I grew up on a peninsula, surrounded on three sides by the waters of Middle River, in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, so in a sense I was born with water in my veins. And growing up, all of my childhood summer vacations were spent at one beach or another. Whether it was Virginia Beach, the Outer Banks of North Carolina, or Myrtle Beach in South Carolina, our family headed for the salty sanctuary of the Atlantic Ocean.
As a result, I could not help imagining what it must be like to live at the beach year round. So when I took a gap year (and a half) between my junior and senior years of college, I joined a friend of mine for an unforgettable summer on Cape Cod in Massachusetts. And Linda and I later celebrated our fifth anniversary with a return trip to Cape Cod and the islands of Nantucket and Martha’s Vineyard.
Suffice it to say that New England beaches in particular beckoned to us once we sold our house in Florida a decade ago. So, we headed back to Nantucket for the winter of our radical sabbatical before finally moving here to the coast of Maine a half dozen years ago. And of course, we landed here at the Marshall Point lighthouse in Port Clyde a couple of years ago, fulfilling our lifelong dream of living in a cottage on the coast.
Smitten by the sea as I am, I love reading about other people’s shared affinity for the salt life and am making a point of it this summer. Thus, I recently reread the bestselling book A Year by the Sea by Joan Anderson, in which she writes about her cottage on Cape Cod: “I’m thinking, as I sit here and drink in the scene, how little it takes to get by, how simple life really can be, how pleasant to think only of necessities, eliminating the luxuries. Just now I recognize that this is everything I want—this is home. The Cape is where I belong, where I must stay.”
Even closer to home, I came across this vignette about our village of Port Clyde by Sandy Lang in Maine magazine: “When we leave Port Clyde, passing through the shingled village once more, I consider its comfortable appeal. The beauty in Port Clyde is what there is, and what there isn’t. No chain stores, no stoplights, but boats in motion between islands, and weathered wood houses, rocks, and fir trees, set against the water and sky—a working waterfront and fishing village scene to walk into.” And it has become our seaside haven.
So when it came time to celebrate our anniversary last weekend we did not even venture off the Saint George peninsula, which Port Clyde is at the end of. Instead, we savored a hearty breakfast at the general store’s Port Kitchen and an awesome supper with friends at the adjacent Dip Net on the harbor docks. And while our beaches here are not of the typical sandy variety, we rather enjoy our rocky coastline (as pictured above). So from one peninsula to another, I have come full circle to live at a place on the coast that satisfies my soul, simply.