[dropcap letter=”W”]ish you lived here? We can’t blame you. If you were to get any closer to the water, you’d be on a houseboat. You’re standing (virtually speaking) on the western shore of a headland in a town where lobstermen make up a third of the labor force. They keep their boats in a long, narrow harbor just down the road, where you’ll also find the village — a string of tidy, modest homes, two churches, a fire station, the town office, and little else. The headland protects a small bay that shares part of its name with several other waterways and two towns (the word they share means “bad little falls” in Passamaquoddy). Turn west and look across the bay to see a cluster of antenna towers — 26 in all — rising from the grasslands on the opposite shore. The delicate-looking towers compose one of the world’s most powerful radio transmission stations, sending signals to Navy ships and submarines in the North Atlantic and Arctic oceans. That’s about as exotic as the architecture gets. The town’s remoteness and conservation ethic — more than two-thirds of its 47 square miles are protected — have kept McMansions away, and the only lodging is a light-keeper’s house on an island in the harbor where guests are lulled to sleep by crashing waves and the moan of the fog horn every 10 seconds.
❯❯If you recognize this town, submit your answer below. We’ll feature our favorite letter in an upcoming issue — and send the winner a Down East wall calendar.