#05 - Bridging Time: Deer Isle & Eggemoggin Reach
Connecting Across the Years During Covid
Cathy Jewitt & John Meader, Authors
John Meader, Photo & Content Editor
Gus’s postcard #480 of the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge, Courtesy of Penobscot Marine Museum.
Given the confines of Covid, we weren’t able to visit contributors in person for this post—Postcards from Gus #5. As we connected with sources by phone, email, and Zoom, we discovered modern technology leading us to many rewarding conversations with people from a wide geography. We received a wealth of stories. What we had initially perceived as a limitation turned out to be an opportunity. - Cathy Jewitt
Artwork from a holiday card drawn by Eunice Utterback who lived in Sargentville during the 1960’s and 70’s.
Penobscot Marine Museum.
In 1960, John Steinbeck could have used a Phillips map as he began his travels in search of America with a trip to Maine. He promptly got lost in both Bangor and Ellsworth on his way to Deer Isle. A conversation about sideroads and shortcuts over pie and coffee with Gus in a local diner might have helped. (Gus would have ordered the apple pie with a wedge of rat cheese on the side.) We know Steinbeck did find his way to Deer Isle because he described his approach to the island two years later in Travels with Charley: “First there was a very high iron bridge, as high-arched as a rainbow, and after a bit a low stone bridge built in the shape of an S-curve (the causeway), and I was on Deer Isle.” [^1] One wonders if he grumbled at having to pay a toll before he crossed the bridge; little did he know that the following year the toll would be discontinued.
Detail from the 1940 map “Decorative Map of Penobscot Bay Region” by Luther Phillips, highlighting Eggemoggin Reach and vicinity.
Courtesy of Mary Jane Phillips Smith.
Gus’s travelogue postcard of the brothers’ poem “We Were Still in Maine.”
In the 1960s, Gus and the Rambler were making regular trips over the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge, stopping to take photographs of places on Eggemoggin Reach and the nearby islands. By the summer of 1966, many of those photos had been made into postcards, and Gus recorded in his sales-book many orders delivered to friends and business owners on Deer Isle. Prescott Eaton, for example, knew lighthouse cards sold well at his general store in Sunset; he placed an order for 1,000 lighthouses and 1,000 mixed cards on January 11, 1966. At the photo shop in Deer Isle, John Farrell sold a mixture of bridge, lighthouse, and aerial views. We Were Still in Maine—a card with an original poem about Maine place names—was a big seller. Nearby, at The Periwinkle gift shop, Neva Beck carried Phillips Penobscot Bay maps and a mix of area cards. On Little Deer Isle, George Aldrich sold a mix of cards; probably the best seller was a photo of the bridge taken from a comfortable chair on the porch of his nearby Bridge-End Motel. [^2]
When Gus was on Deer Isle that summer, how many times might his thoughts have turned to his father Fred, who taught school there in 1871 and boarded with David Haskell. Fred Phillips would have been part of a bustling island community then, or as Stonington historian Danny Oliver describes it, “Deer Isle in its heyday when stone quarrying was a booming business.” The high demand for Deer Isle granite, used in construction projects throughout the eastern United States, significantly increased the population of the island. Stone cutters from all over the world arrived to work beside locals in the quarries. As Danny tells it, “Many different languages were spoken, people didn’t always get along, there were fights and even murders; some families stayed. The Island has descendants of those families as part of the communities today.” [^3]
Granite stone cutters working at Crotch Island Quarry. Penobscot Marine Museum.
In the late 19th century most granite was delivered along the east coast by sloops and schooners. In his book The Wake of the Coasters, John F. Leavitt described a loaded stone schooner at nearby Crotch Island:
I have seen the Annie & Reuben with something over 200 tons of stone aboard, lying at Crotch Island wharf with the water flowing through the scuppers to the height of an inch or more on the main hatch coaming over the deck. This, in a flat calm. Loaded in such a fashion, the schooners resembled half-tide ledges when at sea, and it is sure the hatches were well battened down and the pumps going steadily the entire trip. [^4]
Stone schooner Annie & Reuben.
Penobscot Marine Museum.
Crew loading granite on board the Annie & Reuben.
Penobscot Marine Museum.
