August and 3 of us were having trouble finding the kayak ramp, and the tide was running out fast, if we didn’t get our gear in the boats we’d sink deep really deep into the ocean mud

We should have known

We were 3 50year olds planning a big trip to for adventure and fun, and maybe to prove something, paddle out to a campsite with sun and waves and beaches on Ant Island. Casco bay Maine where there was 1,000 square miles of islands and ocean, the size of Rhode Island, old world war 2 bunkers, It would be full of beautiful places to camp, colorful lobster boats, and great sunsets.

Day One Found us looking for a place to launch, And portland was a huge Sea Port, it was the largest oil seaport on in the east, with Cruise ships, and a city right down to the water's edge,

We should have known

Traveling Up the coast a bit we did find a place with lobster boats, After we unloaded, I had my first shock. The kayaks were on a long mudflat and the water was going out fast, we had to keep moving the kayaks as we loaded them to keep up with the running tide. I’ve paddled lakes, but this was new The 3 of us paddled, weaving in and out lobster boats and out into the huge open bay. The day was warm and inviting, with the exception that we had trouble keeping our kayaks together, none of us were carving a straight line way out in the dark blue green cold cold water of the bay and a little bit of nervousness ran through me, None of us could roll a kayak, none of us could do a rescue,

Looking constantly at the map, trying to read the yellow marine chart and way off in the distance I was trying to read where Ant Island was, but the gentle waves and the fluffy clouds and watching the sights was distracting,

Richard, the most observant of us, kept pointing out Cruise ships and bigger ships in the distance, and kept asking if the black and red one was getting bigger

Looking at the marine chart I thought we might be in a boxed area called “transfer” in red, OH NO …. Oil Tankers and small kayaks!!!!!

Paddle hard paddle hard,…

but as we paddled across and out past the islands, the waves started

We should have known

Waves like large steep hills You’d slide charging down one side of the hill, only to be lifted up and up, tottering on the top, edge, the edge was really scary, as was the slide down into the valley I felt terrified and alone when at the bottom of the iron gray waters, I couldn’t see my friends When I was teetering at the very very top edge of a wave I could see my 2 terrified friends way down below, Yelling between The roar of the waves we knew that we should turn around, Paddling back inside the protection of the islands all calmed down and grew quiet, We could feel the gentle swell of the waves, and hear a far off sea Buoy ringing,

Day Three But Started off fine, There was a A fog like you see in the movie just when the monster is coming out of the water, Fog like pulling a wool sweater on and getting stuck in the sleeve Trying to not bump into each other but stay close

And keeping close to shore was scary, the oceans swells could pick you up and dash you on the shark white knives of t he coral encrusted rocks. The map said there after the next bay, then Ant Island would be some where farther out,

The only way would be to make a human chain out as far as possible into the cold gray material that enveloped us, I would stay within sight of optimistic Richard, and he’d stay within sight of oblivious Jim who would stay within sight of land

Worry coursed through me,

How had I become the leader of this group of scared terrified explorers? We’ll, There was only one way to find out, So I lied, Stretching out, 10 feet apart, then20 , I could just hear Richard scared and wavering voice, then farther and Suddenly Jim was by my side “Jim where is Land” , “I thought we were there” he replied. Then we heard a sound, CREEK SCRAPE SPLASH, CREEK SCRAPE SPLASH Terrifying visions started up in the back of my mind,

Blood thirsty pegged leg pirates,

Chains from a Tanker floating. In the fog

Suddenly, I bumped into something ,

There were 2 terrifying screams, me and a lobster man

Putting his hands on his yellow waders and pushing his wool hat back, he growled

“Where did. You guys come from, you crazy, you’ll die out here,

A brief chat, and some nervous laughter, He pointed in the island’s direction and we were saved The next day We were so tired the next day, all we thought about was relaxing and read books, The island was small, really small, just 30 feet across, ringed with a white crushed shell beach But it had a wonderful shed on it, so we thought we’d spend our last nights there Taking out the marine chart, we found we were not on ant island but crow island, Oh well, and the big Island off to our west had an Inn marked on it. We Had just enough phone service to a call to directory assistance and a transfer to an inn on an island in a bay, When connected, we weren’t sure it was the right one, had to ask a lot of questions, they sounded more and more dubious about the call, But when they found out we were kayakers they laughed at us especially when we had no idea what day or time it was The Inn had an end of the day space for us, but we had to paddle there soon Paddled over to the main Island, tied up the kayaks and walked the ruff road across the island to the inn. The INN was one of those Grand Old Historic New England Inns from a long ago time,

Warming ourselves in the Deep rich leather seats, sipping a whiskey, in front of a Gray Fieldstone fireplace, We called ourselves the 3 amigos talked of exploration , conquering the sea, and our new found expertise in paddling A wonderful dinner looking out through the huge grand windows, wine, an unbelievably beautiful sunset, red’s long stripes of oranges, …and more wine

As we walked away from dinner as the shut and locked up behind us, laughter and stories still on our lips, And we should have known And we realized we’d left our flashlights with the boats, and couldn’t see the rutted dirt road, There were no street lights, no moon, We tripped and stumbled on the broken surface, and laughed with too much wine The only infrequent cottage dim lamps showed we were not walking back into the ocean Finding a beach and the water’s edge

but no kayaks, we froze

Richard the observant one, said that they must be here somewhere He led us back again to the road, And there they were, it was an incredible low tide Pulling the kayaks down to the water's edge, and putting on head Laughing we paddled out into the blackness, but we could see no island, or anything and we started to get sober Head lamps showed little except each others pale faces

