When Chebeague islanders have a piece of the past they’d like to see conserved- an old wooden cook stove, an antique cider press, ancient tools dug from collapsing barns-they often call their neighbor Chuck Varney. Varney, 46, rebuilds broken parts, removes rust and oils the old machines until they come back, gleaming, to life.
A ninth-generation Chebeague islander, Varney grew up building lobster traps and picking crab meat. He paid for his school supplies by selling clams he’d dug to his teachers on the mainland. These days, he cobbles together a living cutting and selling firewood and tending property on the island.
In some ways, he is a living repository of the skills that most islanders had a generation or two ago-Varney can build, grow food, fix most things, shear sheep, turn bowls and carve spoons.
Just over two years ago, Varney set his sights on saving an important link to Chebeague’s agricultural past, a prime piece of farmland that was slated to become a subdivision.
Varney was hired to clear the land for the controversial development. It took him just two days to realize that this land was special. “I’ve worked all over this island, and never fallen for the land,” he said.
Though the field had been long neglected, the soil was black and, unlike most of the island’s earth, free of rocks. The plot had been just one of many farms on Chebeague-the island once grew so much food that it exported produce to Boston-but Varney says the last of those farms went by the wayside in the 1960s.
When Varney came to the site on the third day, someone had written a message in the dew on his tractor. “This is sad,” it read. Varney started to cry. Then he decided to save the farm.
On a recent, brilliant September day, it was clear that Varney had made huge strides toward that goal: where a subdivision would have stood, Second Wind Farm is taking shape. A bumper crop of blue Hubbard squash peeked out from a tumble of vines. The tassels were dry on corn planted by local school children. Chuck Varney palmed a perfect red tomato and said, “This just seems right. I think this land wants to grow our food.”
As its second growing season winds down, Second Wind Farm has come a long way. Varney has reclaimed acres of fields, built fences and compost piles and recently opened a popular self-service farm stand. Dozens of school children have visited the farm and gotten a taste of what it means to plant seeds, use tools and harvest crops.
Despite these successes, Second Wind Farm’s future remains uncertain. When he decided to start the farm, Varney secured a three-year owner-financed deal with the landowner. He also enlisted the help of his neighbors; they formed a non-profit organization with the goal of raising funds to buy the land and ensure that it would remain farmland in perpetuity.
But last spring, the organization dissolved when Varney and its directors realized that the arrangement put limitations on the land that Varney was unwilling to accept. “They were on board to help me, but their hands were tied,” said Varney.
First, Varney realized that the non-profit organization couldn’t help him, as an individual, to raise money to purchase the land. “I didn’t want to just show up and punch a clock. I want to care for this land with all my heart,” he said.
Varney also worried that the type of non-profit he was establishing and the kinds of funding it sought would prohibit him from expressing his religious views. Varney, a Christian, said he doesn’t intend to prostleyze but wants to be able to talk about his beliefs, “My faith is what motivates me, and I’m not going to eliminate my right to express it,” he said.
Former board member Sue Burgess, who is also a trustee of the Chebeague and Cumberland Land Trust said she wished the organization had been able to help Varney, but respects his decision. “He wanted to remain true to his beliefs and he wanted this to be his project,” she said. Burgess had hoped that the Second Wind Farm nonprofit could have worked with the Chebeague and Cumberland Land Trust.
Varney and Burgess both stressed that the non-profit organization’s dissolution was amicable, and that he remains friends with the former members of its board. “Everyone wants to see the farm succeed. It is a wonderful place and he has his heart behind it,” Burgess said.
Though Varney has done a great deal of work at the farm, how he’ll meet the biggest challenge-paying for the land-remains to be seen. So far, Varney says he has been able to scrape together the land payments by living on hot dogs and accepting donations from a few of the farm’s supporters.
But, according to the terms of the deal he struck with the farm’s owner, Varney has to pay off the balance of the land next July. To do so, he hopes to get a loan by mortgaging his home, which he built 20 years ago. “It’s right handy to $190,000 that I have to borrow. That’s big money,” he said.
Varney isn’t the type to ask for help. If a neighbor’s car is stuck in the winter, Varney comes over on his tractor to help so that they don’t have to ferry over a tow truck from the mainland.
On Chebeague, favors like these are repaid informally; a load of firewood or a few pounds of fresh crabmeat just appear at Varney’s from time to time. Still, he feels that Second Wind Farm is so important to save, that he’s willing to make an appeal. “Financially, this is going to be a struggle. It doesn’t seem weird or greedy to say that if you believe in this special place, please help out,” he said.
As the growing season comes to a close, Varney is busy sowing cover crops and bringing in the harvest. Like any good farmer, he’s looking ahead both to the coming spring and the next generation. “If kids learn to love and respect a piece of ground, they’re not going to use it and abuse it or resell it to the highest bidder. I love this land, and I’m going to save it and care for it a while. And it’s my responsibility to teach someone else to do that too,” he said.