The collapse of Deer Isle’s quarrying heyday occurred as transportation changed from sailing vessels to steam-powered ships and trains. Steamers took over the work of the schooners carrying stone and supplies across Penobscot Bay to the railroad in Rockland. Using reinforced concrete for construction projects proved cheaper as well; orders for stone dwindled. The Crotch Island quarry, which was established in 1872 off Stonington, found business waxed and waned through the 20th century, but it’s in operation again today for a 21st century market.
Wooden ketch tied up to the old Crotch Island Quarry dock, 1982. Photo by John Meader.
Crotch Island Quarry showing granite slag along the shore, 1982. Photo by John Meader.
Historically people generally used the ferry to get to and from Deer Isle. The Scott family operated a ferry, crossing Eggemoggin Reach between the island and the mainland, beginning in 1792. [^5] Crossing the frozen reach by horse or later by car during the winter months was dangerous, to say the least. Dan Pease, former captain of the windjammer Lewis R. French, recounted a friend’s story of driving on the Reach:
My old friend in Buck’s Harbor, T. L. Gray, used to tell the story about how they, every once in a while, I don’t know how often it was, they would be able to drive on the Reach, yeah on the ice. I don’t know if it was a Model T, but he said they had gone down the Reach to the—wherever—wherever they were going to. I don’t know where. Where would you say, “Let’s go down and see so-and-so, we’ll drive on the ice.” And when they came back there was an opening (in the ice), and so he said that they drove back and they got some planks and drove back across the planks (over the open water cracks.) - Dan Pease
During the 1920’s and 30’s there was much talk about bridging the Reach. Discussions about bridge clearance, design, cost, and sources of funding prolonged any final decision about spanning the Reach for the better part of 20 years. The bridge finally came to fruition in 1939, culminating with a dedication ceremony on June 19, when many islanders gathered as the local high school bands marched across the bridge to celebrate its opening. Not everyone was thrilled with the new connection to the mainland. One islander pointed out that the island never had skunks before the bridge was built. [^6]
Building and dedication of the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge, 1939. Penobscot Marine Museum.
The initial toll to cross the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge was $2 round trip and $2.50 for trucks, which annoyed islanders and those who made frequent crossings. By September 1961, islanders had successfully lobbied Augusta and won removal of the bridge toll.
Eastern Yacht Club at Sargentville, Maine.
Penobscot Marine Museum.
When Steinbeck—and Gus—crossed over Eggemoggin Reach, they might have spotted a tall wooden ship or two sailing toward the bridge. Eggemoggin Reach has long been a treasured cruising ground for sailors. Without the swells of the open bays it’s a comfortable and safe area to sail. Combine that with the Reach’s gorgeous scenery, it became a prime yachting area more than a hundred years ago. In the mid to late 20th century, this also became the cruising ground for Maine’s windjammer fleet.
1-Schooner Mattie follows Mercantile towards the bridge, July 1959; 2 & 3-Mercantile passes beneath the bridge, June 1957; 4-Capt. Frank Swift sails the Mattie past Pumpkin Island Light in Eggemoggin Reach, 1960. Penobscot Marine Museum.
Gus photographed several windjammers in the 1960s. Twenty years later, by the 1980s, windjammer cruises were drawing people from all over the world to the Maine coast. Restored schooners carried passengers on week-long sailing excursions. Schooner captains and their crews had many adventures with their passengers, and soon stories began to accumulate. One of those stories highlighted a daredevil feat attempted only on Eggemoggin Reach and only by those who weren’t afraid of heights.
John crewed on Timberwind from 1980-83 and occasionally substitute-crewed on Lewis R. French for several years afterward. He had memories of the larger schooners that had to drop their topmasts to sail beneath the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge. On some of those boats, there was the tradition of crew members trying to touch the bridge from the masthead as they sailed beneath. If you were lucky enough to touch it, you were a member of the Bridge Club, a most exclusive group! All the conditions had to be right—you had to be brave enough and crazy enough to try, the tide had to be just right, the wind had to be light and steady, and the skipper had to be open to his crew attempting such a crazy stunt. There were only three boats tall enough to make it possible at the time, Adventure, Roseway, and Mary Day.
Gus’s postcard #472 of the Schooner Adventure.
Gus’s postcard #106 of the Schooner Mary Day.
Capt. Bill Alexander, 1982. Photo by John Meader.
