Blog on Hiatus

My digs while in Maine

The point at Sandy Beach

This blog spot and this writer will be on vacation July 31-August 10. Meanwhile, enjoy all the archive stories you may have missed.

I hope to see you at the Blog Picnic in the South End on August 8. (See “2^nd Annual Blog Picnic at Sandy Beach” for details.) Come around noontime and stay as long as you want. Hope for good weather.

If you don’t have any cool weather for me when I get there I may never leave Spruce Head. Order some for me, please.

You may also see me at the Rockland Public Library doing research for the Sea Goddess Pageant story I hope to do in the future.

Thank you all for hitting the ads on the right hand side of this blog space. Keep hitting them while I’m gone, O.K. and I promise to bring back some good stories for you.

Till then, see ya later!

Your blog host, Sandra Sylvester

Steps going down to Sandy Beach

Marching To Our Own Beat...in Washington, D.C.

The trip the Port O’ Rockland Junior Drum and Bugle Corps took in 1957 to Washington, D.C. to participate as the official musical unit from the State of Maine for the second inauguration parade for Dwight D. Eisenhower was a trip I will never forget.

This picture of our bus appeared in The Courier Gazette. Our families came to see all 52 of us off on the Friday before the parade. The temperature was near zero and stayed that way all the time we were in Washington. The mothers standing here are my mother, Evangeline, with the white hat on (remember these winter hats that tied under the chin?); then Mrs. Staples; then Mrs. Brewer, Arnold’s mother. I think my mother was talking to me through that back window.

Notice our new name on the side of the bus, “The Coastmen.” I believe this was an idea of Ralph Clark’s to better “brand us,” although they didn’t call it that then. Basically it was easier to say than Port O’ Rockland Drum and Bugle Corps. Actually they left the “Junior” off this time. I had forgetten this new name and I don’t think it really caught on. I usually just called it the drum corps or the Corps.

The signage on the bus was no doubt done by either our local famous artist, Eddie Harriman, who did all the window painting on Main Street for the Lobster Festival and at other times during the year. It could also have been done by Everett Blethen, The Courier Gazette’s cartoonist and artist. People knew where we were from for sure.

The trip down to Washington did not go smoothly. First of all, I think we were overloaded. We were about two or three seats shy of everyone being able to sit down. The bus had a step up in it and sometimes someone would stand on the step. There was also a small piece of board they put across the aisle for us to take turns sitting on. I don’t think I did. They put mostly boys in that spot and usually the smallest ones so there would be more breathing room.

Undoubtedly, the bus capacity would not have passed inspection today. I think we also had all the instruments and uniforms with us, so you can imagine. Plus, when we had only gone as far as Stamford, Connecticut, the bus broke down and we were stranded for over six hours in below zero weather while they fixed the braking system.  (No wonder the brakes gave out under all that load). We didn’t get to Washington till 10:00 a.m. Saturday morning, sleeping on the bus all the way down.

We stayed at the Hotel Plaza at First and D Street, N.E. facing the Capitol and Union Station and “the beautiful new terrace fountain” as the back of this post card says. The rooms we had were nothing fancy. I think we shared bathrooms. I remember bunk beds, maybe two bunks in a room or four corpsmen to a room. There may have been more.

It’s funny what sticks in your mind. I remember the nurse who came along with us. I think her first name was Paulette. She came around and asked each one of us if we’d had a bowel movement that day. She was prepared to give us an enema if necessary. She didn’t want to have to deal with stomach problems I guess.

As I mentioned at the beginning, our Corps was the official musical unit from our state. I believe each state was allowed only one. I think our senators choose who would participate. Our senators at that time were Frederick Payne, who also became Governor; and Margaret Chase Smith, a political favorite in Maine who served from 1949-1973. She had a lot of backers in Knox County and I believe it was probably her influence that put us in the parade. I do remember that we performed for her one time when she spoke at a town green somewhere in Maine. I remember her standing in a gazebo and we played for her.

We shared our floor in the hotel with the musical unit from Oklahoma. I don’t remember if they were a band or a drum corps. I remember them as being very boisterous and friendly in the Western way of things. They were excited to meet people from “way up there in Maine.”  They were from Blackwell, Oklahoma and as it happened they were celebrating their 50^th year of statehood that year. They gave us these handouts inviting us to attend their celebration.

