PENINSULA Pemaquid

epending on whom you ask, the Native American word Pemaquid means “situated far out” or “long point.” Either is perfectly suited to Rachel Carson’s peninsula, where the groundbreaking conservationist lived and studied tidepools, and where the Rachel Carson Salt Pond Preserve lives on, just north of New Harbor, on Route 32, on Muscongus Bay.

Of all the peninsulas, Pemaquid is the one that most reminds me of a sailor’s knot. Roads curl and loop around; you may think you’re headed to Pemaquid Harbor, but somehow you wind up in South Bristol. Which, by the way, is a fantastic little harbor town, buoyed by water on both sides of a bridge that’s tight with buildings clinging like barnacles, including Maggie’s Fishmarket and rustic Osier’s Wharf for lobsters, clams, and a crunchy friedhaddock sandwich (“Eat Here or Take Out”).

Turn around and try again, and this time it’s a toss-up which way to go: left to Pemaquid Beach or right to Colonial Pemaquid, with reconstructed Fort William Henry, on a site that saw its first fort built in 1677. A handsome Colonial farm from the 1700s houses the archaeology lab, and a museum displays artifacts dug from the surrounding area, dating to the early 17th century. Paddlers can launch a kayak from the public landing into the Pemaquid River; experienced kayakers can cross John’s Bay and skim past South Bristol’s rock-perched cottages or circle Witch Island, with a chance to spot osprey and seals. Or … turn back and stretch out on Bristol’s long, curving Pemaquid Beach, an expanse of white sand.

But with daylight running out, it’s a straight shot down to iconic Pemaquid Point Light. The blindingly white tower sits high on a bluff that’s 100 percent Maine—sheets of rocky coast below, 180 degrees of pure ocean drama, waves crashing and spray flying. Really, how better to end than on this scenic high note, punctuated by a lighthouse wrapped in coastal beauty? Staring out to sea, I feel something cold nudge my leg: a wet nose, belonging to a black Lab, attached to a twentysomething hiker. “It doesn’t get any better, does it?” he grins.

Peninsulas are for savoring, for driving off the map, for returning to. And for always something more to see. Albert Allen claimed his peninsula was the best, and it was … along with the next one, and the next. A collection of dangling fingers, a perfect hand, with so many moments of beauty, so much wild peace, that all definitions of “sleepy” may have to be rewritten.

More images at: YankeeMagazine.com/ME-PeninsulasPhotos. Where to go and what to do: YankeeMagazine .com/ME-Peninsulas-Activities. Check out our favorite New England lobster shacks (including Five Islands) at: YankeeMagazine.com/LobsterShacks. In the market for a place on the Pemaquid Peninsula? See this issue’s “House for Sale,” p. 42, for a peek at an island home overlooking Christmas Cove.

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