Sea Glass and Scrap Iron Blog Archive 2008

Internet, Television, and other Magic


We were watching a program on Maine Public Television that showed footage of a hydroelectric dam on the Saco River. My television-watching buddy, who had once been a Central Maine Power Company substation repairman, recognized it.

"Cataract," he said. "You can't make power at high tide. The tail race fills up."

"It's tidal that far up?" I asked, this being typical of the sort of idle conversation in my kitchen.

"It's tidal that far up."

Then, a moment later: "It's just

Waitangi Day


The word happily goes around the island each time the Sunbeam is in, tied up alongside the Steamboat Wharf. People begin wandering down aboard for a cup of coffee or a look at what Felicia's got there on the counter for cakes and cookies; perhaps Mike the captain has made a gingerbread again. It beats just collecting your mail and heading directly back to the woodpile or the laundry or the paperwork.

The Sunbeam has been coming to Matinicus and to many of the other islands

Telephone Tale


Phone Box

Perhaps you live where cell phones work just fine.

Bury-the-Hatchet Day (Part 2)


By mid-December nearly everybody on Matinicus Island is concerned with one of two things; Christmas plans, or getting the heck out of here. The weather forecast is the 500-pound purple gorilla in the living room, the sword of Damocles, and is the perpetual footnote, caveat, or disclaimer attached to everything. Quite a few of the guys are taking up traps; many haul out completely and go away for a couple of months. It makes sense to get the boat hauled out, maybe get some work done, protect the aging

A Bit Like Old Times Around Here (Part 1)


Should I suppose you would want to read about an island Christmas? It is not my intention to pour on the romance and the syrup, and the holidays, so-called, may be called over (to some people's great relief) and besides, steely industry and swashbuckling anarchy is generally more engaging.

As I write, it is New Year's Eve. Can it still be that the celebrations of a tiny isolated community remain of interest to anybody? Certainly, on an island, there are no last-minute trips to "the mall" (that