Maine: Some Things that Haven't Changed

. . .and a few that have.

As I've mentioned previously, we went to Maine three times in the 1980s: the first time in 1982 on an extended vacation; the second in 1984 when we sent our son Don to the Hurricane Island Outward Bound School; and in 1988 on a magazine assignment. We found Maine enchanting and thoroughly enjoyed each visit. But returning 31 years later was not the experience we had hoped for. Maine had moved on, and perhaps, so had we.

Even nostalgia is not what it used to be.

But not everything has changed. We didn't visit the lighthouse at Pemaquid Point on our 2019 trip, but I doubt it has changed much since I photographed it in 1982. (Leica M3, Kodachrome 64.)

One change I expected as we crossed the Sheepscot River at Wiscasset, was the absence of the derelict schooners Hesper and Luther Little. Abandoned at the dock after their owner went bankrupt in 1934, they rotted away until 1998. They were the last four-masted schooners in the world. I photographed them in 1984 with my 4x5 view camera. (4x5 Calumet-Cambo view camera, 150mm f5.6 Caltar lens, Ektachrome.)

Louise's aunt's house at Higgins Beach looked much the same as when we first visited in 1982, but the beach across the street was mostly empty in those days. In 2019 it was a little more crowded, as you may have seen in Wednesday's post! (Fuji X-Pro 1, Fujinon XF 27mm f2.8 lens)

In 1984 we camped at the Cape Neddick campground for a week. It was one of the most delightful experiences in our entire camping history. The Cape Neddick Lobster Shack was nearby, and I photographed it with my 4x5 view camera, which for some reason I had decided to bring along on this trip. You can see Dennis Mook's photograph taken in October, 2019 here. Not much has changed in 35 years. (Calumet-Cambo view camera, 150mm f5.6 Caltar lens, Ektachrome.)

Just for fun, I made the obligatory photographs of Nubble Light at Cape Neddick, surely one of Maine's most photographed scenes. The first two were made with a Fuji X-T20 (a great little camera that makes big pictures) and the Fujinon XC 16-50mm f3.5-5.6 OIS-II lens, a cheap lens that's very, very sharp.

The second two photos were made in 1988 with a Pentax 6x7, a camera that I feel gave me more "keepers" than any camera I've ever owned. Pentax 6x7, 105mm f2.4 Takumar lens)

  
I like the last one best.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

The Maine that Is

If this photo doesn't look like much, it's because the Tidal Bore at Monckton,
New Brunswick wasn't much that morning. Louise was disappointed.
On this day the Tidal Bore was a total bore.
(Fuji X-Pro1, XC 50-230mm f4.8-6.3 OIS lens)

Leaving Halifax, we traveled as far as Monckton, New Brunswick. where we parked our travel trailer in a Wal-Mart parking lot for the night -- a practice RVers call "boondocking," and got up early the next morning because Louise wanted to see the Tidal Bore.

This area has the highest tides in the world. In fact, the tide actually pushes the current in the Petitcodiac River backward more than 17 miles from the sea. This wall of water pushing upstream against the current is called the Tidal Bore. Sometimes it is several feet high and a few adventurous people surf it, but on this morning it was only about a foot high and Louise was disappointed.

Crossing back into the U.S. at Calais, we decided that since we had never been farther north along the Maine coast than Rockland, we would travel U.S. Hwy.1, which ran closest to the coast. I was hoping to make some good pictures of harbors and fishing villages, but the weather was overcast and rainy.

Arriving at Mt. Desert Island under clearing skies, we found a nice campground and stayed for three days, touring the island and Acadia National Park, a truly beautiful park. I especially enjoyed the trip to the top of Cadillac Mountain, the highest point on the eastern U.S. seaboard at 1532 feet. We drove through the town of Bar Harbor, about which we had heard much over the years, but the place was jammed, there was no place to park, and nothing there we wanted to see anyway, so we drove on around the island.

Bar Harbor from the top of Cadillac Mountain.
1532 feet up. A bit of haze in the air.
(Fuji X-T20, XC 50-230mm f4.8-6.3 OIS lens)

I didn't make many photographs at Acadia National Park. It was quickly obvious to me that the park was a subject that would require time and proximity at all seasons to do it justice, and since I had neither, I bought a book of photographs by Bob Thayer titled, appropriately, Acadia National Park at the gift shop. His photos are truly lovely. I'm envious.

Higgins Beach, where Louise's aunt had a beach house for many
years. Even this relatively obscure beach is jammed on July 1st, 2019.
(Fuji X-T20, XF 27mm f2.8 lens)

Moving on down the coast, we parked our trailer in a campground at Cape Neddick and set out to visit some of the places we had enjoyed on previous trips. We had gone to Maine three times in the '80s, one of them on a magazine assignment, and found it all enchanting. But now? Not so much. Things have changed, and not for the better from our viewpoint. Southeastern Maine is eaten up with tourists and development and is no longer at all enchanting to us. Dock Square in Kennebunkport, where I discovered the photography of B.A. "Tony" King at the Book Port bookstore in 1982 (I wrote about it here), was so jammed that we didn't even attempt to stop.

