I’ve lived in Maine pretty much my entire life. Like most people, the place you lived during your childhood seems to be the place you feel most comfortable, the place you call home. I can think of no other place I have lived that holds more meaning to the deepest part of me than Maine. From the magical granite coastline, to the breathtaking western mountains, to the thousands of brooks, rivers, ponds lakes and streams, Maine has more inspirational vistas packed into every corner than you could see in a lifetime.
Every time I spend an afternoon sitting by a lake, fishing in a stream, hiking a mountain or listening to the waves crashing on the ocean shore, I understand what drew so many to this state at the beginning of this country. The winters are harsh, the summers short, but the soil is rich and the game abundant. One could still live off the land in the wilderness even today.
I think that is what I am attempting to do, only on the water not land.I want to be a modern day nomad, a viking perhaps, but minus the sword and helmet with horns sticking out! No ties to one spot, no roots holding me down, the closest thing to ultimate freedom I can get. But I think Winterport Maine will be my home port.
I stopped in and talked to the owner and some people who use this yard, and I was taken aback by how genuine, hospitable and friendly they all were. I had heard how people in the sailing community were a very close knit group, no thought to class or background. Everyone equal in their love for the water and the sound of the wind past sails. I think I may have found where I fit in.
What my future ultimately holds for me is unknown, hidden by the fog of a vision still maturing. One can make all the plans they want, but life can intervene and change things. I hold my head up, eyes straight ahead, goals set out before me. My will has never been stronger after my visit to the boat yard, my path so clear. I can make this work, or die trying.