In early October I took a walk. Along the way, I chatted with Matinicus Elementary’s “ed. tech.” and a local mom outside the one-room school as six kids played on the swings. I passed Matinicus Island Rescue’s first aid storage shed, which now contains four (not two) backboards and all sorts of other helpful equipment, because we continue to try and improve our community readiness here, basic though it must be. Proceeding north up the island, I heard Jake Barbour’s excavator and dump truck working at the airstrip, widening the usable area, putting in culverts, laying a new surface. I turned west and headed through the woods on the recently rebuilt Maine Coast Heritage Trust trail to what we call the “west point high head,” because I had an editor who wanted a photograph looking back from the island toward the Camden Hills. On the way home I picked up my mail, and a UPS parcel containing repair parts, from the post office—the second post office carpenters from this community have built in not too many years. Turning up my road I passed the neatly mowed island cemetery, where a few venerable but dying trees had recently been removed.
This time of year, people are getting ready to leave. I have lived here for 25 years, and almost every winter, the cluster of neighbors who stay has grown smaller. There is no single reason for this, no great sustainability problem that can readily be solved; it is simply the individual realities of so many families coming together to make this island a part-time, rather than a full-time home. Each person has an individual, perfectly logical reason for their inland migration, none of which indicate dissatisfaction with island life: health care needs, changing personal lives, new babies, extended families, the search for better employment, the need to be on the mainland some of the time in order to conduct one’s chosen business or chosen art, and a fisherman’s desire—once he has made it to the point where he can afford this—to haul the boat and go on vacation for a month or two. All these cause many neighbors to make themselves scarce after Christmas.
Yet we still hear the worrying. “There are fewer people here every year. What’s going to happen?” I worry too.
The days of island residents rarely seeing the paved streets of Rockland are over; we know that, despite the way starry-eyed folks from elsewhere cherish the myth of the crusty “out-islander” who lives like it’s the 19th century. Still, as this year-round community shrinks, it’s not exactly fixin’ to die. How do I know that? By how much money and work we’ve been investing in this little town lately!
The improvements to the airstrip taking place this fall have been years in the making; islanders and pilots are all glad to see the job underway. In recent years, we have repaired and renovated the interior and exterior of our school, the exterior of our municipal office (the historic “Old Schoolhouse,”) and installed a colorful playground for island students and summer kids to enjoy. The old post office was rebuilt a few years ago into a very lovely work space, roomy and pleasant and smelling sweetly of new wood, and then, when an accidental fire ruined that building, another post office was built into the existing parsonage. The Matinicus Historical Society has recently been formed, and islanders assemble old photographs, records and artifacts of general interest (they still need a space of their own, though). The island’s recycling program has grown steadily in nine years of operation. Matinicus Plantation Electric Company, our independent municipal utility, is looking at updating the diesel engine technology to improve efficiency in the face of extremely high fuel costs—and yes, we are examining our options for renewable energy resources as well. There is talk of improvement to the harbor area, perhaps with floating docks and a ramp for our constant freight-handling. There is talk of a telemedicine unit on the island someday, or a visiting nurse’s consultation room—or maybe even a hamburger stand!
Money for these projects comes from various sources including private fundraising, local taxation approved at Town Meeting, and grants (which take a great deal of work to obtain). We are certainly not a wealthy community, but many who cannot offer financial support will offer labor, talent or time. It is obvious that the people of Matinicus do not mean to abandon this island, even if they cannot be here as much as they used to be, or as much as they’d like to be.
A few weeks ago I stood before a cluster of people in a Portland bookstore answering questions about island life. An earnest young man in the back asked, “What if all the families with kids did leave? What if nobody stayed the winter anymore? What if it really isn’t practical to live on an island anymore?”
“That could certainly happen,” I told him, “but we’re going to resist as long as we can. We’ve got to.”
Eva Murray is a freelance contributor living on Matinicus.