Louise selects her lobster. (To my shame, I must
confess that this photo was made with my iPhone.)

But it wasn't all bad. We had lobster five days in a row and Louise, whose absolute favorite food is lobster, says that that, at least, is still great!

I have a large file of Maine photographs from the '80s, so I didn't attempt to take many on this trip. To be honest, I no longer find Maine inspirational. But this is the Maine that is.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts? 

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

On the Trail of the Wild Cliché at Peggy's Cove

The fishing village of Peggy's Cove, Nova Scotia

In June, 2019, we hitched our small travel trailer (very comfortable for two people if they like each other) to our elderly (but still fit) Chevy pickup and headed from our home in Northwest Georgia up through the northeastern U.S. to Nova Scotia. Our destination was Halifax, where my wife had relatives she had never met. One of the places on our must-see list was Peggy's Cove, a fishing village on an inlet of the Bay of Fundy, known for some of the world's highest tides.

A mecca for photographers and painters for many years, Peggy's Cove has also become a mecca for droves of tourists. Busloads and busloads and busloads of tourists. We first visited the Cove with Louise's cousins around midday and found tour buses and tourists everywhere, with not a photo op in sight unless you count making photos of tourists taking selfies with their cell phones. That could certainly be a subject for a social documentary of some kind, but not my area of interest. It was obvious that I would have to come back much earlier in the day if I hoped to get any worthwhile pictures of the waterfront and the village.

Two days later I came back by myself, shortly after sunrise. A medium overcast created a subtle, atmospheric light that vividly rendered colors which could have been washed out in bright sunlight. I took my time, made the best photographs I could, and was finished by ten o'clock, just as the tourist invasion began.

I have to tell you, however, that these photographs are clichés. Similar ones have been made thousands and thousands of times by serious photographers, and millions of times if you count the cell-phone crowd. Like I said, Peggy's Cove has been a mecca for photographers and painters for many years. If there are any photographs here that haven't already been made I could not find them. Yet, knowing that, I enjoyed making these pictures and I enjoy looking at them. They may be clichés, but they are my clichés.

Friend and fellow photo-blogger Dennis Mook visited Peggy's Cove a few months later, in October. You can see his photographs here. I think he did a better job than I did, but I'm sure you will notice some similarities.

Don't be discouraged that so many places and things have already been photographed. You and I have not yet photographed them, and who knows? We may even find something no one has yet photographed as we follow the trail of the wild cliché.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020)

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone

A Pair of Old Mills

I've often mentioned my love of old mills. Here are two of my favorites, both of them in Georgia.

Starr's Mill

Starr's Mill is on Whitewater Creek about nine miles south of Fayetteville, Georgia, From the town square, take GA Hwy. 85 south. The mill will be on the right side of the highway.

The first mill at this site was built by Hananiah Gilcoat sometime before 1825, but it was Hilliard Starr, who owned the property from 1866 to 1879, whose name stuck. The first two mills were of logs, both of which burned. The current mill, built by William T. Glower in 1907, was in service until 1959 and at one time included a cotton gin and a dynamo that generated electricity for Senoia. There are some beautiful old mills in Georgia, but I rate this as one of the top two or three.

Not as well known, but in a beautiful setting, is the Ragsdale Mill.

Ragsdale Mill

From the town of Homer, north of Gainesville, Georgia, take GA Hwy. 51 for two miles and turn left on Damascus Road. Go a half-mile and slant right on Mt. Olivet Road. In a bit over a mile, you will pass the Mt. Olivet Methodist Church, built c. 1868. Continue past the church for 0.2 miles. Mt. Olivet Road becomes gravel and goes down a steep hill. Near the bottom of the hill, on the right, is the entrance to the mill. This is private property, so please observe the sign on the gate and call the owners before entering.

The first mill on Nail's Creek was built sometime before 1837. The Reverend Francis Marion Ragsdale, who founded the Mt. Olivet Church as an anti-slavery congregation and pastored it for many years, bought the mill site from his father in 1853 and built the mill in 1863. The millstones were imported from France and brought into Savannah by blockade runners slipping past U.S. Navy ships guarding the port.

Sit a bit and enjoy. This is one of the most serene and beautiful places to which my Georgia travels have taken me.

Blog Note: I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings at alifeinphotography.blogspot.com. I'm trying to build up my readership, so if you're reading this on Facebook and like what I write, would you please consider sharing my posts?

(Photographs copyright David B. Jenkins 2020) 

Soli Gloria Deo

To the glory of God alone