Frommer's Maine Coast

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The Best of the Maine Coast

Humor columnist Dave Barry once suggested that Maine’s state motto should be changed to Cold, but damp, thereby emphasizing its two primary qualities. That’s cute, but it’s also sort of true. Spring here tends to last just a few days or weeks (in its place, Mainers refer to mud season, the period from, say, mid-March to June); November features bitter winds alternating with gray sheets of rain; and the long winters often bring a mix of blizzards and ice storms.

Ah, but then there’s summer. Summer on the coast of Maine brings osprey diving for fish off wooded points, fogs rolling in poetically from the Atlantic, and long, timeless days when the sun rises well before visitors do. (By 8am, it can already feel like noon.) Maine summers offer a serious dose of tranquility; a few days in the right spot can rejuvenate even the most jangled city nerves.

The trick is finding that right spot. Route 1 along the Maine coast is mostly an amalgam of convenience stores, tourist boutiques, and restaurants catering to bus tours. The main loop road, single beach, and most popular mountain peaks in Acadia National Park tend to get congested in summer. And arriving without a room reservation in high season? Simply a bad idea.

On the other hand, Maine’s remote position and size often work to your advantage. The state has an amazing 5,500 miles of coastline, plus 3,000 or so coastal islands (admittedly, some of these are nothing more than rocks). With a bit of homework, you can find that little cove, island, or fishing village that isn’t too discovered yet, book your room well in advance, and enjoy coastal Maine’s incredibly lovely scenery without sweating any of the last-minute details.

Getting to know the locals is fun, too. Many are fishermen (as opposed to the farmers who colonized the rest of New England) and other seafaring folk, or the descendants of such, and today’s coastal Mainers—even the transplanted ones—exhibit a surprising gregariousness and a wry, dry sense of humor. (A Bait’s Motel in Searsport comes complete with worm-hanging-off-its-hook motif, and a tiny street in Somesville is called Fitz Hugh Lane.) And fishermen’s stories, of course, are the stuff of legend. Take the time to get to know a few Mainers, and you’ll smile a lot more.

Monhegan Island.

Basically, your main challenge when planning a vacation in coastal Maine boils down to this: Where to start? Here’s an entirely biased list of destinations I enjoy returning to time and again. Places like these, I’m convinced, merit more than just a quick stop; instead, they’re worth a detour or an extended stay of a few days to a week.

The best Authentic Experiences

Spread a Towel on York’s Short Sands Beach (Southern Maine): Bring the family and embrace the giddy un-self-consciousness of summer boardwalk culture. Sunbathe while a kid tosses a Frisbee over you. Pump quarters into Skee-Ball in the Fun-O-Rama arcade. Eat four different kinds of saltwater taffy in a day. See p. 78.

Do the Portland Beer Circuit (Portland): A taproom tour in the country’s beer-iest city is more than just a weekend of tasty hedonism—it’s a window into what the new Portland is all about: a championing of indie and artisan culture, a respect for the town’s working-class heritage, an embrace of Maine agriculture, and a thoughtful repurposing of old and often dilapidated urban spaces, most of which have outdoor areas. Plus a decidedly non-urban vibe that reminds you you’re in a town of just 68,000 people (with a taproom for every 3,000 of them). See p. 138.

Embed on Monhegan Island (Lower Midcoast): Don’t just pop off the ferry for a day. Get a rustic room on Monhegan (there is no other kind) and spend a few days learning its quiet trails, schmoozing with the artists and the lobstermen, watching the ferries and the weather come and go, and falling into the rhythm of life on Maine’s most enchanted island. See p. 177.

Exploring off-the-beaten-path Acadia National Park.

Get Off the Pavement in Acadia (Mount Desert Island): Acadia National Park’s elaborate trail network is a 120-mile museum to both MDI’s natural history and its human one. It’s also the best way to avoid the crowds and soak up the beauty of these rounded seaside mountains. Lace up your hiking boots and pack a backpack. Leave your car at the trailhead in the morning, and don’t come back until sunset. (Bonus points for doing this on skis in the winter.) See p. 244.

Pitch a Tent at Cobscook Bay (Downeast Coast): Camping here, you’ll be centrally located to explore both Eastport and Lubec (the two loveliest and Downeast-iest of Downeast towns). Watching the 20-foot tides come and go outside your tent flaps is the best way to become attuned to the rhythm around which life revolves at the nation’s northeastern tip. See p. 300.

The best Restaurants

The Black Birch (Kittery; www.theblackbirch.com;  207/703-2294): The rustic-adventurous gastropub that revitalized what is now one of New England’s hottest dining scenes would make this list for the to-die-for poutine alone. See p. 70.