Of course they have subsequently celebrated their 100^th anniversary in 2007. I wonder if any of the Oklahomans we met still lived in Blackwell then and celebrated the 100^th anniversary too.

We were given tours of the D.C. area including the Smithsonian Institute, the Capitol; and we toured the Pentagon, the largest office building in the world, the same day we marched in the three and a half mile parade. They give you a floor plan when you visit the Pentagon so you won’t get lost. Could you get through this maze?

Ticket to the Capitol Tour

Of all the monuments I saw on this trip and on my class trip in 1959, there were a few that were non-existent at that time, including: the JFK memorial and eternal flame at Arlington National Cemetery; the Vietnam War Memorial; and the Korean War Memorial. I would like to go back and pay my respects at those three monument sites some day.

The parade was on Monday. Saturday night, after we finally got to Washington and had a chance to rest a little, the hotel presented us with tickets to an Inaugural Festival show at the Uline Arena. To us this was a very big deal. Most of us had never seen any famous person in a live show. Heck, most us of had never been very far outside the State of Maine. Some of us may have been to the closest big city, Boston, but that was it.

Here’s the program for that show:

                                                                                                        

Performing that night  were: Pearl Bailey; Peter Lind Hayes and Mary Healy; The Toppers; Phil Silvers; Nora Kovach and Istvan Rabovsky; Dorothy Shay; Pat Boone; Abbott and Costello; Kathryn Grayson; Ray Bolger; Sally and Tony DeMarco; Gogi Grant; and Step Brothers. Fred Waring and the Pennsylvanians provided the music. Apollo Singing Club of Cincinnati and the Michigan State Glee Club also performed.

Out of all the stars performing that night, guess who I remembered the most? Pearl Bailey!  She sang her signature song, “Won’t you come home, Bill Bailey.” She was electrifying and really had a terrific stage presence. We were very close to the stage too and we got to be up close and personal with everyone on stage. What a thrill that night was for us. Thank you Hotel Plaza.

On Sunday morning we were given cab rides to area churches. I attended the biggest church I had ever seen, Metropolitan Baptist Church at Sixth and A Streets, N.E. It was quite a service. We sang three hymns; the “Sanctuary Choir” sang an anthem “Now Let Heaven and Earth Adore Thee” by Bach; The organist played two numbers. The sermon that day was “Not to Destroy But to Fulfill.” I don’t remember what that was all about, whether it referred to us personally or the country’s leaders at that time.

Monday morning arrives at last and after we toured the Pentagon we got fitted out and then formed up for the parade. We formed up at 1:30 and were held in line till 4:00 before we actually got into the line of march.

They separated the Corps from the Color Guard which was very disconcerting to us in the Color Guard. I never understood the reasoning behind this move until I reread the news clipping I have covering the parade. Evidently we were separated so that the President would not have to salute the color guard of each marching unit as they went by his viewing stand.

So besides a feeling of being disjointed as we headed up the Fifth Division of the parade, we realized that we would have no music behind us to keep the beat for us. Consequently, Joanne Grispi, our leader, had to “hut hut” us the whole 31/2 miles of the parade route. I do remember being on the outside of our line, closest to the viewing stand, carrying a sword, and being able to see the top of Eisenhower’s bald head as we turned our heads in salute as we marched by.

It was bitterly cold that January day. We were all used to marching in the summer. Our season ended about the time school started again. We in the Color Guard were in skirts, white boots, and long-sleeved shirts that were of a satiny material. Not very warm clothing. The Corps itself had to contend with very cold bugle mouthpieces and drum heads that had to be tightened up as we still used skins then, I believe.

We managed to get through it all, however, being the troopers we were. The worst part about the marching surface was the trolley tracks in the middle of the street we had to try to avoid while trying to keep our heads up and looking straight ahead in the military fashion. It was not fun; however, we were all still thrilled to be a part of all the doings in Washington that day. It would be a story we could hand down to our grandchildren and the coming generations…like I’m doing right now.

