Everything is domed in Somes Sound. The tree line is domed because it is growing on a dome of granite. There are at least four domes visible out the pilothouse windows. Some are near and some are far. Some are islands to themselves, and some are part of larger Mount Desert Island (MDI).
The perimeters of the nearest domes are slowly highlighted as the tide recedes. Light colored granite becomes differentiated by its moss covered ledges and rocks that spend half the day underwater. The further the dome in the distance, the darker the green. Unless their rounded peaks are treeless and then they are a sandy brown. If the dome is close enough often hikers can be seen on the summit.
Carrie Rose sits anchored in Somes Harbor. It is at the northern end of Somes Sound, a fjard as opposed to a fjord. The ledges here still show the signs of glaciers scraping across the rocks 15,000 years ago. With my hand tracing the linear grooves on the smooth granite, I visualize the mass of the glacier grinding its way out into the North Atlantic.
MDI’s coastline and forest are littered with “erratics”, enormous boulders left in place by the retreating glaciers. There is so much geology on the island that its diversity is easy to overlook. That said, it is hard for a flatlander like me to get accustomed to the grand scale both in time and panorama.
August 31, 2026
At 9:05 AM I heard an eagles cry off to the west. I go on deck and watch as it slowly begins to ride a thermal up into the atmosphere. But I notice that since eagles eat fish, they do not gain much altitude before gliding off over the water.
To the NW I see two turkey vultures with wings outstretched turning circles and rising above the treetops. They need to rise higher to see or smell their carrion diet. With a few flaps of their massive wings, they climb out of sight.
Off Carrie Rose’s bow three cormorants sit on vacant mooring balls. While balancing they wiggle butts, fluff feathers and scratch an itch here or there with long downward pointed beaks. A few of their compatriots are in the water getting primed to decimate the harbor’s fish population. When things calm down and the cormorants vacate the mooring balls to fish, a great blue heron glides in. If I can be forgiven for anthropomorphizing, they, compared to the rough and tumble cormorants, are elegant.
Next the osprey fly in. They are territorial. First, they go after a low lying vulture who promptly leaves the scene. Then, despite the size difference, they take on the eagle. Osprey versus eagle battles can go on for a long time but in the end, eagles do not give ground.
Because of their ubiquitousness I almost forgot to mention the various classes of sea gulls. They are rapacious. No matter if it be one of their kind or not, any fish is fair game. They seem not to care if the fish falls back into the water just as long as the other bird does not get to devour it.
It is the first of September tomorrow, and groups of ducks have begun to fly in from the north. The first are nondescript fowl and I fail to identify them in the glaring sun. As far as I can tell, they could care less about fish and only relish bottom dwelling salad. But then a troop of mergansers land and they are definitely interested in the fish population.
Along with birds, Somes Harbor’s fish are stalked by harbor seals, whales and humans. Early this morning, I watch a small purse seiner leaving the harbor fully ladened with fish. Its stern was so deep in the water that I hoped the weather remained calm, so it makes it into a safe harbor.
Carrie Rose compresses time. It is what brings us back each spring despite the various hurtles that geriatrics has thrown at us. It is the best therapy in the world.
Chicago, IL