Dennett’s Wharf (Castine; www.dennetts.co;  207/774-8538): You can’t beat the setting of this longtime locals’ favorite for seafood, perched over the mouth of the Bagaduce River. Hotshot Brooklyn restaurateurs took it over in 2022, made everything tastier, and changed (refreshingly!) little else. See p. 214.

Eventide Oyster Co. (Portland; www.eventideoysterco.com;  207/774-8538): A hip, contemporary distillation of the sea-to-plate heritage that makes Maine dining special. And among the most nationally lauded restaurants in a town crowded with foodie delights. See p. 117.

Five Islands Lobster Co. (Georgetown; www.fiveislandslobster.com;  207/371-2990): A classic Maine lobster shack, and you can’t beat the romance of Georgetown’s working harbor and the evergreen-speckled islands dotting the horizon. Or the freshness of the bugs, pulled out of some of the state’s best lobstering grounds. See p. 156.

An oyster sampler at Eventide.

Musette (Kennebunkport; www.musettebyjc.com;  207/204-0707): Elevated comfort food from a celebrated chef who traded white tablecloths for a chill community-gathering place in one of southern Maine’s last working fishing towns. See p. 98.

Leeward (Portland; www.leewardmaine.com;  207/808-8623): The fresh handmade pasta, commitment to seasonal ingredients, and breathtakingly gorgeous plating helped earn this hip downtown Italian spot best new restaurant accolades from the James Beard Foundation, the New York Times, and others. See p. 118.

Primo (Rockland; www.primorestaurant.com;  207/596-0770): Melissa Kelly and Price Kushner create culinary magic on two floors of a century-old home at this storied Rockland bistro. Get out your credit card for fancy treatments of foie gras, scallops, duck, steak, and more, as well as outstanding desserts and a long, impressive wine list. See p. 189.

The best Hotels

White Barn Inn (Kennebunk; www.whitebarninn.com;  207/967-2321): This venerable inn has been world-class longer than most people reading this book have been alive. Sumptuous but not overwrought, country but not folksy, one of the best dining rooms around, and service for miles. See p. 95.

The Press Hotel (Portland; www.presshotel.com;  207/808-8800): Rarely do upscale, historical, and fun all come together in one property, but this downtown hotel in the former Portland Press Herald headquarters really nails it. With clever nods to the golden days of newsprint (and great art around every corner), this place just has so much style. See p. 113.

Room at the White Barn Inn.

Lincolnville Motel (Lincolnville; www.lincolnvillemotel.com;  207/236-3195). A throwback to the midcentury golden days of Maine tourism—and to the values that road-tripping families could expect back then. Expect to pay super-reasonable rates for a self-consciously stylish vintage motor court. No other lodging in this book offers a vinyl turntable and a stack of LPs as a standard amenity. See p. 198.

The Claremont (Southwest Harbor; www.theclaremonthotel.com;  800/244-5063): A historic Mount Desert Island boardinghouse made flashy and fabulous, with fun common spaces (like a fish camp–themed pub and a Gatsby-esque game room) that nod to the rusticators of yesteryear. All with an unbeatable view of Somes Sound. See p. 273.

The best Outdoor Playgrounds

The Beaches of Southern Maine (Southern Maine): The flat, white-sand beaches of southernmost Maine are gorgeous and perfect for walking, tanning, kite flying, Frisbee throwing, and photography. Just watch your tootsies: That water’s cold. See chapter 4.

Casco Bay’s Islands (Portland): Locals once called ’em the Calendar Islands for a reason: They claim there are 365 of these rocky islands dotting Casco Bay, in every shape and size. (I’d wager there are more than that, though.) Catch a mailboat from Portland harbor and see how many you can count. See p. 132.

Playing in the surf at Long Sands Beach in York, Maine.

Rocky Peninsulas (Lower Midcoast, Upper Midcoast, and Downeast): Everywhere you go—from the Cape Neddick area to just south of Portland, from Harpswell to Georgetown, from Blue Hill to Boothbay to Schoodic Point—you’ll find long fingerlings and headlands carved of sheer bedrock. Once these were mountaintops high above an ancient sea; now they comprise some of the East Coast’s most beautiful scenery. Try some back-road wandering to find the best ones. See chapters 6, 7, and 9.

Sea spray pounds the rocks at Thunder Hole in Acadia National Park.

The Camden Hills (Lower Midcoast): They’re not huge, yet this run of hills comes with a bonus you’ll only understand when you get to the top: eye-popping coastal vistas of boats, villages, and islands. In the winter, you can even toboggan-run from crest to valley. See chapter 6.

Acadia National Park (Mount Desert Island): New England’s only national park is also one of the most beautiful (and popular) in the U.S. Its rocky, surf-pounded coastline is the main attraction, but don’t overlook the quiet forests and open summits of low mountains that afford stunning coastal views. Rent a mountain bike or horse-drawn carriage to explore further. See chapter 8.

