One of my favorite stories from when my dad cruised with friends in Maine. They stopped at an island in Penobscot Bay. The owner needed to visit a chandlery for some critical supply. My Dad felt the call of nature and asked a fellow on the dock for directions to a restroom. The gent pointed to a small shack farther out on the dock. My dad thanked him and ambled down the dock. After he was out about fifty feet, the local offered the helpful comment: "Don't botha to flush it."

A cousin of my wife did his anthropology doctoral dissertation on the people of Matinicus back in the late 60's. I recall that a special interest of that was how they communally managed their lobster fishery and other aspects of island life. He and his wife lived on the island for about a year and still own property on the island. He gained respect and trust due for his technical prowess and longterm efforts maintaining the island's generator. Interesting microcosm, people pulling together in an isolated community. I have been there only once, on my father-in-laws boat years ago. We got the anchor to set quite well, had trouble pulling it up the next day. Those who have been there know why. We had anchored ourselves to one of the mooring cables strung across the rock ledge forming the bottom of the harbor!

I still like the story of old Enoch Fowler testifying in court, saying that he lived down Bailey Island way. In answer to "Have you lived there all your life?"... "Not yet." Okay, it was made up for Bert and I, still good for a laugh.