<![CDATA[Keepers of Baker Island - Caretaker\'s Report]]>

<![CDATA[Keepers of Baker Island - Caretaker\'s Report]]>Mon, 09 Mar 2026 04:01:24 -0700Weebly<![CDATA[My Time on and Around Baker]]>Sat, 15 Nov 2025 08:00:00 GMThttps://www.keepersofbakerisland.org/caretakers-report/my-time-on-and-around-bakerBeing the caretaker on Baker is not just about mowing, answering questions, cleaning up trash, working on old buildings, answering questions, guarding artifacts, helping find slightly lost children, hauling dinghies up and down and up and down the shore, answering questions, being followed by deer, carrying supplies up the hill, fixing equipment, and remembering to enjoy the amazing sunrises and sunsets.

For a guy often alone on Baker, I am seldom lonely. This is partly because I am always busy, and enjoy a deep friendship with the other island family. “Friendship” is certainly an understatement; they are family. Even when their house is empty, they are in my heart. A mile across the bar, Islesford feels like part of our hamlet (except in storms and thick fog), and the other Cranberry Isles like nearby villages.

After a rather extended stay on Baker, I found myself walking across Islesford and was reminded I have family there, too. I crossed paths with an old friend, a lobsterman and gentleman, and we enjoyed catching up, the time melting away. Further on, a stranger took a chance, asking, “Are you from Baker?” I affirmed, wondering if it was the many empty water jugs or my disheveled appearance that caught her attention. There were questions and I enjoyed answering. Another neighbor provided a water bowl for Waldo, cookies and lemonade for me; after a visit, gave me a ride to the dock. The Islesford Boatworks folks called out cheerful greetings. While I waited for the mailboat, a lobsterman offered me a ride to MDI. I declined, suspecting I would make a new friend on the mailboat… I did.

My friends at Acadia National Park, the harbor folks at Northeast, lobstermen at Seal and so many others are part of my community. At any dock, help appears to load or unload boats, because that is just what folks do. On Baker, once-in-a-lifetime visitors and weekly regulars alike help carry my supplies up the hill, often without asking. Spare parts have been raced out by friends and strangers alike and many people have given us rides. Bar Harbor Whale Watch folks even went to the pharmacy and delivered COVID medication!

Last summer, I was struggling with old brittle filament for our string trimmer. With no expectations, I posted a note online: “Anyone got some?” thinking I could row to Islesford. No need! Almost immediately, Shannon Bryan came over on a paddle board, with filament and some cold beverages (my stay had been extended and the cupboard was a little bare). The supplies were greatly appreciated, but our half hour chat was simply delightful.

Even alone on Baker Island, I am always a small part of a large community. Didn’t someone once say, “No man is an island?” John somebody, long ago?

]]><![CDATA[Moving Parts-7/11/2025]]>Sat, 12 Jul 2025 14:13:03 GMThttps://www.keepersofbakerisland.org/caretakers-report/moving-partsIn my early childhood I first heard the phrase "many moving parts," likely to describe a piece of equipment. As I started to take things apart that eventually became a warning of sorts.

It is the evening of  Friday July 11th. A week from today I will be back on Baker for a work period that should be over a week. My tasks are many and diverse so there is a lot of preparation. Lists, post-it notes and carefully laid out piles of gear are the norm around here.

My mother in-law, a person who cherished every moment she spent on Baker, absolutely embraced minimalist trips to the island. Her trips would often be 2-weeks with a full to-do list and bringing only “just enough."

I get real enjoyment stepping off the boat onto Baker with just a day pack and Waldo for a few days. I can stretch a large grinder well into the second day and recycle my clothes after a casual rinse. Minimalism can be very rewarding.

Next week I am faced with another “big trip.” I will be landing some equipment, a few items to improve the domestic side of things and a good charge of expendables. Also on the manifest are items for August and September projects. Later in the season I expect to enjoy some much simpler trips.

For now there are things to paint, materials to pick up and hopefully a few deliveries that will arrive in time. Many moving parts to be sure. I shall not even think about my trusty truck’s moving parts as it lumbers past 1/4 million miles. It’s only a 300 mile drive.

The packing has Waldo a bit concerned. A door left open on any vehicle in the driveway will certainly see him jumping in, ready to go! After our last trip we happened to walk by the L/C Kukui tied up at a dock and Waldo jumped aboard without a second thought. It is nice he is always ready for an adventure.

For him every trip embraces minimalism and maximum fun.

perhaps a lesson there?

]]><![CDATA[Eight days away -6/18-6/26]]>Thu, 10 Jul 2025 13:45:07 GMThttps://www.keepersofbakerisland.org/caretakers-report/eight-days-away-618-626 June trip to Baker "checked all the boxes"

I remember the first time I heard the phrase "checked all the boxes." I was rather young and it was someone's critique of a meal at a restaurant (a rare outing for our family). Everyone smiled, but I didn't really understand it.

Some five decades later it feels like a perfect way to describe my last trip to the Island. Very exciting trip. I will add details soon, promise!

A little teaser...

jmc w/Waldo

]]><![CDATA[Cleaning up the Shores]]>Wed, 01 May 2019 07:00:00 GMThttps://www.keepersofbakerisland.org/caretakers-report/cleaning-up-the-shoresMy first trip of the year out to Baker early in the Spring of 2011 found me pensive and restless on the boat. Stefanie Alley was giving me a ride and we were having a nice visit. When we came around the edge of Islesford and saw the fields of Baker, she remarked on how spectacular the deep green grass looked waving in the wind. To her it looked like Ireland might. I welled up with pride: 8 years of mowing and tending the fields had brought them back nicely.
Once landed, I made a thorough inspection of all the buildings and then, as is my custom, took my inaugural stroll around the Island. Down to the Dance Floor and then clockwise, as is my usual direction. Why clockwise? Well a somewhat weakened right ankle seems to tolerate being inland a bit better.
I must confess, my head was full to the brim with scores of details that go with being the executive director for a not for profit that is only a few months old. I trudged around the Island ruminating on the impending acquisition of the Baker Light Tower by the Park from the Coast Guard. Should I be prepared to launch a huge capital campaign for the benefit of the eventual restoration of the tower? I was working my way around the large saltwater pool and with the tide slipping out I watched the water rushing under the boulders flowing back out to sea. There were a dozen lobster buoys bobbing in the pool, held back from the sea by the boulders.
Next I found myself wondering how the nearby historical societies and others would see us? Would Friends of Acadia be our friends ? Always in the back of my mind was the complex journey working with the Park seems to present. Just then I had a view up to the cemetery and was pleased to see the stones standing upright and holding formation. I certainly was proud to have been part of the 2009 cemetery project.
As I worked my way along the shore I could enjoy the field, but was aware that the winter storms had deposited heavily on this side of the Island. We always clean up a little here and there, but I must confess, much of the junk I had walked by over the last hour had been residing on Baker long enough for me to remember specific piles and pieces.
Once settled onto my favorite driftwood bench on the landing, I cast my eyes off toward the other salt pond and was struck by the sheer volume of junk.
That was the moment that I asked myself the question with which I often badger my children: "If not you, WHO; and if not now, WHEN?"
Clearly I was the WHO, and WHEN was now. Keepers of Baker needed to stand committed to keeping the island clean. Baker Shoreline Cleanup Initiative was born. I spent an hour gathering up large blocks of blue foam. The rest of the summer became a blur of lobster traps strapped to backpacks, long chains of buoys and endless three-mil contractor bags.
Some of our goals may shift, but (sadly) there will always be trash, and we shall stand together and gather it!]]>