Trekking the Appalachian Trail.

The Appalachian Trail and Mount Katahdin (North Woods): Well worth a detour inland, the nearly mile-high Mount Katahdin—Maine’s highest peak—has an ineffable spiritual quality, rising abruptly from a thick blanket of North Woods forest. It’s also the centerpiece of Baxter State Park, one of the last, best wildernesses remaining in the eastern U.S. The Appalachian Trail, which stretches 2,100 rugged miles from Georgia, winds uphill to the finish line here on Katahdin. The trail’s stretches in Maine traverse some of the most magnificent scenery in New England. See p. 322.

The best Small Towns

York Village (Southern Maine): Maine’s oldest settlement has plenty of history and fine architecture; it’s also got a set of beaches and a coastal trail nearby. Plus people just seem friendly here. See p. 76.

Camden (Upper Midcoast): This seaside town has everything—a beautiful harbor; great Federal, Queen Anne, and Greek Revival architecture; and even its own tiny mountain range, affording great hikes with sweeping ocean views. With lots of elegant bed-and-breakfasts, it’s a perfect base for explorations farther afield. See p. 194.

Castine (Upper Midcoast): Soaring elm trees, a peaceful harborside setting, grand historic homes, and a selection of good inns make this a great spot to soak up some of Maine’s coastal ambience off the beaten path. See p. 212.

Stonington (Upper Midcoast): Maine’s heritage as a fishing town is never more on display than it is in Stonington, the biggest town on little Deer Isle. You get a fair number of transplants here, too, who came for the views and stayed to paint pictures, paddle kayaks, do yoga, or set out for the little-glimpsed Isle au Haut. See p. 216.

Seaside Camden.

Northeast Harbor (Mount Desert Island): A single, sleepy main street anchors one of MDI’s best little villages. Northeast has a waterside setting, sure, but also a mix of seafaring locals and art-loving summer folks, giving it an aura of a place that’s still living life from a century ago. See p. 279.

Lubec (Downeast): The easternmost town in the U.S. is a funky fishing community rife with old Maine charm. Surrounded by conserved coastal parklands on breathtaking Cobscook Bay, home to some of the world’s highest tides, it’s also the gateway to Canada’s Campobello Island, the peaceful summer refuge of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt. See p. 301.

The best Places to See Fall Foliage

The Camden Hills (Upper Midcoast): The surrounding countryside is full of blazing color, offset by gray-shingled homes and sailboats. See chapter 7.

Acadia National Park (Mount Desert Island): This national park possesses some of the finest foliage in northern New England, all the more so because it’s set right beside the dramatic rocky coastline. See chapter 8.

Blueberry Barrens (Downeast): One of Maine’s least appreciated scenic treasures, Downeast Maine’s vast wild blueberry fields turn a brilliant cranberry red each fall, setting the landscape ablaze with color. Wander the dirt roads northeast of Cherryfield, or just drive Route 1 between Harrington and Machias past an experimental farm atop (of course) Blueberry Hill. See chapter 9.

The stunning fall colors of Downeast Maine’s Blueberry Barrens.

The best Coastal Views

Hiking Trails on Monhegan: While the village of Monhegan is clustered around the harbor of the same-named island, the rest of the 700-acre rock is comprised of picturesque wildlands, with miles of trails crossing open meadows and tracing rocky bluffs. See p. 177.

Sunrise at sea aboard a classic windjammer.

From the Deck of a Windjammer: See Maine as many saw it for centuries—from the ocean, looking inland. Sailing ships depart various harbors along the coast, particularly from Rockland and Camden. Spend between a night and a week exploring the dramatic shoreline. See p. 193.

Merchant’s Row via Kayak: The islands between Stonington and Isle au Haut, rimmed with pink granite and capped with the stark spires of spruce trees, are among the most spectacular on the entire East Coast. They’re inaccessible by motorboat but wonderful to explore by sea kayak. Some outfitters even offer overnight camping trips on the islands. See p. 221.

Acadia’s Park Loop Road: Forming the heart of Acadia National Park, this is New England’s premier oceanside drive. Start along a ridge with views of Frenchman Bay and the Porcupine Islands, then dip down along the rocky shores to watch the surf crash against the dark rocks. Plan to do this 20-mile loop at least twice to get the most out of it. See p. 238.

From a Well-Located Rocking Chair: Views are never better than when you’re caught unaware—such as glancing up from an engrossing book on the front porch of an oceanside inn and catching a great sunset or angle of light on the water. This book includes many hotels and inns on the water. A list of the best porch views in Maine could run for pages, but it would certainly include those gleaned from the Beachmere Inn in Ogunquit (p. 84), the Black Point Inn in Scarborough (p. 110), Grey Havens on Georgetown Island (p. 154), East Wind Inn in Tenant’s Harbor (p. 186), the Samoset Resort outside Rockport (p. 186), Aragosta at Goose Cove on Deer Isle (p. 217), and the Claremont in Southwest Harbor (p. 273).

