I’ve visited 30 U.S. states and each boasts its own unique charm. Yet, few places jump out to me like catching a hooked bass on a warm spring day in Maine. Despite weathering my first nor’easter, I enjoyed the culture and fishing in this rocky, wet and green northern state.
Lobster Rolling Through Maine
When I craft an adventure, I hope for four things: interesting people, stunning scenery, delicious food and a solid tug on my fishing line. Maine delivered on all fronts, living up to its motto, “The Way Life Should Be.” On my journey through the 23rd state I was warmly welcomed, feasted like a king, fished inside a marine layer and explored up the coast from Biddeford to Bar Harbor.
Food, Culture
Let’s start with the food; I’m a sucker for seafood, especially shellfish. But chunks of lobster drowned in mayo didn’t sound appetizing. So, as soon as I deplaned in Portland, I had to try a famous lobster roll.
Turns out cold, flaky, bright, white lobster lightly tossed in mayonnaise and heaped on a toasted, buttery bun is pure mouth bliss. I found out everyone has a favorite twist on the gourmet sandwich. My choice is hot or cold lobster drenched in melted butter on lettuce and a toasted bun. Life-changing!
My culinary adventure didn’t stop with lobster rolls. I indulged in haddock sandwiches, clam chowder, scallops, crab cakes and, my favorite, oysters on the half shell. I went on a true seafood extravaganza, but blowing through and beyond my food budget was worth every penny.
Maine’s seafood comes with a side of hospitality. New Englanders remind me of my native Texans: hardworking, kind and witty with a playful arrogance.
Before I booked my plane tickets, I reached out to the Maine Yak Anglers Facebook group to ask for a loaner boat and fishing advice. Jason Gardner returned my query, offering two loaner boats and sharing a couple of his favorite fishing spots.
While I was on the road visiting pubs, restaurants and watering holes, I could always find a willing participant in conversation. I picked up more than a few travel tips once I was able to decipher the charming New England vernacular that replaces the letter between Q and S with an A. Even when I talked politics with a Mainer on the opposite side of the aisle, we managed to keep the conversation cordial.
The Storm
Leading up to the trip, I anticipated clear skies and pleasant temperatures for the full seven days. When I arrived, I received a text from Robert John LaFreniere, my salt fishing guide, informing me a nor’easter was rolling in and our plans would change. I had never experienced a nor’easter, so I didn’t know what to expect.
When I travel to kayak fish, I rent a full-size van to carry my gear and borrowed kayaks. I also camp in the van so I don’t have to pay for lodging and I wake up in position for each day’s adventure.
I spent the first night in the boat ramp parking lot. Sometime around midnight, I woke to the sound of rain pounding the walls of the van and echoing through the cargo space. I thought to myself, “I’ve fished in worse.”
In the morning, I crawled out of my tin box and met LaFreniere, a young man with a thick red beard reminding me of the Gorton’s Fisherman.
Robert was rigging up fly rods in a thick, wet fog. “We’re in a marine layer,” he said as moisture seemed to collect from the air on my rain jacket. It wasn’t raining but the air was thick and sodden.
I stuffed my camera in a waterproof housing and stored it in a dry bag. We launched into a skinny channel and let the rising tide carry us into “the Pool.” As we cruised with the current, Robert said the weather report called for a small craft warning so he planned to fish in a protected bay.
We paddled past moored lobster boats into a shallow flat. The monochromatic sky cast a grey light over the steely water making for moody photos. Shooting conditions were difficult; as soon as I pulled out my camera it was covered in water droplets. I could only fire off a couple shots before I had to wipe the camera dry.
My kayak drifted in the wind while I cast a large white swimbait across the shallow water. I watched the tide slowly rise and consume the bank. Robert said the depth increases to six feet at high tide. He promised the deeper water would bring striped bass to feed.
We fished for about an hour before my lure got slammed. I sat back to lodge the hook and the line went slack. I missed the fish. A few minutes later, Robert hooked up on his fly rod. Like a pro, he methodically let the fish take line and run while he worked to gain line at every opportunity. After a true New England sleigh ride, Robert landed a 29-inch striped bass.
We fished another hour without any hookups. Our clothes were soaked through and our bellies empty, so we decided to grab a bite to eat.
The tide was still surging into the bay through the narrow channel. The current was so strong, despite hugging the bank and paddling with all my might, I couldn’t fight the wish-washy current back to the launch. We gave up and paddled to a nearby park to pull out our boats.
On the way, we stopped at Docks Seafood for scallops. After lunch, we walked through downtown Portland. Despite being “the touristy” part of town, the dockside had a fun vibe. The small craft warning meant there was not a lot of action around the boat docks.
When I travel, I try to avoid the tourism dupes and look for the authentic, local vibe. About the time I had enough with the gift shops and T-shirt stores, I walked past an alley that looked a little less kept than the waterfront.
Robert and I found a little bar with a big selection of oysters. Then we wandered into a kayak shop where the owner gave each of us a small painting he’d painted that morning. I was in heaven when we walked into Harbor Fish Market. Surrounded by fresh-off-the boat fish, oysters, clams and live lobsters, I dreamed of living close to this amazing source of my favorite seafood.
After a great day fishing and exploring, despite the rain, I parted ways with Robert and headed north to join the Maine Yak Anglers group for a tournament on Messalonskee Lake. On the way, I stopped by the Maine crown jewel: L.L. Bean’s factory store. Then, I spent the night at a trailhead parking lot near Popham Beach State Park.
