Month: July 2023

When we returned to Seguin after our day off-island last Wednesday, we were delighted to find that volunteers from Maine Island Trails Association (MITA) had, like elves in the night, visited the island and done a TON of work while we were away!

They used long-handled trimmers to clear brush from under the tramway, mowed around the concrete fuel-tank “cradles” dating back the Coast-Guard era, and assisted FOSILS volunteers in preparing the historic Donkey Engine House for re-siding.

In our time here as keepers, we’ve come to appreciate that preserving Seguin’s natural beauty and history takes a collaboration between MANY organizations and individuals. Seeing the results of MITA’s efforts that day really drove home the point: their team of nine volunteers accomplished in a few hours what might have taken us weeks to do on our own—if we even had time to get to it. Thanks MITA!

-Rick H.

I knew nothing of Seguin Island until my friend Eben took us (me & my 10 year old son) there to pick up a mooring for the night. On the sail out from Portland, we had our fingers crossed that there would be a space for us, considering there are only a handful of moorings for guests.

We thanked the stars for the gift of a mooring in the beautiful sheltered cove, hugged by a small cliff dense with evergreens, Striped Maple (Acer pensylvanicum), and Birch (Betula species). We swiftly shuttled ourselves to shore, secured the dinghy, and climbed the rocks and steps to the firm earth above the beach. 

The first plant I spotted was Jewelweed (Impatiens capensis), and I was so happy to see her! She’s a good friend to have around for many reasons. On the practical side of things, Jewelweed is an effective remedy for skin irritations, most notably from Poison Ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) rash. The second thought I had upon seeing her was, where’s the Poison Ivy? The two tend to live in similar niches – moist woodland edges or riparian zones. 

Jewelweed can be infused in oil and made into a salve, but because of the high moisture content, the oil can easily spoil. So another method for preserving the medicine of this plant is to blend the leaves and stems with a little water and pour the mixture into ice cube trays. These Jewelweed ice cubes are doubly cooling and soothing to skin conditions, be it heat rash, bug bite, or – as mentioned before – Poison Ivy rash. 

This is a plant I have a deep relationship with – let’s just say she spoke to me and opened me up spiritually in ways I didn’t think possible. So coming across Jewelweed felt like a comforting welcome. And then we met Lee, one of the caretakers of Seguin. Lee made us feel right at home, and she did not hesitate to offer to show us the island and the lighthouse.

We made the short hike up the slope, barefoot on the soft grass, and embraced by the shade of all kinds of shrubs, including native Roses (Rosa species) and Elder (Sambucus nigra), as well as herbaceous plants like Yarrow (Achillea millefolium) and Angelica (Angelica atropurpurea). Jewelweed continued to show up, and I kept wondering where the Poison Ivy was. Lee assured me we’d find it if we knew where to look. 

She took us to the lighthouse and as luck would have it, the sun was shining for the first time in a while and we got a spectacular view of the island from the top. 

After exploring we chatted a while with Lee and Rick (Lee’s partner in caretaking and life) about the island’s history. 

We stayed the night in the peaceful cove and I woke before sunrise to take in the beauty around us. From the deck of the boat, I watched Osprey perching in their nest and a paddling of 12 Ducks swimming around and then climbing the rocks. I listened to songbirds calling the world awake in their dawn chorus. 

Before the sun broke the horizon, I caught the Moon setting behind the tall trees on the cliff. I looked longingly up at those trees, hoping to get a closer look in the new day. 

I got my wish. After breakfast we set off to explore the trails around the island. We walked down to Cobble Stone Beach, observing plants, and scats, and tracks along the way. Then made our way back up to the lighthouse and helicopter launch to walk the forested North Trail. It was a relief to be surrounded by the cooling shade and transpiration of the tall trees. I was delighted to come across soft-needled fir trees and inhale their delicious fragrance. We even came across a little bit of Ghost Pipe (Monotropa uniflora) one of my favorite ephemeral medicinal plants.

But still, no Poison Ivy. 

I came to Lee with my question and she promptly brought us to a spot where she was working to diminish this rash-inducing plant. 

Ah, there she is! 