The best Destinations for Families

York Beach (Southern Maine): This beach town is actually a set of three towns; head for Short Sands with the kids, where they can watch a taffy-pulling machine, play video games in an arcade, ogle seashells in a trinket shop, or scarf cotton candy at a small amusement park. The Long Sands section is ideal for tanning, Frisbee tossing, or kite flying; nearby is Nubble Light (a scenic lighthouse) and a kid-friendly ice-cream shop. See p. 78.

Old Orchard Beach (Southern Maine): This place has sort of a carnival atmosphere—there are French fries, hot dogs, and fried dough galore. Though it might be a bit much for stodgy adults who can’t embrace the pure camp, the kids will probably love it. See p. 140.

Freeport (Lower Midcoast). Strolling outlet malls isn’t every family’s cup of tea, but there’s no denying Freeport’s allure. A lot of it owes to the pull of the sprawling L.L.Bean campus, where outdoor concerts, lawn games, trout ponds, and one seriously ginormous boot manage to charm parents and kids who have no intention of shopping (although there are about a half-dozen Bean stores and nearly a whole floor dedicated to kids’ outdoor wear). Hit the surrounding shops if you like, or skip them in favor of the lobster shacks and land-trust trails that feel a world away from the retail district. See p. 144.

Monhegan Island (Lower Midcoast): The mailboat from Port Clyde out to Monhegan is intriguing, the inns are a rustic overnight adventure, and the smallish island’s scale is perfect for kids to explore, especially kids in the, say, 8- to 12-year-old range. See p. 177.

The wooden pier at Old Orchard Beach.

The best Places to Rediscover the Past

Sabbathday Lake Shaker Community (New Gloucester): The last of the active Shaker communities in the nation, this was the only one that voted to accept new converts rather than die out. The 1,900-acre farm about 45 minutes outside of Portland has a number of exceptional buildings, including some from the 18th century. Visitors can view examples of Shaker craftsmanship and buy herbs to bring home. See p. 142.

Mount Desert Island & Bar Harbor (Mount Desert Island): In the mid-1800s, America launched a love affair with nature and never looked back. See where it started, here amid surf-wracked rocks, where some of the nation’s most affluent families erected vacation cottages with bedrooms by the dozen. The area still offers lessons on how to design with nature as an accomplice rather than an adversary. See chapter 8.

Touring the historic buildings of Strawbery Banke, in Portsmouth, New Hampshire.

Portsmouth (New Hampshire): This salty coastal city also happens to possess some of the most impressive historic homes in all New England. Start at Strawbery Banke, a 10-acre compound of 42 historic buildings, then visit some of the other grand homes in the surrounding neighborhoods. See p. 309.

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The Maine Coast in Context

Understood in simple terms, the Maine coast consists of three regions: Southern Maine is the epitome of Vacationland, beachy and busy, and sometimes wryly nicknamed northern Massachussetts. The midcoast is more rugged, a mix of working waterfronts and yachty harbor towns. Downeast, as the most northeasterly stretches are known, is a string of bootstrap fishing villages and weather-beaten coves—the still-salty real Maine, to hear some tell it. The truth is that it’s all real Maine, but broadly speaking, as you head north and east, the gourmet cuisine, museums and theaters, and luxury inns of the southern coast gradually give way to fish shacks, roadhouses, and tumbledown cottages.

Maine’s legendary aloofness is important to keep in mind when visiting the area, because getting to know the region requires equal amounts of patience and persistence. New England doesn’t wear its attractions on its sleeve. It keeps its best destinations hidden in valleys and down the side streets of small villages. Your most memorable experience might be cracking open a boiled lobster at a roadside lobster pound marked by a scrawled paper sign, or exploring a cobblestoned alley that’s not even on Google Maps. There’s no Disneyland or Eiffel Tower here. This coast is the sum of dozens of smaller attractions; it resists being defined by a few big ones.

Of course, the natural elements here—the wind, the soft hazy light, the shining or roiling seas—always seem to have the greatest draw on the traveler. Rejuvenating as these elements are, they are also capricious. You’re as likely to get a blue-sky day when the islands sparkle like coins in the harbor as you are 3 days of fog and spitting rain or snow. Maybe both in the same week. Attempting to understand this weather—just like trying to explore the coast as a regular tourist, hitting attraction after attraction—is pointless. It’s better to just let the mood of each day catch you, cycling or driving a back road in search of something you’ve never seen before (a byway, an old house, a handmade sign advertising

pies

). Or, if the weather’s really nasty, stay inside and do crossword puzzles; paint a watercolor; listen to the Red Sox on the local radio station. Now you’re getting the real Maine.

