Maine Travel Stories And Homesick Sailors

This Maine travel story was written years ago during my time on the Harvey Gamage

Do Lighthouses Miss Their Sailors?

Portland, Maine

Planted at the rocky edge of the Atlantic Ocean, the lighthouse stands at the edge of the cliff as crashing waves press up against the base of her tall tower. Even in her great majesty and grace, she never budges despite the rough and persistent sea.

Wrapping my warm, burly coat tightly around my waist, I see a little sailboat depart from its harbor and head farther out to sea. Her tiny sails puffed out as the winds carry her over the white caps and towards the sunrise. My mournful lighthouse has no control over where her little sailboat wonders off to despite her warnings of dangerous rocks and unforgiving sea.

She cannot cease her little boat from leaving to explore the sea. Nevertheless, she tries with her constant beam of light to remind her little sailor that the world can be new, but the world can also be daunting and unforgiving

Soon the white sails disappear into the horizon and the only hope for this tall, strong lighthouse is to pray that her little boat finds other powerful, protective lighthouses in the little sailboat’s path to guide and keep her safe. Just as she has done so well for so many years.

Sitting at the rocky shore of this mighty lighthouse, I grow teary eyed as I watch her say goodbye to her little sailboat. Moving to Maine in 2019, I found my lighthouses. People who had looked out for me and opened up their home to me. But none as great and grand as the two lighthouses I got to come back home to in the comforts of Idaho that summer. In loving memory to the best Dad any kid could ever ask for.

This Maine travel story was written years ago during my time on the Harvey Gamage.