By Karen
Posted Friday, August 5, 2005

Foggy Weather
Fog sets the stage for one of the most distinctive moods of island living.

If you ask Michael he will tell you that foggy days on the island are the very best days. Though his very favorite kind of fog is more like undulating waves of clouds caught between water below and blue skies above, he also absolutely adores the days when the island is completely shrouded in thick gray fog. Fog is a fact of island living.. the cold waters meet the warm air and low moisture ladden clouds slide up the river, snake through the trees, creating the impression that nothing exists beyond the boundaries of the land. Only the persistent fog horns in the distance provide evidence that the rest of the world is still there.

Most foggy days on the island, you pull the covers up a little higher, snuggle into the down featherbed a little longer, and when you do emerge, it's a day for reading books, eating soup, and taking naps. But THIS foggy day was shopping day. Guests were coming the next day, and we really needed to make the voyage across the river and down the road to the grocery in Machias . Fortunately, Captain Mike was up for the adventure.

Armed with the newfangled G.P.S an old fashioned compass, the captain rallied his mates and went to the wharf to get the boat. Suffering from a bit of island fever, and anxious about groceries to serve our guests.. Ralph and I were also more than ready to bundle up and head off into the gray wall... knowing that soon we'd see neither island behind us, nor Campobello ahead of us.

The journey was all we expected... the whosh of whales out fishing for breakfast, the errie sounds of gulls that suddenly appear out of the gray wall and just as quickly disappear again, the low fog horns, and the sound of the motor.. following the needle of the compass heading the boat southeast... straining to see signs of trees, rock.. land..

This day the fog was so thick that gratefully finding Campobellow wasn't enough.. We turned right along the shore and motored south.. the curious gulls on the rocks watching and wondering what were were doing out on such a day. But once around the big rock, and over the turmoil where water meets water at the mouth of another cove, we were once again surrounded by nothingness.. no landmarks to point the way, the compass little help. It was definitley the G.P.S. to the rescue.. tracking our slow progress and guiding us to the breakwater at North Road.

Exhilarating.. in some small way we feel like explorers heading off into the uncharted waters to find a new world..

Ah... but alas.. it is just another trip to the grocery store island style!!

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