Some writers believe Maine’s character is still heavily influenced by Calvinism, by such ideas as nothing can change my fate and hard work is the only virtue. It’s hard not to agree, but Mainers aren’t completely stone-faced—wonderful characters, smiles, and stories are found in abundance here. You don’t need to expect rock-hard mattresses and tasteless meals, either; as these pages demonstrate, spas, luxe country inns, and restaurants serving Paris-level meals have arrived on the coastal Maine scene. Be sure to visit these upscale places, but also set aside time to spend rocking in a chair on a simple inn porch, or wandering a breezy beach path unhurriedly. You’ll be glad you did.

The Maine Coast

The Maine Coast Today

You might be on Monhegan Island, or traveling Downeast along Route 1. You’ll see a few houses and a few people. A store. A pickup truck. And you’ll wonder, What do these people do to earn a living, anyway?

As recently as a few decades ago, the answer was almost always this: living off the land and water. They might have fished, harvested their own woodlots, or managed gravel pits, but work here usually fell into a category that was awfully close to that of survival. Of course, many still do three jobs, but hardscrabble work is no longer the only game in town. Today a coastal Mainer just as likely might be a New Yorker editor, a farmer who grows organic produce for gourmet restaurants, or a financial consultant who handles his clients by Zoom and e-mail. And you’ll find lots of folks whose livelihood depends on tourism, whether it’s the lone tour guide, the high school kid working the local T-shirt shop, or the tow-truck driver hauling fancy cars around Mount Desert Island after they break down.

This change in the economy is but one of the big shifts facing Maine and New England. The most visible and wracking change involves development and growth; for a region long familiar with poverty, a spell of recent prosperity and escalating property values has threatened to bring to Maine that curious homogenization already marking suburbs and hip urban neighborhoods in the rest of the nation. Parts of coastal Maine have come to resemble suburbs everywhere else—a pastiche of strip malls dotted with fast-food chains, big-box discount and home-improvement stores, and the like—in a region long distinguished by its quaint villages, green commons, and courthouse squares.

Weathered antiques shop brings a retro charm to roadside Maine.

A fisherman’s wharf piled high with lobster traps and colorful marker buoys is quintessential Maine.

While undeniably convenient, this is nothing short of shocking to longtime residents. Maine has always taken pride in its low-key, practical approach to life. In smaller communities, town meetings are still the preferred form of government. Residents gather in a public space to speak out about—sometimes forcefully—and vote on the issues of the day, such as funding for their schools, road improvements, fire trucks, or even symbolic gestures such as declaring their towns nuclear-free. Use it up, wear it out, make do, or do without is a well-worn phrase that aptly sums up the attitude of many longtime Mainers.

It’s not clear how this ethos will survive the slow but inexorable encroachment of generic consumer culture. You see it already, as chain stores such as Wal-Mart and Banana Republic proliferate in places like the mall-heavy sprawl on Portland’s fringes, the shopping outlets of Kittery and Freeport, and the Route 1 conglomeration near Bucksport and Ellsworth. In some of these spots, Main Street has surged back defiantly and vibrantly (in Kittery, Ellsworth, and South Portland in particular), but where big boxes proliferate, regional identity is at risk.

Meanwhile, the rest of coastal Maine is figuring out how best to balance the principles of growth and conservation—how to allow the economy to edge into the modern age without sacrificing those qualities that make Maine such a distinctive place. Development is a hot issue. Few locals have adopted the view that development should be allowed at all costs. On the flip side, few tend to think that the land should be preserved at all costs, either. They’re not all that happy about rising property taxes and land prices—unless they happen to own a chunk of the coast, in which case they’re probably putting up

for sale

signs as we speak.

Real estate prices spiked during the pandemic, in part thanks to a wave of urban expats from elsewhere in the Northeast, freed up to work remotely and attracted to Maine’s low Covid-transmission rates and quality of life. While Covid hit some sectors hard—lobstering, for instance, and Portland’s restaurant scene—tourism trucked along, keeping businesses thrumming across much of the state and making the pandemic hiring crunch the biggest hurdle for Maine’s economy. Hours and seasonal closures at many hotels, restaurants, and shops also underwent big changes during the pandemic, and staffing remains a challenge across the hospitality industry; double-check websites before heading out, as some are still in flux.

Think Maine is your little secret getaway? Think again. This coast has seen wave after successive wave of visitation, beginning at least 3 centuries ago when European newcomers tried to settle it, only to be driven off by Native Americans. (It’s also locally believed that Vikings may have touristed—er, pillaged?—the region even longer before that.)

By the early 19th century, the Maine coast had become well colonized and blossomed into one of the most prosperous places in all the United States. Shipbuilders constructed brigantines and sloops out of stout pines and other trees floated downriver from Maine’s North Woods; ship captains built huge, handsome homes in towns such as Searsport, Kittery, Bath, and Belfast; and merchants and traders built vast warehouses to store the booty from the excursions, as well as their own grandiose homes.

