Just off Eggemoggin Reach in the town of Sedgwick there is a rambling old farmhouse on land originally owned by an 18th century sea captain. The farm, which sits on Christy Hill, looks out on the sea a mile and a half away. In 1970, Philadelphians Marge and Lou Paulmier bought a run-down house, a collapsing barn and 20 acres for $7,000. Although they didn’t realize it at the time, included were 15 acres of lowbush blueberries that in the last 36 years the family has turned into a productive blueberry farm.
The first order of business was to repair the house and barn, which, the family assures me, were literally falling apart. With four sons and a daughter, the Paulmiers had plenty of help. Additional labor arrived in the form of friends from Philadelphia, where Lou Paulmier was a PE teacher and Marge a nurse at Germantown Friends School. At one point, an older son, Mark, recalls finding a rusty rake in the fields and it wasn’t long before the family realized they had bought more than 20 acres of land with a beautiful view of the ocean.
Lowbush blueberries are small, dark and slightly tart with a wine like sweetness. They grow wild, close to the ground and in soil where little else thrives except for weeds. Lowbush berries are less than half the height (6-10 inches) of the cultivated highbush fruit sold in supermarkets. They are superb berries, tastier by far than their bland cousins. According to the Department of Agriculture, Maine provides 95 percent of the country’s wild blueberry supply. Beginning at the end of July, and until the frosts of early fall, they are harvested throughout the state, from the slopes of Mt. Katahdin to the “barrens” of the coast.
Almost immediately the Paulmier clan went to work developing what was to become an organic (they have never used pesticides) blueberry farm. They soon found, however, that harvesting lowbush blueberries was very labor-intensive. Unlike highbush berries, the wild variety cannot be harvested by machine. Pickers must wait until the berries in a given patch have ripened before going to work with their short-handled rakes with long, thin teeth. A good raker develops a swinging, scooping motion that strips the berries from the bush in an efficient manner. The berries are then put in flats and winnowed, which is when the good berries are separated from the leaves and stems.
On the Paulmier farm winnowing takes place in a building called the Radar Station, not part of the original farm. For a few years in the 1970s the family worked in an old barn that was constantly in need of repair. When the family purchased an additional two acres on the edge of their property, the deal included a condemned radar station built during the Cold War. When Chris, youngest of the brothers, developed a more efficient method for winnowing by adding a conveyer belt, the machine was installed inside the old tracking station.
Paulmier blueberries have a well-deserved reputation for freshness. As soon as they have been winnowed, they are boxed and driven to Merrill-Hinckley, a Blue Hill market, who in turn distributes them to markets on Deer Isle.
Over the years the Paulmiers have turned their farm into a community operation. Friends, children and grandchildren are constantly showing up, happy to exchange the midsummer heat of Philadelphia for a few hours each day of raking and winnowing on the Maine coast. As another brother, Greg says, “It gives the day structure. You work half a day and have fun (swim and sail) for half a day. It is a good low-cost vacation.” Even winnowing, unquestionably the most tedious part of the process, frequently becomes the center for interesting discussions. “You get into all sorts of subjects.” says Chris. Kathy Paulmier, Chris’s wife, adds, “The farm is fun for kids. They play with other kids, they can eat their fill of blueberries and they are surrounded by family and friends.” Speaking of children, Greg observed that inner-city kids who were invited up to visit frequently had trouble going to sleep at night. “They were scared to death. It was too quiet. They end up going to sleep with the radio on.”
In a good summer the farm will produce 2,500 to 3,000 quarts of blueberries. Proceeds pay for the taxes and food for the constant stream of guests. “Twelve to 15 for dinner is normal,” says Kathy. “It isn’t always easy.” adds Marge. “Our taxes continue to go up and the [state] tests our soil regularly. Rain is a killer — there is a lot of sitting around.”
The farm has helped the family connect with the year-round population of the area. “Even though we are from away,” says Greg, “local folks see us working hard doing manual labor. I think we have earned their respect.”
Under a cloudless sky last August, my wife and I took our boat over to Sedgwick to spend the day with the Paulmiers. After providing us with a delicious picnic lunch on the shores of the Benjamin River, Chris asked if I would like to join them winnowing blueberries at the farm. Eager to see the Radar Station in operation, I agreed. At one point as we were sorting the blueberries that were being dumped onto the conveyer belt, Greg turned to me and half in jest said, “Harry, you ought to write an article about this.” After thinking about it for a minute, I realized he had made a good suggestion.
Lou Paulmier was a long-time colleague of mine at Germantown Friends School. Although Lou died in 2002, Marge and their children continue to work the farm on Christy Hill and to produce some of the best lowbush blueberries in Hancock County.