Here are the pictures, captured from the television, of “The Coastmen” as we marched. The Color Guard is not included.

Our Drum Majors, Linda Ladd, Assistant Captain; and June Grant, Captain of the Corps

The Corps marching past  the President's viewing stand.

Tuesday morning, after the parade, we toured the Capitol, bought souvenirs, and got onto the bus at about 1:30 for our 19 hour-ride home. The bus didn’t break down this time.

We arrived home Wednesday at 8:30 am to the cheers of all our family members who were waiting for the bus. As the news article said, we were “exhausted but delighted with their experience in taking part in the nation’s greatest spectacle, the inauguration of a president.” That about sums it up.

Thanks for listening.

Marching To Our Own Beat

In 1952 a new musical group was formed in Rockland. It was called the Port ‘O Rockland Junior Drum and Bugle Corps. I joined the group early on as a young eleven-year-old baton twirler in the majorette squad.

Sponsored by the VFW, the Corps was headed by Ralph Clark. He was our very own Harold Hill, a character in the musical “Music Man,” played by Robert Preston. Although Harold was much more flamboyant than Ralph, he nevertheless created the same spirit of togetherness and fun that Harold did. Ralph inspired us to be our best; to strive for perfection no matter what our role in the Corps was.

I say Corps because we did have a rather long name and it was just easier to say the Corps or the Drum Corps. We eventually had another name, which I’ll go into later in another blog.

Throughout my career in the Corps I was first a majorette; then a member of the drill team; then a snare drummer; then a sword carrier in the Color Guard. I believe our colors were first black and gold before we switched to maroon and black and white. The proudest pieces of my uniform were first those white cowgirl style boots I wore as a majorette and later as a member of the Color Guard; and the Shako (not sure if the spelling is correct) which replaced the old black WWII style helmets we wore.

During the winter we met about once a week up over a business on Main Street. I can’t remember which one. There was floor space enough for us to practice marching formations as taught to us by Ralph. I’m amazed that that old wooden floor held up under our in sync marching feet. In the spring we’d sometimes practice at the Public Landing or at one of the school ball fields.

My drumming instructor was Maurice Miller. I went to his house and he showed me the proper way to hold my sticks and how a cadence worked. I had a small platform with a piece of rubber on it we called the practice pad. I learned all the cadences we used in the Corps and how to do a drum roll. I must admit, my roll was not the best, but I tried.

As the Corps grew, so did its reputation. It was quite a change from the local high school bands to our high-stepping, fast-paced, military-style cadence as we marched down the street. We were precise and usually in step. If we weren’t in step we quickly learned how to double step to change into the correct step. Our lines were straight and we made square corners when we had to turn. We usually got groans from older marchers who had to keep up with us if we were providing their music for them.

We were eventually asked to march in many state parades. We also participated in drum corps competitions throughout the state. What I remember most about these trips are the hills. Maine has a heck of a lot of hills in their downtown areas. I think I’ve marched up and down every one of them. When I was carrying a drum up one of them on a hot day in long woolen pants and long sleeves as well as a cumberbund and a shako, it was not always fun.

In fact, we often had members passing out along the way, especially the drum majors. They had to keep up the beat for all of us and perform all along the route. We used to try to guess how long it would take June Grant to pass out this time.

We had a lot of fun though. It was good clean fun and belonging to the corps was an honor to most of us. We got to go on road trips and see a lot of Maine along the way. When I participated, the highlight of belonging to the Corps came when we went to Washington, D.C. to march in the second inauguration of President Eisenhower in 1957. That trip will be reported in detail in next week’s blog. Meanwhile, if any of you former Corps members are reading this, I would love to hear from you and to hear your own story of participation.

Do you see yourself in this picture?

This was one of our early end-of-the-year banquets. Over 100 people attended this one. From left to right in the first row is Wesley Nichols, Kathy Vasso, Linda Morey, Gerry Call, Kathy Henderson, Drucilla Martin, and me. Second row: Arnold Brewer, Sylvia Noyes, Gertrude Henderson, Linda Barrows, Bob Garrison, Louise Ames, Jon Call and Ralph Clark. Third row: Linda Ladd, George Graves, June Grant, Pat Achorn, Joanne Grispi, Alan Ames and James Sevon.