Then things quieted down for a while until landscape artists rediscovered Maine. In the mid- to late 19th century, they brought in their wake a fresh influx of city dwellers from Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, seeking relief from the heat and congestion of the city. The huge, shingled seaside estates they built lined the coast in places such as Bar Harbor and Camden.

At the beginning of the 20th century, a newly moneyed emerging middle class (a third wave?) showed up to discover Maine yet again, building smaller, less expensive bungalows by the shore in places such as York Beach, Kennebunk Beach, and Old Orchard Beach. The next arrival? That’s you, dear reader.

If America continues its hesitant embrace of the remote workplace, Maine can expect the throngs of new arrivals (and the real estate boom) to continue, exacerbating the age-old tensions between development and preservation. Will the Maine coast be able to sustain its tourism industry if it’s blanketed with new subdivisions and strip malls? Unlikely. The question is how to respect the conservation ethic while leaving room for growth, and the future of Maine looks wildly different depending on how that question is answered.

Complicating things, Maine’s economy has been unpredictable, with tourism on the rise but few consistent trend lines. The mid-1990s saw a slump, then another in the wake of the housing bubble, and recent years have ushered in a steady uptick in visitors. Winners and losers in other sectors have been both predictable (service jobs are up, paper mills keep closing) and surprising (small farms are booming, once-salty Portland shows promise as a tech hub). Through all the ups and downs, resourceful locals somehow found a way to buy and fix up farmhouses and keep their trucks running and dogs happy. Entrepreneurship has surged: Turn over a few stones, and it’s remarkable how many self-owned enterprises you’ll find along this coast.

One change is all but inevitable: Property values will continue to rise as city folk increasingly seek a piece of whatever it is that makes rural Maine special. Commentators believe this change, while welcome after decades of slow growth, will bring new conflicts. How might comparatively affluent newcomers feel about increased coastal development or growing numbers of tour buses cruising their quaint harborside streets? How will locals respond to all the new money—with resentment, or with open arms? And how much will the state’s priceless natural resources become stressed by increased tourism or development?

Vacationland. Credit late-19th-century railroad publicists with Maine’s unofficial nickname, which you’ll see on the state’s license plates. It isn’t the only Maine tourism-branding effort to stick. The Way Life Should Be was a marketing phrase focus-group-tested in the ’80s that’s since been widely embraced. More so, anyway, than Welcome Home, which Governor Janet Mills was widely pilloried for putting on a sign on the New Hampshire border in 2019. Another ’80s effort riffed on the state’s postal abbreviation: Come up and see Me. sometime. We don’t so much talk about that one.

Change doesn’t come rapidly to the Maine coast. But there’s a lot to sort out, and friction will certainly continue to build, one waterfront condo at a time. One thing is for sure: It will be interesting to see how it plays out.

Looking Back at Maine

Viewed from a distance, Maine’s history mirrors that of its progenitor, England. This coastline rose from a sparsely populated, inhospitable place to a place of tremendous historical importance in a relatively short time, thanks to its abundant natural resources (such as white pine trees for ships’ masts, and endless schools of fish caught offshore). For a time, Maine captured a good deal of America’s overseas trade and became a legitimate industrial and marine powerhouse—not to mention a center of literary and creative thought and even fine art.

Don’t believe me? That’s because the party ended almost as suddenly as it began, when commerce and culture sought more fertile grounds to the west and south.

To this day, Maine refuses to separate itself from the past. When you walk through downtown Portland, layers of history pile up at every turn: punk-rock wannabes taking selfies in front of fine colonial church steeples; modern buses rolling through oceanview parks; elaborate mansions by world-class architects that speak to the refined sensibilities of the late Victorian era.

History is even more inescapable as you proceed up the coast and off the beaten track. Travelers in Downeast Maine—today an overlooked, economically depressed area—can still find clues to what Henry Wadsworth Longfellow called the irrevocable past in everything from stone walls running through the woods to the handsome Federal-style homes built by wealthy merchants.

Here’s a brief overview of some historical episodes and trends that have shaped coastal Maine:

Indigenous Culture Native Americans have lived in Maine for some 12,000 years. The state was inhabited chiefly by Algonquins and Abenakis, who lived a semi-nomadic life of fishing, trapping, and hunting; they changed camp locations several times each year to take advantage of seasonal fish runs, wildlife movements, and the like. They also shaped the landscape through strategic burning and cultivating crops like beans, corn, and squash.

After the arrival of the Europeans, French Catholic missionaries succeeded in converting many Native Americans, and most tribes sided with the French in the French and Indian War in the 18th century. Afterward, the Indians fared poorly at the hands of the British and were pushed to the margins.

