Down East 2013 ©
Where in Maine?
The harbor portrayed in your February “Where in Maine?” photograph is Perkins Cove in Ogunquit. The photo was taken on the Riverside Motel side, looking out at the ocean. Charles H. Woodbury was one of the first artists who built a house and studio near Perkins Cove and later founded the Ogunquit School of Art. Ogunquit is still known for its many excellent artists, one of them my husband. The large house to the left, the Island House, has undergone many face-lifts during the past 120 years. Ogunquit has been a favorite vacation spot for my family for many years, dating back to the early 1900s. My husband and I met in Ogunquit in 1954 and retired here in 1999. Perkins Cove has always been part of my life; it has changed considerably over the years, but remains a beautiful cove. As year-round residents, we are lucky to be able to see the cove in winter when Ogunquit returns to a peaceful, quiet village after summer visitors leave.
Oh, that’s no puzzle! That’s Perkins Cove — only the photographer is standing about 180 degrees differently than we do, both geographically and seasonally. For decades we have made our ritual pilgrimage from Virginia to eat at Barnacle Billy’s and to wander the wonderful little shops. My great-aunt used to summer there many more decades ago and always dined at the Whistling Oyster — in her honor I always pick a little something up at the shop that retains the name. Well, it used to be in her honor; now it’s just because it has become a beloved family tradition. My husband and son park themselves on a bench and eat ice cream while my daughter and I go in and really spoil ourselves. Something for everyone in Perkins Cove!
—Peg Van Vlack
Oak Hill, Virginia
A few comments about your February mystery photograph, if you will permit me: The break in the bulkhead beneath the house on the left is the boat launch where a newly handmade replica of the old Ogunquit Dory was launched in 2009. The house on the left looks old but is only about ten years old. We are so thankful that the builder honored the icon we call the Island House and rebuilt with architectural integrity. The house bisected by the flagpole is where my grandmother, Augusta, would spend a week or ten days in the 1940s and 1950s. And the house to the right of the flagpole is where the boy who gave me my first kiss spent his sixteenth year. This photograph is surely full of memories for me.