Captain Bill Alexander of Timberwind recalled, “I do remember the Bridge Club, although I do not recall that the Mary Day was tall enough. Adventure was, and she had to slack off or “scandalize” her main gaff and lower the topmast to get under. I think the bridge was 85 feet at mean high water. Timberwind was 82' 6" to the tip of her topmast. I remember seeing crew members on the Adventure climbing up the main shrouds, masthead ratlines, and then the mast hoops on the lowered topmast. I know of only one person, Peter Davidson, who did touch the bridge. I did touch the bridge, but it was from my car. Guess that is not much of a story.”
Captain Jim Sharp of Schooner Adventure recalled that crew member Andy Chase also touched the bridge. [^7]
Diagram of the schooner Timberwind, 1982. Photo by John Meader.
John remembers sailing on Timberwind with Captain Alexander while following Adventure beneath the bridge on July 2, 1981.
“We all watched with bated breath as one of Adventure’s crew members stood on the masthead, holding on to the lowered top mast with one arm, while reaching up in the hope of touching the bridge. We watched the intrepid crew member take a little hop up to try to reach the bridge, which was still three feet above his hand that day. Everyone on board Timberwind gasped simultaneously. Although the feat was unsuccessful, it was a most memorable moment.”—John Meader [^8]
Recently, John contacted Captain Dan Pease of Lewis R. French about the bridge club. Dan was formerly the mate on Roseway, sailing under Captains Orville Young and Alan Talbot. When I asked him if Orville would have allowed such a thing, he quickly replied, “Oh my God, no!” Dan knew about the bridge club, but he was not a member. No one on Roseway was a member. He thought the bridge club was limited to just Adventure and perhaps Mary Day. Then Dan told his own stories about sailing beneath the bridge:
Capt. Dan Pease, 1988.
Photo by John Meader.
“The only stories I have about (sailing beneath) that bridge are that, of course we used to play it up, as to how close it was going to be. And sometimes we went further than other times and we tell people where the life jackets were and stuff like that, but we were pretty close (to hitting the bridge) without lowering the topmasts. We never lowered the topmasts, but we were pretty close, yeah and it made it exciting. But it was close because twice we hit our pigstick, our pennant pigstick, and once broke it off, hitting it. And Rick Miles picked it up. He was right behind us with the Timberwind and watched the whole thing and picked it up because it broke off and went flying away. Yeah. Yeah. It's a little sobering when you (actually think about it). So that was exciting. It was worth it, (laughter) just to tell the story.
Schooner Lewis R. French. Photo by John Meader.
“One time they had been doing some construction on the bridge, which seems like they're doing all the time. So we had a handheld radio. And Garth was my mate, so we sent him up to his bunk with the radio. And I called the bridge to ask permission to come under it, and we had quite a heated conversation, (laughter) and all the people on the quarter deck, including, we had one of Nat Wilson's sons, Nick, on board for part of the summer as an extra. He was a good kid, and he was really upset. Garth was saying, “You can't, you can't come through here today. We're doing construction.” I said, “We have to come through, we are coming through.” And we had quite a little fight on the radio. And we did go through. Well, we had a lot of people going. It was fun.”
Dan went on to tell another story about a passage beneath the bridge where he was truly frightened.
“There was actually one time where we were beating down through there and the yawl boat, we were having trouble with it and couldn't get it started. So we had it hauled (up on davits) and we beat through the bridge. And as was very often (the case), the winds are flukey right in there. And we got through the bridge and then fell off (the wind to pick up speed). And (we were) just barely making it against the wind and tide and all of a sudden we see that the gaff is above the bridge. We were to windward of it. And I’ll tell you, I still (he pats his chest to imitate a fluttering heart). I still think about that every once in a while. I think, oh, my gosh, that would not have been good at all. It was very, very close. Later that day, when we did put the yawl boat in the water, it didn't start, so that wasn't even there to help us. But we didn't come to grief. We made it! Being young and skippering that boat was kind of maybe a good thing, because, you know, (I) took chances that I wouldn't take today. - Dan Pease [^9]
Timberwind, close hauled on a port tack, circa 1985. Photo by John Meader.