Paddling in the dark, Then Jim started screaming, “ a body a dead body”, he was frantically pushing and whacking at something away from himself which was tipping him dangerously over In fear we gathered and looked down at the exposed sun bleached white ribs the long slimy sleeves, the brown hairy back of a head, But Something wasn’t right, I poked at it The ribs were flat and square , and made of wood The fear and darkness filled our imaginations, but it was … just a lobster trap with a buoy and long arms of seaweed Now we were silent and and much more sober, But looking around, we’d lost our direction and The dim lights in the cottage window were gone,

And all was black Which way was back and which way was forward? But somewhere, in the blackness in our headlamps seemed to shimmer in an unnerving way We paddled in that direction, Closer and closer we paddled It was a tall vertical black wall of shiny goo, rising up out of the sea

Was it the hill of a sunken ship, was it a monolith from a space odyssey Terrified again, and speechless, we Followed, this wall The vertical black slime reached up into the night, it met in a sharp corner with another black wall of shiny goo Then we realized, we’d found our little island, At high tide it was 30 feet across, but at low tide 10 feet in the air, and much wider

Turning around the outer edge, we followed this granite arm of seaweed only to find we were trapped again, many feet below the island, The night seemed to go on forever

But with no beach, and no way to paddle to anywhere else to safety, and the cold ocean water was chilling our bodies In desperation we finally - fearfully held onto long arms of seaweed, and slipped and climbed and pushed each other up some lower blocks of granite, and found camp

The last day, as we paddled out,, The ocean was smooth and like a mirror, reflections of tall white clouds and seagulls whirling overhead, We continued on as the 3 amigos with many more adventures, But this Days true adventure, was the incredible diverse beauty of Maine's changing personalities,

And A deeply bonded friendship

But We should have known

Story Pictures

• Portland Putin

• Big Bay and Tankers

• Waves and fear

• Fog and the Lie

• Grand Historic Inn

• The Dark Paddle

• Glorious Day

Ant Island Teller Notes:

• August and 3 of us Jim, Richard and I, were having trouble finding the kayak ramp, and the tide was running out fast, if we didn’t get our gear in the boats we’d sink deep really deep into the ocean mud

  We should have known

• We were Three 50year olds planning a WEEK long  big trip for adventure and fun, and maybe to prove something, paddle out to a campsite with sun and waves and beaches on Ant Island.

• Casco bay Maine 

  • 1,000 square miles of islands and ocean, 

  • old world war 2 bunkers, 

  • It would be full of beautiful places to camp, colorful lobster boats, and great sunsets

• Day one and we were looking for a place to launch, 

  • Portland, largest oil seaport on in the east, 

  • with Cruise ships, 

  • and a city right down to the water's edge, 

  We should have known

• Traveling Up the coast a bit we did find a place with lobster boats, 

  • First shock, the tides

  • weaving in and out lobster boats and out into the huge open bay. 

  OH NO …. Oil Tankers and small kayaks!!!!! 

• The Waves like large steep hills 

  • slide , tottering , Terrified, when can see friends, huge cliffs,

• Paddling back , all calmed down and grew quiet, 

  • hear a far off sea Buoy ringing,

• A fog, monster, sweater 

  • Dangers, not bump, coral sharp white knives

  • The map said

  • human chain 

  • Could not see Richard, but could hear his shaky scared voice

  •  So I lied, 

    • We’ll, There was only one way to find out, 

  • I heard a sound, CREEK SCRAPE SPLASH, CREEK SCRAPE SPLASH

    • Blood thirsty pegged leg pirates, a Tanker

  • Suddenly, there were 2 terrifying screams

  • The next Day we’d had our adventure,

    • Island looks like :

    • the marine chart, an Inn

  • The INN, Grand Old Historic New England Inns 

    • Deep rich leather seats, Fieldstone fireplace, 

    • 3 amigos, Dinner, sunset

• As we walked laughter and stories still on our lips, 

And we should have known

• No flashlights, no street lights, cottage lamps

• Beach - no boats,

  • paddled out into the blackness, pale faces 

• Jim started screaming, “ a body a dead body”, 

  • exposed sun bleached white ribs the long slimy sleeves, hairy

  • But Something wasn’t right, I poked at it

    • The fear and darkness filled our imaginations

  • But looking around, we’d lost our direction

  • a black shimmering

    • vertical black wall of shiny goo, rising up out of the sea

      • Side of a whale, a sunken ship, a sea wall 

  • Terrified Followed, this wall

    •  it met in a sharp corner with another black wall of shiny goo

    • Then we realized, we’d found our little island,

      • Size of island

    • The night seemed to go on forever

      • no beach, where to paddle, Chilling Maine water

• The last day, as we paddled out

  • The ocean was smooth and like a mirror, 

• We continued on as the 3 amigos , with many more adventures,

  • But this Days true adventure, was the incredible diverse beauty of Maine's FIERCE personalities,

And A deeply bonded  friendship 

But We should have known