Today, there are four nations of the Wabanaki in Maine: the Maliseet, Micmac, Penobscot, and Passamaquoddy. The tribes’ legal battles over unceded territory in the 1970s—shrewd and ultimately validated—set a template for Native land claims efforts around the country; today, the relationship between the state and the tribes is sometimes turbulent. Nonetheless, Wabanaki cultural and civic leaders have done plenty to shape Maine’s identity in the modern era, as have cultural contributions, from the birchbark canoe to ash and sweetgrass basketry to the Wabanaki languages sometimes found on signage next to English.

Originally built in 1692, Fort William Henry, at New Harbor in Bristol, was reconstructed in 1907 (see chapter 6).

The Colonies In 1604, some 80 French colonists spent winter on a small island on what today is the Maine–New Brunswick border. They did not care for the harsh weather of their new home and left in spring to resettle in present-day Nova Scotia. In 1607, 3 months after the celebrated Jamestown, Virginia, colony was founded, a group of 100 English settlers established a community at Popham Beach, Maine. The Maine winter demoralized these would-be colonists as well; they returned to England the following year. In 1614, Captain John Smith, of Jamestown fame, is said to have spent a Yule night off of South Bristol while exploring the Maine coast, at the spot now called Christmas Cove (p. 175).

Colonization began in earnest with the arrival of the Pilgrims at Plymouth Rock in 1620. The Pilgrims—a religious group that had split from the Church of England—established North America’s first permanent European colony, although it came at a hefty price: Half the group perished during the first winter. But the colony began to thrive over the years, in part thanks to helpful Native Americans. The success of the Pilgrims lured other settlers from England, who established a constellation of small towns outside Boston that became the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Throughout the 17th century, colonists from Massachusetts pushed northward into what is now Maine (but was then part of Massachusetts). The first areas to be settled—such as York, Kittery, and what’s now known as Cape Elizabeth—were lands near protected harbors along the coast and on navigable waterways, and colonization continued throughout New England into the 18th century.

The American Revolution Starting around 1765, Great Britain launched a series of ham-handed economic policies to reign in the increasingly feisty colonies. These included an unpopular direct tax—the Stamp Act—to pay for a standing army. Under the banner of No taxation without representation, disgruntled colonists engaged in a series of riots, resulting in the Boston Massacre of 1770, when five protesting colonists were fired upon and killed by British soldiers.

In 1773, the most famous protest—dubbed the Boston Tea Party—took place in Boston (at the time, Maine was still part of Massachusetts). Hostilities reached a peak in 1775 when the British, seeking to quell unrest in Massachusetts, sent troops to seize military supplies and arrest high-profile rebels John Hancock and Samuel Adams. The colonists’ militia exchanged gunfire with the British, thereby igniting the Revolutionary War (the shot heard round the world). Hostilities formally ended in February 1783, and in September Britain recognized the United States as a sovereign nation.

While no notable battles were fought in Maine, a number of forts were established along its coast—first for the purpose of defending the British from the French, and then for the purpose of defending the new America from, well, the British. Many of these forts remain well preserved today, as state parks. Kittery’s Fort McClary was garrisoned during the Revolutionary War; on the Pemaquid Peninsula, the Colonial Pemaquid State Historic Site (p. 175) has a replica of a circa-1692 fort (the replica itself is more than a century old).

Farming & Trade As the new republic matured, economic growth in New England followed two tracks. Residents of inland communities survived by farming and trading in furs. On the Maine coast, however, boatyards sprang up anywhere there was a good anchorage, and ship captains made tidy fortunes trading lumber for sugar and rum in the Caribbean. Maine-ported ships could be encountered everywhere around the globe. Entire towns such as Searsport (p. 206), Thomaston, and Bath (p. 153) developed almost solely as exclusive (at the time) hometowns for shipbuilders and the sea captains who stayed at sea for long months on these difficult journeys; many of their homes contained distinctive widow’s walks, from which wives could watch for their husbands’ returns.

The growth of the railroad in the mid-19th century was another boon. The train opened up much of the coast to trade by connecting Maine with Boston. The rail lines allowed local resources—such as timber from the Maine woods, floated downriver to the coast via log drives—to be much more easily shipped to markets to the south.

Industry Maine’s Industrial Revolution found seed around the time of the embargo of 1807. Barred from importing English fabrics, New Englanders simply pulled up their bootstraps and built their own textile mills. Other common household products were also manufactured domestically, especially shoes. Coastal towns such as Biddeford, Saco, and Topsham became centers of textile and shoe production. Today, however, industry no longer plays the prominent role it once did here—manufacturing first moved to the South, then overseas.