Sailing is full of superstitions, such as not painting a boat blue because it’s Poseidon’s favorite color and he’ll pull it to the bottom of the sea. And throwing coins overboard to buy the wind usually buys you more than you bargained for. John shares his own Eggemoggin Reach adventure about the dangers of wearing a green hat:
I remember going down the Reach one day with (Captain) Herb Smith. He was subbing for (Captain) Bill (Alexander). It was September; it was typical like northwest (wind) and blowing pretty hard and we're going down the Reach and it was a good breeze, but we were sailing fine and heading out towards Jericho Bay. And this guy came up on deck and he had a green hat on, you know, stocking cap. It was kind of chilly, it was September. And Herb looked at me and he says, “Go grab that hat and throw it overboard.” “What do you mean?” I says, “I can't grab the guy's hat.” And he says, “Green hat's bad luck.” He says, “Just go grab it and throw it overboard.” I said, “I'm not, you go grab it and throw it overboard.” He says, “That's a captain's order.” And I said, “Well, you go do it, Captain, then.” And he teased me about it and we kept going (down the Reach).
Capt. Herb Smith, 1983.
Photo by John Meader.
We came out in Jericho Bay and because the swells were like (big). You know, how (it) can be out there, it was rough. And we kept banging those swells and we came down in one and suddenly a belaying pin on the throat (halyard) on the main(sail) snapped, and boom!, it (the sail) came flying down and it hung up about halfway down the mast, but all hell broke loose. You know, we're in the rough swells and the halyards gone, gone up the way. And so we all scurry about and get that sail down and all this ruckus. Finally, (we) get (it) all lashed up. And I come back to the quarterdeck and Herb’s standing there and he looks at me, and he goes, “Told ya.” - John Meader [^10]
Detail from the 1972 map “A Decorative Map of Upper Penobscot Bay” by Augustus “Gus” Phillips, highlighting Deer Isle, Eggemoggin Reach, Jericho Bay, Crotch Island, Pumpkin Island, and Dunham Point.
Cathy spoke with visitors who sought a more quiet experience on Deer Isle in the early 1980s. In a ritual familiar to countless travelers who re-visit favorite places in Maine each year, Beth and John Vetter recalled returning to a cottage on Dunham’s Point for several summers. Memories of descending the steep stairway to the shore, looking for sand dollars, taking photos of island scenery, and just relaxing on the porch with friends in good conversation kept them returning year after year. One of John Vetter’s photographs was the inspiration for a painting of the Pumpkin Island Light as it appeared in 1982. Artist Jeannette St. Germain, a Bangor relative, gifted the painting to the Vetters. [^11]
Above: Painting of Pumpkin Island Light by Jeannette St. Germain, 1982.
Below: Gus’s postcard #37 on the left, John’s photo from 2020 on the right.
Although Gus’s postcard of the Pumpkin Island Light offers an aerial perspective, both painting and card view the island looking toward the northwest. Considered together with John’s image from 2020, the three images present an opportunity to compare the appearance of the island in the 1960s, the 1980s, and 2020. Pumpkin Island, located just off Little Deer Isle at the western entrance to Eggemoggin Reach, is under 3 acres. The light, with a fifth order fresnel lens, was first lit in 1854. The first keeper was J. C. Tibbetts, who was paid a yearly salary of $350. By 1875, the island landscape consisted primarily of grass, rocks and small spruce trees; over 100 years later, the landscape is similar. The lighthouse was decommissioned in 1934. Today it is a private residence, and the owners maintain the 25 foot tall brick tower and keeper’s house. [^12]
Pumpkin Island Light with the keeper and his family, circa 1900.
Penobscot Marine Museum.
In 1981, John recorded a humbling experience in the channel near Pumpkin Island. On the same day he watched the acrobatic feat on Adventure as she sailed beneath the bridge, Timberwind proceeded to navigate the tiny passage between Pumpkin Island and Little Deer Isle. John wrote that Captain Alexander said it was the first time he’d sailed through there without touching the bottom. [^13]
Several years later, sailing with Captain Dan Pease on Lewis R. French, John also recalled being at the helm in a light breeze headed for another sail between the two islands when upon the approach the schooner suddenly came to a halt. Dan looked at John and said with a smile, “What did you do?” The schooner had slid gently onto a smooth ledge and came to a quiet stop. “We sat there for about 20 minutes until the tide lifted us off. We never did make it through the passage between the islands that day.” - John Meader It took John a long time to live that one down.
Detail from the 1970 map “A Map of Penobscot Bay and Approaches” by Augustus “Gus” Phillips, with added lines showing the passage of schooners Timberwind and Lewis R. French attempting a passage between Pumpkin Island and Little Deer Isle on two different occasions.
Although it’s cliché to say that no man is an island, our research on this particular island has brought together a diverse group of people, past and present, whose stories converge in this place. Gus once again pulls us all together to explore and appreciate another corner of the state of Maine.