The trophy was presented to Pat Achorn, a tenor drummer, then 21 years old, who had aged out of the Corps. She did play later on when only the Color Guard existed. The plaque Pat received acknowledged her outstanding qualities of character, leadership and service.

We all received some kind of recognition that night. The boys got clasps and the girls, medallions. I don’t have mine anymore. At that time we had 10 drummers, 20 buglers, 12 color guard members, a guidon squad of 10 and two drum majors. I assume the guidon squad was the drill team, which I think I belonged to at that time.

I apologize to all of you who were members as far as memories of the Corps goes. After all it was 59 years ago when it was formed. I do have one question for you though which I hope someone can answer. Didn’t we have a drummer by the name of Jimmy Faverill (not sure of the spelling) who all the girls had a crush on? He’s not in this picture, so he may have joined later or have been sick the night of this banquet. I may be thinking of James Sevon in the back row, who was also not bad to look at. Anybody remember?

Thanks for listening.

Outsider Views

This blog is a new feature. It interests me what other people from “outside our community” or “from away” think of the midcoast area and its people. David Lyon grew up in Maine so he has a different point of view than pure “out-of-staters” do. His comments come from the Maine Lobster Festival Site as printed in the Boston Globe. I will call this blog “Outsider Views.” I will post new comments as I come upon them.

From the Boston Globe, June 5, 2011

By David Lyon

I count myself lucky that it has been years since I rose before dawn to scoop salted alewives into bait bags and hauled lines hand over hand, all in the slim hope that a trap full of lobsters waited at the other end. And even when it did, those lobsters did not come out of the water with bands on their claws, as the scars on my fingers attest. Lobster fishing is smelly, unglamorous, hard work, and my hat is off to everyone who continues to ply the trade.

Yet my strongest childhood memories of the Maine coast revolve around people I met at the docks – the “Captain,” who taught me the concertina tune to “Spanish Fandango” that he had learned in the merchant marine; the scallop boat skipper for whom I sometimes crewed, who set his dragger on a seaward course one night and never came back; and “Henry,” who slept every night under the dry dock with kittens inside his shirt for warmth. I am forever indebted to the old-timers who kindly showed a kid how to turn cotton twine into a bait bag, string a head on a parlor trap, or sieve for bait during the spring herring runs. I do not miss the nasty, solitary side of fishing, but I do miss that coastal way of life.

So I often spend part of the first weekend in August at the Maine Lobster Festival. I grew up in Belfast, where my family’s lobster boat, the Marie P., was anchored in the waters below the Bayview Street cliff, but Rockland has staked its claim as the state lobster capital by running the festival since the late 1940s. Often marketed as a tourist event, the lobster festival is more a family gathering.

The whole shebang has expanded from my childhood, when the fisheries information tent was the only other “attraction” apart from the fire pits where the lobster, clams, and ears of corn were steamed. But a party atmosphere always prevails, whether in the pulchritude of the Sea Goddess pageant, the farcical arrival at the harbor of King Neptune and his Court, or the gloriously homemade quality of the floats in the Big Parade. Modern additions like the codfish carry for tykes or the lobster-crate race (contestants run across floating lobster storage crates until they fall into the water) seem very much in the spirit of things that lobsterfolk might do when they assemble with enough beer.

The grub isn’t bad, either. I am grateful to those fishermen who hauled the traps to bring 20,000 pounds of sweet-tasting (if ill-tempered) crustaceans to shore. I’m glad to stand in line and wait my turn. After all, I got to sleep in that morning.

Mechuwana

Remembering

 Mechuwana

Come to camp with me and revisit one of the most beautiful pieces of real estate in the state of Maine. I got to spend two weeks there every summer making lifelong friends along the way. My cousin Diane and I were among the first campers to attend this camp on Lower Narrows Lake in Winthrop, Maine, just above Augusta.

It was 1949 and we were nine-years-old as we attended the first “Junior Camp” from July 30-August 13. It was the first time I had ever been away from home for any extended amount of time. The only place I ever stayed overnight in those days was on the farm in Bremen where cousin Diane lived.

