Maine - Lobster Cove and return from Monhegan Island

We had been warned that there was no heat in the apartments and it was the coldest night so far. We couldn't actually see our breath in the morning but nearly. Very nippy. We packed up, left our luggage in the hallway (feeling it was a pretty crime-free place) and set out for a walk before we had to take the ferry home again, at 12:30.

The village store from my bedroom window.

The lighthouse in the morning light.

The harbour and the island on the other side, many of the boats out lobstering in the morning.

I walked down to "fish beach" , gravelly, sea weedy with a strong smell of sea and fish.

Heather fell in love with the house next door

So many windows and lots of gulls on the roof.

Great place to dry the laundry.

We had watched them harvesting the pumpkins from the community garden the day before.

It had been a good year for garlic and we spoke to a woman who was preparing these to sell at the community market.

We walked through the village and on to a trail to Lobster Cove.

"Painfully Picturesque",

a picture at every turn.

Another house for Heather to fall in love with - "If I win the lottery".

Lobster Cove, from here we looked out across the Atlantic

and at the wreck.

We clambered on the rocks,

checked out the wreck,

watched the lobster fishermen (the metal protection on the side of the boat is were they drag the pots up, throw back the small lobsters, keep the bigger ones, re-bait and drop the pot back over the side)

and enjoyed just staring out to sea.

I sat and did a quick sketch of the wreck.

Blue jays were checking out the chicken feed

as we headed back to pick up our bags and go to the ferry dock.

Elaborate cedar shingling and

an interesting shadow on the curtains.

Here she comes

loaded down with cargo for the islanders; gravel, wood, food and water.

The unloading took a long time but the sun was shining and there were lots of photo ops.

The ride back wasn't as exhilarating as the ride out had been, but fresh and scenic.

This little diving bird was in Port Clyde when we docked. We think he is a Black Guillemot (in winter plumage)

Heather and Don have sent me some pictures of myself, to prove I was actually in Maine. This one is by Heather of Judy and I both trying to avoid having our pictures taken. Drinking wine on the balcony on Monhegan Island as the sun set.