It might sound strange, but I consider this plant a friend. I understand why some would not see things my way. There’s a percentage of people who have a very strong reaction to Poison Ivy’s irritating urushiol oil. There’s also a small percentage who have no reaction at all, and the vast majority develop at least some level of skin irritation. Interestingly, Poison Ivy is used as a homeopathic remedy for rashes! If you’re curious to know more, the homeopathic preparation goes by the old scientific name for this plant, Rhus tox (short for Rhus toxicodendron).

Poison Ivy is also important survival food for birds, as the berries are very hardy and withstand the cold of winter.

I see Poison Ivy as a plant who reminds us to be aware of where and how we stand and walk. She’s also a protector of boundaries, in the wilderness and of wild beings. She thrives in areas disturbed by human activity. When she shows up, it’s Mother Nature’s way of saying, do not disturb. If you’re intrigued by this fascinating native plant, I recommend checking out the book In Praise of Poison Ivy: The Secret Virtues, Astonishing History, and Dangerous Lore of the World’s Most Hated Plant by Anita Sanchez. It’s a great read!

The sun somehow felt hotter after visiting Poison Ivy. We made our way down back to the beach and with gratitude, I immersed myself in the cool water of the mooring cove and swam away from the island to the boat. 

Seguin Island is forever etched in my memory, thanks to Lee and Rick and all of the life thriving on that beautiful rock. 

How to identify Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy is a highly adaptable plant that varies in appearance depending on growing conditions. You may have heard the old phrase, “leaves of 3, let it be.” The truth is, there are a lot of plants with 3 leaves, or, in most cases (as in this one), 3 leaflets of one compound leaf. One of the things that makes the leaves of Poison Ivy special is that the terminal (or center) leaflet has a longer stem than the 2 opposing or parallel leaflets. 

The other traits that differentiate Poison Ivy are variability and leaflet individuality. When you look closely (but don’t touch!), you’ll notice that each leaflet has a unique presentation. Look at the margins (edges) of the plant. In general, the leaflets are toothed, but some appear smooth or just have a wavy edge. Each leaflet has its own toothy-ness independent of the other leaflets on the same leaf. Like a fingerprint, no two leaflets are alike. 

Also, the leaves can be shiny, and sometimes not. They can be tinged red, and sometimes not! (The young ones are usually both.)

The berries of Poison Ivy are a light creamy white to yellow color, as are the small five petaled flowers.

While Poison Ivy does generally present as a vine, it can creep along the ground in the edges, pop up in the grass on occasion, and of course, cling to trees. I’ve even seen Poison Ivy that I almost didn’t recognize as such standing straight up amidst other shrubs, as if mimicking them!

She is a highly mutable shape shifter, and that’s part of the reason I love her so. Not enough to rub up against her, but enough to respect that she has a purpose, just like all forms of life on our home planet.

_______

Liz Neves is the author of Northeast Medicinal Plants: Identify, Harvest, and Use 111 Wild Herbs for Health and Wellness (Timber Press). She has been studying medicinal plants for over 15 years and leads regular plant walks in Prospect Park, Brooklyn, NY. You can find her online at gatheringground.nyc, on Instagram @gatheringground and on Facebook @gatheringnyc.

When I’m not being a lighthouse keeper on Seguin, I teach kids in the Seattle area how to build educational toys made from everyday materials like yardsticks, rubber bands and drinking straws. In the process, we discover all kinds of important things about science, math, history, art, and engineering.

So it was a pleasure this morning when the Carville family (Emily, Greg, Eleanor and Julian) came up from the Cove after spending the night on a REAL sailboat and built TOY sailboats with me! Eleanor, 11, and Julian, 8, used kid-friendly hammers and saws to design and construct their sailing vessels. Then they tested their creations in a big tub of water set up in front of the Museum.

Their boats worked great in our simulated ocean! How they’ll perform in the REAL ocean had yet to be determined!

-Rick H.

What do you do with three wet, tired kayakers who come ashore on a foggy, rainy afternoon? You put them to work!

Jack, Aiden and Bryce had been paddling through dense fog and rain for eight hours when they spotted the Seguin lighthouse and decided to land and scout for a campsite. They’d set out two days earlier near Falmouth, camped at Jewel Island the first night, and paddled nearly 16 miles (!) across open waters to reach us on Seguin.