I was then a shy child who warmed up to strangers slowly. I was very happy to have my cousin with me to fall back on. She was much braver than I. Our parents left us standing on the porch of the main building, which we called the lodge. We were dressed alike in one-piece outfits that had short pants. They were like overalls, but made for kids, with metal fasteners on the bib part. I felt very vulnerable and clung close to Diane.

An adult came up to us and asked if we were twins as we were dressed alike. Of course we said, “Yes, we’re twin cousins.” I don’t remember who the adult was, but we later learned that all adults in the camp were called “aunt” and “uncle.” They wanted us all to feel like a family, and we did.

This “uncle” asked if we would like to take our turn as waitresses for the evening meal. Everyone had that duty during their stay. I think he could see I especially was scared and this might be a way for me to meet my fellow campers and feel more at ease with the place. It worked.

I ended up attending that camp every consecutive year thereafter, even attending Senior Camp as a teenager. I was also a junior counselor one summer for a couple weeks. I still keep in touch with one of the friends I made there. She came up to see me in Maine a couple summers ago.

The camp was also known as Methodist Church Camp at that time. This is the logo I remember to reflect that name. I used to sign letters to fellow campers during the school year with my name and a handwritten form of this logo. The name Mechuwana was adopted soon after it opened. Although it sounds like an Indian name, it is only partly Indian. It means: MEthodist CHurch WA (an Indian name for deity) and NAture.

If you are looking for a place to send your child to summer camp, I suggest you consider Mechuwana. A lot has changed since I attended. They now have many specialty camps to choose from. You do not have to be Methodist to attend Mechuwana and what is special about this Christian camp is that they don’t constantly hit you over the head with religion. Each camper is left to find their own spiritual self. I found my belief in every tree and that beautiful lake as well as the loons who came out at dusk to search for fish.

Scholarships are also available. Please go to your local Methodist Church to ask for details. The policy of Camp Mechuwana is to not turn any child away who wants to attend camp.

Meanwhile, please look at these two videos. Just copy and paste the URLs into your browser.

http://youtu.be/0LCNE6ppr9Q

http://youtu.be/aWIjh5sqlTQ

This is a copy of the lyrics to the Mechuwana song. It probably was attached to the side of one of the administration buildings at camp although I don’t remember seeing it. The folks singing it in this video are at camp for a 50^th reunion I believe. I should know many of these people, but sadly, I don’t recognize any of them.

Here are the words to that song. I include them to remind all of my old camper friends who may be reading this of the song we sang most every day we were at camp and the last time we sang it for that year was always a sad time with not a few tears shed.

Mechuwana

Remember the times you’ve had here.

Remember when you’re away.

Remember the friends you’ve made here

And don’t forget to come back someday.

Remember beside the camp fire.

The sky and the lake so blue.

That you belong to Mechuwana

And Mechuwana belongs to you

.

Oh Spirit of Mechuwana

Beneath these cathedral trees.

We worship by cross and altar

For thou art Lord God of all of these.

Oh guide us through field and forest

O’re paths that we all have trod.

For we belong to Mechuwana.

And Mechuwana belongs to God.

Happy Camping Memories and Thanks for Listening.

Sea Goddess Log--Special Update

The new 2011 Sea Princesses have just been announced. The new Maine Sea Goddess will be crowned Wednesday, August 3, at 8:00 p.m. on the Harbor Park Stage. Wednesday is Hometown Day and admission is free. Come witness this always beautiful ceremony. Who do you choose out of these 18 princesses? I wish all of you the best of luck.

The Maine Windjammer Association--Cruising the Maine Coast

The Maine Windjammer Association is celebrating 75 years of cruising the Maine coast this year. Here are activities taking place in the Midcoast area to celebrate. Also included in this blog are pictures and information about the Windjammers sailing from our local ports. Check their individual websites for tour rates and schedules.