The next morning I wanted to take a quick dip in the ocean, but the park ranger pointed to the red flags flying over the beach. I settled for an icy-cold outdoor shower under a cloudy, windy nor’easter.
From the state park, I headed to Messalonskee to catch the last few hours of daylight and a few fish. After two days, the sun finally came out.
I started slinging a Whopper Plopper around every laydown and grassline. The plan paid off and I landed two decent-sized pike.
I knew Jason and I would fish near the dam the following day, so I fished the south end of the lake where I hoped to find largemouth bass and pike. In most lakes with both largemouth and smallmouth, it seems the smallies stick to the dam side and the largemouth get pushed to the inlet. I launched into a channel and paddled through thick, tall grass. When the channel opened, the water looked fishy.
My goal was to catch a pike, so I started slinging a Whopper Plopper around every laydown and grassline. The plan paid off and I landed two decent-sized pike.
I followed the inlet under a bridge and into an area with boat docks, laydowns and grass. As the sun sank, I started heading back to the boat ramp. Along the way, I spotted a large Y-shaped laydown. I cast my swimbait into the Y and wham, I caught a solid largemouth. I cast back into the same spot and the lure got hit again. After a couple seconds, the second fish slipped the hook but the tug felt good.
Tourney Day
Tournament days are always buzzing with energy. Participants have studied the lake, cleaned up their tackle boxes, bought a new widget that’s sure to help them catch fish, and devised plans A, B and C.
As I climbed out of my sardine can at dawn, the parking lot was clouded with excitement. After meeting Jason and prepping my kayak, I wandered around the parking lot talking to anglers and checking out their boats.
Most of the anglers had trolling motors and elaborate fish finder setups. One guy even had three fish finders screens.
To keep me competitive, Jason had arranged for me to borrow a NuCanoe Pursuit with a MotorGuide trolling motor. Sitting in the cushy seat, I hit the handheld controller and flew across the water.
Participants have studied the lake, cleaned up their tackle boxes, bought a new widget that’s sure to help them catch fish, and devised plans A, B and C.
I caught up with Jason and followed his lead. We fished shallow, we fished deep and we fished transitions in every direction using every lure I had on the boat. Fishing was slow. I managed to catch a smallmouth on a white spinnerbait. I first spotted the fish on my fish finder screen and then cast to the area and slow rolled the lure.
Jason was fishing hard, so I left him so I could take photos of other anglers. Using the trolling motor, I cruised from angler to angler. Everyone was focused on the fish finder screen, searching for the winning fish.
Toward the end of the day, the trolling motor battery died in the middle of the lake. I had to paddle the heavy rig into the wind a mile back to the launch. Eventually, another angler offered to tow me in.
At the weigh-in, I heard the guys who fished south beyond the bridge landed in the top spots. Other anglers found fish on the north end of the lake casting under boat docks.
My fishing license was expiring, so I returned the kayak and hit the road to Acadia National Park.
On my way north, I stopped at Fort Knox, Fort Popham and Fort Baldwin. The old forts were cold, empty concrete shells of what I imagine were once state-of-the-art structures full of nervous soldiers. For a state that has never been in a war, Maine has a lot of forts. I found out the forts were built to protect the lumber industry from the French. The relics of the past are fun to explore.
Acadia was a great place to end my journey. Most of the park is on Mount Desert Island. The island has four towns and several villages. Bar Harbor—the locals call it Baa Habaa—is a cute little town filled with restaurants, gift shops and silver-headed looky-loos.
I visited between the summer rush and fall peeper season, but the park was still jam-packed with people. To take refuge from the crowds, I headed for the hiking trails.
After asking a park ranger for the best hikes, I headed to Thunder Hole to watch as the waves crashed into the rocks. Then I jumped over to Gorham Mountain. For the next two days, I hiked and explored the steep trails and rugged coastline.
On my way back to Portland, I cruised down the coast making a few stops along the way. I spent an afternoon in Boothbay Harbor. After I hit the public shower, I walked the town streets where every building is probably older than anything back home in Colorado.
I stopped for grub. As I ate lunch, I looked out the restaurant window to the bay where the oysters on my plate were harvested. Seafood doesn’t get fresher than that.
On my last night, I stayed at Thomas Point Beach and Campground. As I cooked my dinner, the ocean suddenly came to life. With the sun setting, I heard big splashes coming from the water. Striped bass were balling bait all over the bay.
I watched the melee and heard bigger splashes in the distance. Squinting through the failing light, I spotted seals feeding on the striped bass. I quickly checked my map for a road to take me closer to the action. Then I jumped in the van to chase down the wildlife.
I found a road that carried me down the coast. When I got close, I parked on the side of the road and bushwacked through the thick forest. In Maine, you can walk through private land as long as it is not posted. I reached the rocky shore in time to catch the last of the feeding frenzy.
The next morning, I had just enough time for a last lobster roll before catching my flight back home. As I enjoyed the rich, delicate decadence of the simple lobster sandwich, I reflected on how my perception of the simple sandwich and the Maine coast had changed.
Dustin Doskocil is a professional photographer who specializes in capturing the outdoor lifestyle. His favorite assignment is shooting kayak fishing, which has put him on the water with the biggest names in the sport.
Rain and wind and we caught fish. | Feature photo: Dustin Doskocil
