It was a dark and stormy night
October makes us think of things mysterious, foggy nights and the deep tradition of Maine as a threshold for the otherworldly. Certainly the silent spruce, rocky shores and dramatic ocean inspire authors like Stephen King. But the true tales of harrowing adventure are enough to keep us reading, close by a toasty fireplace, into the night.
Maine’s lighthouses seem to have a full share of stories. Perhaps not surprisingly, given their remote locations and the conditions they are built to stand against. Our own Burnt Island Light and the fog horn stand their watch against the storm. Nearby Cuckolds Lighthouse (now a select getaway), was built in 1892 to warn of the rocks that “are much dreaded by mariners in thick weather and are a great peril.” Owl’s Head Light, just up the coast in Rockport, has a tale to tell.
The story goes that in December 1850, a schooner crashed against the rocks in a raging storm, with three aboard to face their fates. The skipper and his bride wrapped themselves in blankets and held tight to keep each other warm. The deckhand clung to the icy rigging. At dawn, the lighthouse keeper caught sight of the wreck and nearly-frozen crew member. A rescue party soon found the couple – encased in a cocoon of ice. Amazingly, the two were revived and lived to raise a family of four children.
Regulars here at Spruce Point take comfort from those fog horns and valiant lights, making sure the only shivers we experience are the ones of delight in a good story and happy endings.
- The concept of earned value
- Return of the spring. You come, too.
- Aprils and Openers
- Standing limber and spruce with a backdrop of the entrance to Boothbay Harbor
- Green days and patience
- Lifelong learning outside the book on the Midcoast
- The February Sound of Silence
- Adding up the elements of experience
- Boothbay Harbor Nation
- The spruce ‘forest primeval’ and the Ghosts of Christmas present