Belfast, Maine is a different sort of place. If you think of the stereotypical Maine coast, you think of lighthouses. It doesn't have any. Or, perhaps you think of shipbuilding...nope. It does have a few (emphasize few) galleries and souvenir shops, but it is not a Bar Harbor or a Camden. It once had a major chicken packing business. It has an intriguing history and an active historical society. There are villages up and down the coast that embody the classic Maine mystique, but Belfast is a different sort of blue-collar place that survives today on tourism, some lobstering, some agriculture (think...blueberries) and no small number of folks that combine all of them. Walt Wagner, from whom we buy our lobsters, fits no particular mold, but I see him as the prototypical Mainer. It is hard to tell which he loves most, his Harley or his lobster boat. He has a place that supplies him and a few customers with eggs, corn, hay, lobsters and a few other odds and ends. He's got a good sized barn, a few cows and the supporting machinery. He cuts his own firewood for heat and thrives in the independent environment that typifies Maine.
The first few shots show the Belfast harbor that I took out the window as we came back from Walt's with eight 2 pound lobsters. I took them as we passed over the bridge over the Passagassawaukeg River. Try pa-sag'-a-sa-waw'-keg, and don't try it in mixed company.
The next shot shows Dick Roth selecting lobsters from Walt's tank.
When we got back, it was time to cook them. We have the routine pretty well down pat. The next shot shows Bernie Dunn popping a lobster into the pot.
With the lobsters we have a fairly simple meal, There is melted butter, local fresh corn and a couple of bags of chips...that's it. This next shot shows Durelle picking up my lobster and hers.