This is the first in a series of articles on working waterfronts. Future stories will address private solutions, public solutions, and state and local planning.
Whose “working waterfront” is it? The answers, from fishermen, marina managers, tugboat captains, oil companies, ferry terminal employees, sea kayak guides and most others is “it’s ours!”
Everyone requiring access to the water for his or her livelihood can provide a definitive answer, but they’ll most likely have something different in mind.
The late George Putz, a Vinalhaven writer who cared deeply for working waterfronts, once reflected, “at the outset, a working waterfront is all plain and clear. There is a harbor with at least some protection from the weather and sea, around which is based a small community.” This definition is wonderful to imagine but hard to apply when developing a comprehensive plan for the future of Maine’s working waterfront-dependent communities.
Phineas Sprague, who operates Portland Yacht Services out of a former locomotive foundry, notes that “Portland was built to accommodate wooden ships and horse carts… 150-foot ships have been replaced by cruise ships and oil tankers… the waterfront reflects an evolution in transportation and economy.”
When a dockside fish cutting plant closes, in other words, the access those fishermen had to the water disappears, but new needs arise such as the need for reliable heavy truck access so that fish can be taken from trawlers and other boats, and driven to plants up and down the coast.
Putz put it eloquently if ominously: “Mariners live in the midst of their own archeology.” Marine industries must retain access to the water, lest they become relegated to the archeology of the coast. Following historical and economic trends and projecting into the future, it seems likely that Maine’s tourism industry will require more access to working waterfronts.
“I can tell you, in July and August, what working waterfront dependent towns are in trouble,” runs a common sentiment. “All I have to do is drive over the hill, look out on the harbor, and count the sailboats. When the sailboats outnumber the fishing boats the town is in trouble.” Such notions run deep in Maine’s working waterfront communities. However, this point of view is divisive and, when echoed by each interest group, serves to keep the people who most depend on the resource from working together.
A representative of the petroleum industry, Patti Aho, observes that her industry has similar needs to those of others – “access is needed to allow cargo to come in by tanker and barges, to harbors such as South Portland, Searsport, and Bucksport. Those who facilitate the movement of the cargo – such as pilots – need access to dock, to refuel, to restock and to board their vessels.” According to Aho, “a working waterfront for the petroleum industry is in many respects no different than that for other industries. The industry needs access to the waterfront in order to bring in the products that are vital to our economy.”
Jim Connors at the State Planning Office’s Coastal Program has an inclusive definition of working waterfronts that recognizes the need to prioritize “the sites or facilities providing the physical access to the sea… then the infrastructure of facilities and services needed to support commercial uses … and finally other facilities and services that are needed, but do not need to occur at the waters edge.” The Coastal Program is making working waterfronts a priority, highlighting the idea “that they’re as vulnerable as they are valuable.” (See www.state.me.us/mcp for more information.)
Sea kayak guide Ray Wirth and Natalie Springuel with Maine Sea Grant envision a working waterfront that includes some aspects of tourism, built on “positive relationships with harbormasters, fellow harbor users, local fishermen and coastal land owners.” Wirth, who operates Water Walker Kayaks out of Belfast, notes that for guides, parking is quickly becoming a serious aspect of working waterfront access.
Similarly, many island fishermen echo the significance of parking. Dave Thomas, a lobsterman with the Islesford Co-op, says, “a working waterfront is anything that doesn’t prohibit industry from accessing the water.” Thomas is part of a community-wide effort to ensure his town’s access to the water. The Town of Cranberry Isles recently took the expensive and controversial step of purchasing working waterfront (docks, storage, parking) on Mount Desert Island.
Bar Harbor, also on Mount Desert, offers an instructive case because of its long history of both fishing and tourism, and because it has depended on a mix of private and public access. Harbor Master Charlie Phippin says that the town has a town pier and boat launch and supporting services for three draggers and the local lobstermen as well as slips for pleasure boaters. In addition, fishermen have private access provided by the Fishermen’s Wharf restaurant.
But private rights of way are never permanently secure. Jim “Howdy” Houghten, an ex-fishermen from Bar Harbor, reports that recent plans for a hotel development near the harbor resulted in the closure of an access road into one of the only places in Bar Harbor to beach a boat. Here, a handshake agreement between a private land-owner and fishermen was not renewed when ownership changed; barricades to the area were erected and access was lost.
Robert Snyder works on community initiatives and waterfront issues at the Island Institute. Please send questions and comments on this series to Rob Snyder at rsnyder@islandinstitute.org