Deer Isle-Sedgewick Bridge over Eggemoggin Reach. Penobscot Marine Museum.
Deer Isle and Eggemoggin Reach Gallery photos by John Meader.
Gus’s postcard #36 of the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge in 1966 compared to John’s photo in 2020.
Special thanks:
Mary Jane Phillips Smith, Gus’s daughter, for sharing family history and for continued support; The Penobscot Marine Museum and Kevin Johnson, Penobscot Marine Museum Photo Archivist, for image use, preserving the Phillips Collection, and continued support; Caroline Spear at Penobscot Books; Danny Oliver for writing Stonington & Deer Isle Then and Now and for sharing Deer Isle history; Leslie Clifford for sharing stories and memories of Deer Isle; Beth and John Vetter for sharing Deer Isle memories and loaning the Pumpkin Island Lighthouse painting; Capt. Dan Pease for sharing stories; Capt. Bill Alexander for sharing stories; Connie Wiberg at the Deer Isle-Stonington Historical Society for help with inquiries about Fred I. Phillips; Rhumb Line Maps for cartography; and John Meader for his photography.
Partners for the Postcards from Gus blog:
Sources, references:
1. Steinbeck in Maine
John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley in Search of America (Penguin Books F edition, 1980).
2. 1960s Deer Isle Phillips map and postcard orders
Leslie Clifford, conversation with Cathy Jewitt, February 25, 2021, on Zoom.
Augustus Phillips, handwritten notebook entries, collection of author Cathy Jewitt.
3. 1800s Deer Isle quarrying heyday
Danny Oliver, conversation with Cathy Jewitt, February 23, 2021, by phone.
4. 1800s stone schooner at Crotch Island
John Leavitt, The Wake of the Coasters (Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1970), p. 152.
5. Transportation transitions - stone and people
“The Year Steel and Cable Changed Deer Isle,” Island Journal 2014, accessed January 20, 2021.
6. Ice driving on the Reach and skunks crossing the bridge
Captain Dan Pease, conversation with John Meader, February 7, 2021, on Zoom.
The Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge: An Historic Connection to the Mainland,
DeerIsle-Stonington Historical Society website, accessed March 1, 2021,
7. The Bridge Club
Bill Alexander, stories recounted to John Meader, February 22, 2021, by email.
Captain Jim Sharp, “Captains Quarters - Stories,” YouTube, accessed February 26, 2021.
8. First-person account of Bridge Club attempt
John Meader, journal, entry on July 2, 1981, collection of author.
9. Windjammers and sailing under the Bridge
Captain Dan Pease, conversation with John Meader, February 7, 2021, on Zoom.
10. Superstitions and the dangers of wearing a green hat
John Meader, personal recollection by John Meader, 2021.
11. 1980s Deer Isle vacations and artist Jeannette St. Germain
Beth Vetter, conversations with Cathy Jewitt, January and February 2021, by phone and email.
12. Pumpkin Island Lighthouse
Pumpkin Island Lighthouse, Lighthouse Friends, accessed March 2, 2021
13. Eggemoggin Reach grounding
John Meader, journal, entry on July 2, 1981, collection of author.
For further reading and viewing:
Clifford, Candace J., and Mary Louise Clifford. Maine Lighthouses - Documentation of Their Past. Alexandria, Virginia: Cypress Communications, 2005.
D'Entremont, Jeremy, The Lighthouse Handbook New England. Kennebunkport, Maine: Cider Mill Press Book Publishers, 3rd edition, 2016
Dolan, Eric Jay. Brilliant Beacons - A History of the American Lighthouse. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2016
Leavitt, John F. Wake of the Coasters. Middletown, Connecticut: Wesleyan University Press, 1970.
Oliver, Danny. Stonington & Deer Isle - Then and Now. Skowhegan, Maine: Penobscot Books, 2019.
Penobscot Marine Museum Collections: Catharine Sargent Marston Collection, Carroll Thayer Berry Collection, Deer Isle-Stonington Historical Society Collection, Eastern Illustrating Collection, M. Elmer Montgomery Collection, Sylvia Wardwell Collection, Stubing Collection.
Sail Power & Steam Museum. “Captain’s Quarters: Stories of the Schooner Adventure.” YouTube video, 1hr.,18min., January 3, 2021.
Steinbeck, John. Travels with Charley in Search of America. Penguin Books, 1980.