After warming them up with coffee and hot cocoa, we put them to work fixing the illuminated lighthouse map that hangs in the Museum hallway. Constructed, I think, in the 1990’s, this marvelous visual display hadn’t been fully functional since we’d arrived. Bryce and Aiden , engineers by trade, and Jack, a carpenter, were the perfect crew for the job! They disassembled the heavy, framed chart, swapped out bulbs, re-soldered connections, and sealed the whole science-fair-project/geography lesson back up. Voila! Seventeen glowing bulbs representing lighthouses up and down the Maine coast are once again shining points of learning for Seguin visitors!

We couldn’t bear the thought of our helpful visitors trying to stay dry in tents overnight, so we put them up in the Oil House, where bunks were installed back in 2015 for just such occasions. By 5 am the next morning they’d paddled off into the fog on the next leg of their adventure. We were happy to learn a few days later they’d made it safely home.

And just this morning a hand-written note arrived:

“Thank you so much for hosting us on Seguin this past week!” wrote Jack. “I had a blast exploring the island and was grateful for a dry sleep.”

“Thanks for providing us with the classic lighthouse experience!” Bryce said.

Added Aiden, “You gave us the most comfortable island experience on a dreary day! Thank you.”

Thank YOU Jack, Bryce and Aiden, for bringing your energy, expertise, and enthusiasm to Seguin!

-Rick H

Foggy days have their charm to be sure, but when the sky is clear this place is mesmerizing!

When I first came to Maine to visit my sister decades ago, she was excited to prepare a lobster dinner. We stopped at a local fish shop for a couple of very fresh crustaceans. On our way back to her house we stopped along the coast and scrambled down the rocks so I could let mine go. When she plopped hers in a pot of boiling water not long afterward, she assured me that they didn’t feel anything. She enjoyed her dinner immensely. I don’t recall my salad.

A few years later at a Maine family reunion of course we celebrated with a lobster feast. I remember the hiss of them steaming in the pot. A delightful meal and family time ensued, but I was still uneasy about the prospect of being boiled alive. Could it really be that they don’t feel anything, or is that just something we tell ourselves to lighten our conscience?

Here on Seguin we watch lobsterman making their living, setting and hauling traps around the island. Good folks caring for their fishery while harvesting what they can, supplying many a happy eater.  We’ve enjoyed time with Captain Ethan in particular, a lobsterman who – among other things – provides weekly transport for F.O.S.I.L.S. (Friends of Seguin Island Light Station).

When family came to visit us on Seguin a couple of weeks ago Ethan supplied the lobsters. We rowed out in the dinghy to pick them up. I’d spent time researching how to cook lobster humanely, so I was feeling great in the whole experience thus far. From the variety of suggestions I found online there seemed to be general consensus on two key points: 1) put the lobsters in the freezer first, causing them to fall “asleep” as their metabolism slows, and 2) kill them quickly before tossing them in the pot by knifing them through the cervical groove in their carapace.  

My sister would have boiled them alive as usual but – always open to learning something new – she obliged me. We put four lobsters in the freezer and after about 10 minutes they were mellow. I split their heads on a cutting board…careful to penetrate both sides of the shell fully… completing the deed as instantly as possible. My sister rushed them into the steaming pot. It was brutal to be sure, but maybe more humane? A couple of minutes later we heard at least one of the lobsters flopping around in the hot water despite all it had already been through. Sorry man! 

It was a special dinner. Cousins from Connecticut and Washington bonded while tasting lobster together for the first time, almost communion style. Thank you, lobsters. Your lives becoming our lives in the sacred act of eating. 

How to cook a lobster humanely? 

Unless we’re made with chlorophyl we have to eat other beings to survive, be they plants or animals. Maybe the best I can do is to honor those foods in their living and in their dying. The chicken I buy at a grocery store has been manipulated since birth on the way to my plate. But the lobsters around Seguin live free until that moment they crawl into a trap. Maybe the best I can do is to welcome them to my body and my life, while I have it.

How to cook a lobster humanely? 

With gratitude, with praise, with thanksgiving, with honor, with welcome. With deep appreciation for the other lives that feed ours. With the knowledge that we too are temporary. With the hope that our lives likewise might nourish others. 

BTW – Next time I think we’ll go straight to the boiling water.