Discover Monhegan
Step back in time and explore a natural treasure
Close your eyes and picture something untouched by time, pollution or expansion. Picture a place just as perfect as it was hundreds of years ago just as simple and just as pure.
by Kelly Michaud
Ten miles off the coast of Maine, the Atlantic Ocean surrounds such a treasure. It's a place with a deep history and less than a 100 year-round residents who call this place, this island, home.
Welcome to Monhegan, Maine.
Vibrant purple, pink and yellow wildflowers. Lush green trees. Crisp blue water connected to a light blue sky both extending as far as you can see. Birds taking flight off the cliffs the wind catching their wings, propelling them higher. Rocky trails with gnarled, twisted roots, leading to panoramic views that leave people speechless or only able to utter, "Wow."
The beauty of Monhegan has been written about for centuries and captured in photographs and countless paintings. But unlike most things, Monhegan has changed less than the seasons do. Granted, it has made some modern advances in recent generations, like electricity to most parts of the island, but the simplicity that makes Monhegan so special is still at its core.
Recorded history of the island stems back more than 400 years. A tercentenary tablet, affixed to a rock outside the white schoolhouse, commemorates John Smith's visit to Monhegan in 1614. But Monhegan was known to Native Americans as a prime fishing area, long before Smith set foot on it.
Today the island's economy is still dictated by those who make their living from the fruits of the Atlantic through fishing and lobstering. A 1998 law gave Monhegan lobstermen exclusive rights to a two-mile radius of ocean around the island and limited lobstering off Monhegan from Dec. 1 to June 25. Walking down the streets, lobster traps line the roadways, fencing in homes, and buoys swing from trees waiting for the season to reopen. Trap Day, Dec. 1, the day the lobstermen set their traps, has become one of the island's most popular events.
I got lucky the day I headed to Monhegan. For most of June the weather was less than ideal, except for the day I took Route 32 to New Harbor. Driving down the winding road a calm ocean was ahead and a few wisps of clouds and blue sky were above. A friend and I boarded the ferry and took our seat, both with a vague idea of what we might see but unable to grasp its beauty until we saw it for
ourselves.
Passing smaller islands, harbor seals and loons, the shape of Monhegan loomed ahead. Some on the ferry sat back, closed their eyes and let the breeze lull them to sleep. Others sat near the front, anxious for every glimpse of the island. Smaller feet ran back and forth, listening to the captain's directions to check out a seal at 1 o'clock or another creature at 9 o'clock.
I climbed down from the top of the ferry and after steadying myself made my way toward our captain, Capt. Al Croceth.
The natural beauty is what fascinates most, he said.
"People are looking for a place that's a little less hectic because their lives are so hectic," said Croceth, who has been a captain on the Hardy Boats for nine years. "And when the boats leave for the day, you realize you're there and there is no way to get off the island. It's an incredible feeling."
The ride out took a little under an hour, but it seemed like half that time. We climbed off the boat and a row of older trucks (some of the only vehicles allowed on the island) and weathered men greeted the passengers, ready to take the luggage of those who would be spending the night or more in an inn or cottage.
We passed The Barnacle, where I grabbed perhaps the tastiest pecan chocolate chip cookie I've ever tasted and looked at the trail map to figure out where to start our expedition.
The dirt roadways on the island guided us up a hill, past the island's essentials to the left, the schoolhouse and lighthouse, and to the
right, two markets, a shop or two, the church and the post office. Beyond the small village lay the trails and we headed out in search of the cliffs.
Along the way to Whitehead (Trail 7), which is known for its extensive panoramic views of the ledges and ocean, we swung by the Monhegan Lighthouse. The museum at the lighthouse was closed (it opens for the season in July) but set up on a hill, the view from the granite structure overlooks the village below and the ocean ahead. Artists were spread out over the grass, each trying to capture the lighthouse and the area from a different angle.
Art has become almost as great a part of Monhegan as its lobstering traditions. For more than 100 years, Monhegan has turned into a summer haven for artists who want to enjoy the solitude and capture its beauty. Artists including George Bellows, Edward Hopper, Rockwell Kent, Jamie Wyeth and many others have popularized Monhegan. Now, numerous studios are sprawled over the island. Sitting on benches and standing before easels with watercolors, acrylics and such, artists work to recreate the colors and sights before them on canvas.
Continuing past the lighthouse, we reached Whitehead. In front of us a young girl leaned against a rock, painting the scenery in watercolors while her younger brother sat atop a rock and created his own magic with Crayola crayons. Looking out at the ocean and beside me at the other cliffs Burnthead and Gull Rock to my right and Little Whitehead and Blackhead to my left, I was speechless. Photography can capture some of the beauty of this place, but the detail of the rocks, the slight feeling of fear looking down at the waves breaking on the rocks below and the wonder at how it is still untouched, should be experienced first-hand.
We took off, hiking over rocks and climbing embankments along one of the most difficult trails on the island to reach the heights of the
cliffs we saw in the distance. There are easier routes to most of the places (see Trail map), but I felt adventurous and wanted the challenge.
Making our way across the island, we were greeted by other explorers; few were from Maine. One couple was visiting from Florida. A mother and son heralded from California and another family was up from Maryland. All were drawn to this haven in the middle of the Atlantic. And each kept repeating the words I had been saying to myself all day I can't believe how beautiful it is.
The island is also home to more than 600 varieties of wildflowers and 200 kinds of birds such as peregrine, falcons, ospreys and marsh hawks. Trail 11 takes visitors through an area of spruce trees and moss called Cathedral Woods, which is carpeted with pine needles and leads back to the village.
When our stomachs started growling we headed back toward the village and to North End Market for lunch. The market offers pizza, sandwiches, hot dogs, soups and more. I devoured a meatball sub topped with provolone cheese on a fresh baguette. Need I say more?
With my hunger taken care of, it was back to exploring.
At Lobster Cove, among the rocks and lupine, is the shipwreck of the D.T. Sheridan. Parts of the rusty hull still speckle the shore, a reminder of the powerful sea and the dangerous coastal rocks. Other trails branch off from this area some passing over rock ledges and offering views of Gull Rock, which only had one seagull on it, and others that curve in and out of the woods.
As the time neared 3 p.m., we turned back and headed toward the village and down to the dock as not to miss our ride back to New Harbor.
Boarding the ferry home, I was torn between staying in this place caught in time one with few of the conveniences of the mainland but with all the simplicities that make life peaceful and relaxful. As the sun beat down on the boat and the wind brushed the hair from my face, I dozed off. And when I awoke, I wondered if this perfect day had been a dream. Looking behind me, I saw the faint shape of the island and knew better. It hadn't been a dream. But it was close. It was Monhegan.