The Maine Windjammer Association will host the Windjammer Parade and Anniversary Party on July 15 in Rockland, Maine. Open to the public, festivities will include an afternoon sail parade past the mile-long Rockland Breakwater Lighthouse, a free evening concert at Sharp's Wharf by folksinger Gordon Bok deemed by Time Magazine the "poet laureate of those who go down to the sea in ships," a multi-media display of historic photos of the 75-year-old company, open schooner tours and more. For more information about the Parade, call the Maine Windjammer Association at 800-807-WIND. www.sailmainecoast.com.

Open Schooner Tours on July 16, 2-4pm North End Shipyard & Windjammer Wharf, Rockland. Stop by and tour some of Maine’s legendary windjammers! The Rockland windjammers in the Maine Windjammer Association will host Open Schooner Tours on Saturday, July 16. From 2-4pm, visitors can stop by North End Shipyard and Windjammer Wharf (off Tillson Avenue) for dockside tours of the American Eagle, Heritage, Isaac H. Evans, Nathaniel Bowditch and Stephen Taber. For more information about the Open Schooner Tours, call the Maine Windjammer Association at 800-807-WIND. www.sailmainecoast.com.


For pictures of this year's parade go to the Museum Happenings Blog for this month.

From top to bottom: American Eagle, Timberland, Heritage, Lewis R. French.

American Eagle
Captain John Foss
Homeport: Rockland, Maine
1-800-648-4544 info@schooneramericaneagle.com

The 92' schooner American Eagle was built in Gloucester, Massachusetts in 1930. For 53 years she was a working member of the famed Gloucester fishing fleet. She is also a National Historic Landmark. Guests: 26.

Timberwind
Captain Bob Tassi
Homeport: Rockport, Maine
1-800-759-9250 info@schoonerwtimberwind.com



The Timberwind served as a pilot boat before being converted to a cruise schooner in 1969. As both a pilot boat and windjammer, she has never left Maine waters. National Historic Landmark. Guests: 20.

Heritage

Captains Doug & Linda Lee
Homeport: Rockland, Maine
1-800-648-4544 info@schoonerheritage.com

The Heritage was built in 1983 by her owners at the North End Shipyard in Rockland, Maine. Designed for the comfort of her passengers, the vessel was built in the tradition of a 19th century coaster. Guests: 30.

Lewis R. French
Captains Garth Wells and Jenny Tobin
Homeport: Camden, Maine
1-800-469-4635
captain@schoonerfrench.com

Launched in 1871 in Christmas Cove, Maine, the Lewis R. French is the oldest commercial schooner in the USA, and was recently designated a National Historic Landmark. This season marks the 64' coasting schooner's 138th summer in Maine. Guests: 21. 

From to to bottom: Nathaniel Bowditch, Stephen Taber, Mercantile, Victory Chines, Mary Day, Isaac H. Evans.


Nathaniel Bowditch
Captain Owen & Cathie Dorr
Homeport: Rockland, Maine
1-800-288-4098
sailbowditch@myfairpoint.net

The Nathaniel Bowditch was built as a racing yacht in 1922 in East Boothbay, Maine. The 82' schooner won special class honors in the Bermuda Race in 1923, and served in the Coast Guard during World War II. She was rebuilt for the windjamming trade in the early 1970's. Guests: 24.

Stephen Taber
Captain Noah & Jane Barnes
Homeport: Rockland, Maine
1-800-999-7352
info@stephentaber.com

The Stephen Taber was built as a coasting schooner in 1871 on Long Island, New York. The 68' schooner is the oldest documented sailing vessel in continuous service in the United States, and she was recently designated as a National Historic Landmark. Guests: 22.

Mercantile
Captain Ray & Ann Williamson
Homeport: Camden, Maine
1-800-736-7981info@mainewindjammercruises.com

The 78' Mercantile was built in Little Deer Isle, Maine in 1916 to carry salt fish, barrel staves, and firewood. The Mercantile became a cruise schooner in 1942 under the ownership of Frank Swift, the founder of the Maine windjammer trade. Guests: 29.

Victory Chimes
Captains Kip Files & Paul DeGaeta
Homeport: Rockland, Maine
1-800-745-5651kipfiles@gwi.net


Built in 1900 in Bethel, Delaware to carry lumber up and down the shallow bays and rivers of the Chesapeake, the 132' schooner Victory Chimes is the last three masted schooner on the East coast, and the largest passenger sailing vessel under U.S. flag. Guests: 40.


