Pemaquid lighthouse. Everyone comes with camera or iPhone to get a photograph of the lighthouse. I sit and watch them scramble all over the rocks up and down, every which way. They take their shots and move on. Only a few will see the reflection in the tidal pool. Virtually no one will point out this shot. One kind Englishman in all the times I have been here actually took the time to point (I already knew) down at the pool for me. And in all the others I have tried on occasion to point out the quintessential image to some passersby. Largely unnoticed is a gem at their feet. Move on, next attraction, , . look mom, see where I’ve been. Look down at your feet.
Here’s the Queen Mary 2 docked in port in Rockland, Maine. It’s a bit overwhelming for the poor little lighthouse beside it. I’ve been there. it’s at the end of a very long rock dock. It’s a long walk – a mile. The light house is several stories tall. Or… that’s one big f’n ship! I saw signs in town welcoming passengers into the shops. You get a few hours in town to souvenir shop and to see what there is to see. No one eats. Food is plentiful and free onboard. I did not know this until I took my one and only cruise. So, restaurants are SOL Maybe someone will sit down to a lobster dinner or a famous lobster roll? Who knows? Meanwhile that big boat is messing with my picture of the lighthouse.
I have been to this lighthouse many times. I remember the first. Bob took me. We were riding in the car to breakfast. We stopped. I was very pleasantly surprised that he was kind enough to take me to this great photo op. I’ve been back myself many a time. each time I try for a different look or view. But a lighthouse is still a lighthouse….It’s not easy to get to. It’s out of the way. Not many people come here. I do. Forest Gump did. You would too if you really wanted to do it. Mostly folks don’t.
A few surprises. The lighthouse is in a traffic circle. It’s a mini not really a true one. Not much traffic this time of year. It’s cold and nasty, too early for beach traffic. I sat in the middle of the circle and took my pictures with nary a car in sight. Nicola? I’ve yet to go. I’ve tried a pizza. Not memorable. And the famous Nico-bo-li? Don’t know and haven’t a clue. The spinners? I’ve got a spot for one on my deck. I should pick one. Yup, it was a surprise three images in a row? Surprise? Three consecutive images – one post.
More fog – sometimes you just can’t make this stuff up. Fog is special. Most folks aren’t out and about in this weather condition. But this is pretty much the reason for lighthouses, eh?
Different perspective changes the mood. I caught the beam of light. Somehow the angle of the beam is not what I wanted. And I wonder that modern GPS navigation must make it a lot easier than to try to see a lighthouse in dense fog.
It’s known as the Portland bug light or the breakwater light. Fog – and it was evening. I got my money’s worth from the spiffy f2.8 lens. My shots were decent. Clarity was not the goal and the overall softness of the image works. The breakwater is a fair hike. And in near darkness over uneven rocks this was a bit of a challenge. The trip back was the more interesting walk.
The lighthouse became a special setting. It sort of represents quintessential Maine. The first thought I have of Maine is the sea and the coast and then of the lighthouses I have visited. So when I traveled there with Colleen we visited all the lighthouses I remembered. Of the ones we saw this was the one she thought called to her. There is a certain point of view that most photographers miss. The reflection of the lighthouse in the pool is the special shot of this location. We spent an afternoon just sitting and smelling the “coffee” (actually the sea). In that time I watched a parade of photographers, some with tripods and serious gear, traipse up and down the rocks never looking at the image waiting patiently before them.
I set up this shot. No, I did not use a tripod. And yes, I used Photoshop. I more or less estimated the perspective and distance. I kept the focal length the same. Post production put us both in the image. Hey, it worked.
The bridge to Campobello Island is from Maine to Canada. The island is Canadian while the access is via Lubec, Maine. So you need a passport. Yup. They don’t much check going into Canada. But the Americans are a pain. They stop you and ask whether you are a smuggler. Of course the reason you go is to see the Roosevelt house. FDR summered there. And there is a nice lighthouse.
Now I would not mention smuggling except that my former office manager, no name please, was with me once. We traveled over and stopped by to pick up a six pack of Canadian beer. Coming into the US a very nice border guard asked if we had anything to declare. She quickly answered no. I glanced back at the six pack sticking up from my jacket making a rather obvious bulge from the back seat. As we departed the gate, she turned to me and said, “I’d have drunk that six pack right there rather then pay any duty.” Oh, the life of an amateur smuggler….
This was the first time I was here. I have visited many times since. It was as I recall a foggy day as we traveled to Port Clyde to have breakfast with the Tyler Place friends. Bob drove and stopped here while Kevin and Alex waited. I got my shots. We had a grand breakfast. I remember the first.
Another day another lighthouse, there are so many. You pick. This is a very picturesque light. They didn’t build them for photo-ops for me. So some lights are very difficult to get a good view. Some lighthouses are on the map and can’t be seen from land. I personally think that’s cheap. But, hey! Well there is a reflection.
See, I told you. But there are also some people in the picture. Still, she’s a redhead. I have a soft spot for redheads. Her boyfriend was taking forever to set this shot up. And I wanted the reflection. The breeze was a little too strong and the reflection was shimmering. And then he asked me to take a shot of them both. I mean I’ve been doing selfies all trip long. Really! Well I ended up taking this shot and used it. It’s a good story. And I had given up the hope that they would clear before my travel buddy would cajole me to get moving. Say it ain’t so Colleen.