that reads in part, "An Anchor to Windward, for our friend and 41st President." To the left was a gatehouse and lots of black SUV's, which could only mean the presence of the secret service.  

We drove through Acadia National Park land to reach Mt. Desert Island and the Bass Harbor Head Light. Built in 1858, it is 56 feet above mean high water. This, of course, meant we had to climb quite a few stairs to reach this spot. It's near Bar Harbor, another beautiful coastal town that we visited.

From Cape Neddick to Mount Desert Island we followed the Maine coastline viewing lighthouses. Interspersed with that, of course, were beautiful waters (Penobscot Bay, Atlantic), Acadia forest, mountains, and national park, fields, and harbors. We had never seen "Oreo" cows before; these were near Camden, ME.

At York Beach we traveled on roads which separated the summer houses from the rocky cliffs. The waves had overshot the rocks and the road, depositing debris onto the porches. That was a bit close for my comfort. In the relative calm of a fall day, it was easy for us to forget the reality of Maine's harsh winters and how lives and livlihoods depend on the weather. The day we left to return home, the season's first "nor'easter" blew in and followed us most of the way to Boston. At left, a house at York Beach trimmed with birdhouses. Maine's lighthouses are as varied as its coast; each is unique in having its own story to tell.