Mary Day
Captains Barry King & Jen Martin
Homeport: Camden, Maine
1-800-992-2218
captains@schoonermaryday.com

Launched in 1962, the 90' Mary Day was the first windjammer to be built specifically with comfort, safety, and performance in mind. Carrying on the Maine shipbuilding tradition, she is the first pure sailing schooner built in Maine since 1930. Guests: 29.

Isaac H. Evans
Captains Brenda and Brian Thomas
Homeport: Rockland, Maine
1-877-238-1325
info@isaacevans.com

The Isaac H. Evans was built in Mauricetown, New Jersey in 1886 and spent many years oystering on the Delaware Bay. In 1973 she was completely rebuilt for the windjamming trade. National Historic Landmark. Guests: 22.

From top to bottom: Angelique, Mistress, Grace Bailey


Angelique

Captain Mike & Lynne McHenry
Homeport: Camden, Maine
1-800-282-9989
windjam@sailangelique.com

The 95' ketch-rigged Angelique was built specifically for the windjamming trade in 1980. Patterned after the 19th century sailing ships that fished off the coast of England, the Angelique was built for safety, and offers the 
unique feature of a deckhouse salon. Guests: 29. 

Mistress
Captain Ray & Ann Williamson
Homeport: Camden, Maine
1-800-736-7981
info@mainewindjammercruises.com

A miniature version of the grander ships, the Mistress was built with a loyalty to traditional lines and materials coupled with an attention to modern amenities. Forty-six feet long, with just three double cabins (each with private head), she offers an intimate sailing experience. Guests: 6.

Grace Bailey
Captain Ray & Ann Williamson
Homeport: Camden, Maine
1-800-736-7981
info@mainewindjammercruises.com

Built in Patchogue, New York in 1882, the Grace Bailey was engaged in the West Indian trade, and hauling timber and granite until 1940, when she started carrying passengers. This 80' coaster was the flagship for the original Maine Windjammer Cruise fleet. Guests: 29. 


Happy Sailing!

Southend Stories--Reader Comments

Reader Comments

South End Stories

I would like to thank everyone who commented on my South End Facebook page recently, as well as all the people who “liked”  the page. Here’s my introduction on that page. Comments are always welcome.

Sandra Sylvester's comments on what it means to be from The South End of Rockland, Maine.

Sandra Sylvester is a native of Rockland’s South End. Her novel, The South End, takes place in the neighborhood where she grew up. She has degrees in Education and Communications and Professional Writing and has resided in Georgia for many years. She visits the South End as often as she can and enjoys sharing old stories with any Southender she comes upon. The blogs you read here come from her memories of growing up in the South End and in Rockland. She may also write comments about local events and concerns and delve into the history of Rockland as well. If you have stories to share, or comments to make about her blogs, please email her at southendstories@aol.com. Here are some recent comments: Duane Carr I remember rainy days riding my bike down Pacific St. slamming on the brakes seeing how close we could get to Fullers Mkt without crashing into it; sliding down the hill on real sleds; looking for glass at the shore; walking thru Fishers to get to the strand oil tank towers on Lawrence St.; rolling down the hill in a 55 gallon barrel; walking the tracks to South School; Dunkins Mkt; South End Esso. Tim Malmstrom: riding the train, sliding down the hill by Sears in a cardboard box. Freddie Luce: Good old South End. Did my 18 years there. Some were good! Thanks also to these people who liked the South End Facebook page: Vicki Woodbury Carr Robert A. Collins Judi Carter Beth Thomas Clark Terry Parker Cindy Vse Raymond Harrington Ray O’Neal Becky Wilcox-Brann Amy Milliken Susan Kelly Ron Dyer Tim Sullivan Kay Whittier Cochran Pat Graves Pendleton Candace Pepin Algie Mazzeo Justin David Wadsworth Aleisa Roach Rose Sorbello Joni Bowlin Sara Sylvester Tavares Jami Howard Brenda Sylvester Peabody I hope to see you all at the picnic in August (see the Picnic blog)