Tourism In the mid– and late 19th century, Mainers discovered a new cash crop: the tourist. All along the Eastern Seaboard, it became fashionable for the gentry and eventually the working class to set out for excursions to the mountains and the shore. Aided by the dramatic paintings of the Hudson River School painters, Acadia and the Downeast coast were suddenly lifted by a tide of summer visitors; this tourism wave crested in the 1890s in Bar Harbor. Several grand resort hotels from tourism’s golden era, like Southport’s Newagen Seaside Inn (p. 166) and Rockland’s Samoset Resort (p. 186), still host summer travelers in the area.

Economic Downturn While the railways helped Maine to thrive in the mid–19th century, the train played an equally central role in undermining its prosperity. The driving of the Golden Spike in 1869 in Utah, linking America’s Atlantic and Pacific coasts by rail, was heard loud and clear in Maine, and it had a discordant ring. Transcontinental rail meant manufacturers could ship goods from the fertile Great Plains and California to faraway markets; the coastal shipping trade was dealt a fatal blow. Tourists, too, began to set their sights on the suddenly accessible Rockies and other stirring sites in the West.

Beginning in the late 19th century, Maine lapsed into an extended economic slumber. Families commonly walked away from their farmhouses (there was no market for resale) and set off for regions with more promising opportunities. The abandoned, decaying farmhouse became almost an icon for the Maine coast, and vast tracts of farmland were reclaimed by forest. With the rise of the automobile, the grand resorts further succumbed, and many closed their doors as inexpensive motels siphoned off their business.

Boom Times During the last 2 decades of the 20th century, much of Maine rode an unexpected wave of prosperity. A massive real-estate boom shook the region in the 1980s, driving land prices sky-high as prosperous buyers from New York and Boston acquired vacation homes or retired to the most alluring areas. In the 1990s, the rise of the high-tech industry also sent ripples from Boston north into Maine. Tourism rebounded as harried urbanites of the Eastern Seaboard opted for shorter, more frequent vacations closer to home.

Travelers to more remote regions, however, will discover that some communities never benefited from this boom; they’re still waiting to rebound from the early-20th-century economic downturn. Especially hard hit have been places such as Downeast Maine, where many residents still depend on local resources—lobsters, fish, farmland, maybe a bed-and-breakfast or crafts business on the side—to eke out a living. And, remarkably, it still works.

Coastal Maine Art & Architecture

Architecture You can often trace the evolution of a place by its architecture, as styles evolve from basic structures to elaborate mansions. The primer below should help you with basic identification.

Colonial (1600–1700): The New England house of the 17th century was a simple, boxy affair, often covered in shingles or rough clapboards. Don’t look for ornamentation; these homes were designed for basic shelter from the elements, and are often marked by prominent stone chimneys.

Georgian (1700–1800): Ornamentation comes into play in the Georgian style, which draws heavily on classical symmetry. Georgian buildings were in vogue in England at the time and were embraced by affluent colonists. Look for Palladian windows, formal pilasters, and elaborate projecting pediments. Portsmouth, New Hampshire (p. 309), has abundant examples of later Georgian styles.

Federal (1780–1820): Federal homes (sometimes called Adams homes) may best represent the New England ideal. Spacious yet austere, they are often rectangular or square, with low-pitched roofs and little ornamentation on the front, although carved swags or other embellishments are frequently seen near the roofline. Look for fan windows and chimneys bracketing the building. In Maine, excellent Federal-style homes are found throughout the region in towns such as Kennebunkport, Bath, and Brunswick (see chapter 6).

Greek Revival (1820–60) and Gothic Revival (1840–80): These two styles—Greek Revival with its columned porticoes and triangular pediments, Gothic Revival with its mock turrets and castellations—didn’t catch on in Maine as they did in other parts of the country, although a few examples can still be seen here and there. Maine’s late-19th-century tourist boom, however, perfectly coincided with the rise of . . .

Victorian (1860–1900): This is a catchall term for the jumble of mid- to late-19th-century styles that emphasized complexity and opulence. Perhaps the best-known Victorian style—almost a caricature—is the tall and narrow Addams Family–style house, with mansard roof and prickly roof cresting. You’ll find these scattered throughout the region. The Victorian style also includes squarish Italianate homes with wide eaves and unusual flourishes, such as the outstanding Victoria Mansion in Portland (p. 130).

Shingle (1880–1900): This uniquely New England style quickly became preferred for vacation homes on the Maine coast. Marked by a profusion of gables, roofs, and porches, they are typically covered with shingles from roofline to foundation.

Modern (1900–present): Maine has produced little in the way of notable modern architecture; you won’t find a Fallingwater (one of Frank Lloyd Wright’s best-known works, near Pittsburgh), though you might spy a surprising modernist building somewhere on an enclave of wealth such as Mount Desert Island (p. 227) or Cape Elizabeth (p. 133)—if you can get past security.

Art New England is also justly famous