Family on Frye Island

Vacation time! Chris, Gabe, and I went up to Maine with my parents to visit my great aunt and her husband. They live on Frye Island, which is in a lake. Getting to the island requires a trip on a very small ferry. The area is chock full of the sort of lakeside summer camps that until now I thought only existed on television. The seasonal island community closes its shutters and moves out every winter. This - wowzer! - is their house.



Here is a view from the house of Aunt Nancy by one of their boats.



Fry Island is named after some fellow who supposedly jumped from this rock and swam to the island to escape from some angry Indians. Although it is illegal to jump from the rock, people obviously still do. (We watched the girl in the photo leap from the lower level. You would have to pay me quite a lot to do that.)



Here are four - four! - generations of my family picking blueberries and cleaning up beer cans. The cloths that folks are holding are for swatting mosquitoes. From the left: Uncle Phil, Dad and baby Gabe, Mom, Aunt Nancy, and myself. Since Chris was behind the camera, here he is in another photo:


We will be doing a few more posts shortly about Frye Island's fascinating plants. Stay tuned!