Self-reliant islanders may want help

GREAT CRANBERRY ISLAND, Maine -- For generations, the people who live on this rocky island have fiercely defended it against change.

But change has crept in anyway, unsettling the traditional pace of life on an island where fewer than 50 people live year round, where lobster traps lie piled by the edge of woods, residents bake pies for the annual town meeting, and people leave their doors unlocked.

Drunk driving, break-ins, and recreational gunfire have become more common on the wind-whipped shores of Great Cranberry, and some islanders say the incidents are too many for them to handle on their own.

Today , residents of Cranberry Isles, who have policed themselves since the five islands that make up the town were first settled in the early 19th century, gather to decide whether they should set up their first police department.

The proposal to create a police force for Cranberry Isles, a short boat ride off Mount Desert Island, was placed on the town meeting warrant by a group of residents concerned about the upswing in unlawful behavior by a handful of offenders.

Islanders' efforts to deal with the problems themselves have not been successful, said Richard Beal , a retired Navy officer and former island selectman. More than 20 people -- roughly half the year-round population of Great Cranberry -- signed a petition to place the police proposal on the town meeting agenda.

"You've got neighbor supervising neighbor, and that's not good," said Beal. "Some people say, 'It's our island, we can do what we like,' but we can't. Long ago, we decided to have rules to govern behavior, and it's the law that keeps society together."

Boasting picture-postcard views across the water of the rounded mountaintops in Acadia National Park, the Cranberry Isles include five islands -- Bear; Sutton; Baker; Great Cranberry and Little Cranberry, better known as Islesford -- which make up one town. Two islands are inhabited year round. Islesford has about 75 people; Great Cranberry, the largest island at about 3 square miles, has 40 to 50, said local officials.

As on other islands off the coast of Maine, residents of the Cranberry Isles have struggled to hang on to their population and to preserve their culture.

Only 15 Maine islands still maintain year-round communities, compared with more than 300 a century ago, according to the Island Institute, a community development organization based in Rockland.

Islanders prize their independence, and the way they take care of their own. On Great Cranberry, many say the island feels like one big family.

While islanders admit that sometimes there are problems, some said police patrols would feel wrong in a place where survival depends on mutual trust.

"What do we need aggressive law enforcement for?" said Norman Sanborn , chief of the volunteer fire department, as he gestured to customers in the general store on Great Cranberry. "Half the island is standing right here."

Because of the relative safety of the islands, and the longstanding lack of law enforcement, residents have developed "a looser lifestyle" in some respects, said Phil Whitney , chairman of the islands' board of selectmen and a former police chief of Bar Harbor. Some island cars go unregistered and some island residents drive without licenses.

But more serious problems have also arisen, said Beal, including domestic violence, stolen weapons, and car wrecks. On one occasion, an islander broke into Sanborn's house after a night of drinking, and then barricaded himself in his own home. Sheriff's deputies, summoned from the mainland, arrived by boat 2 1/2 hours later, said Beal.

"It seems normal to me, to wait for someone to come," said Sanborn, a native of the island, with a shrug.

When necessary, islanders devise their own makeshift solutions to problems. Recreational target practice has become more common on Great Cranberry, and residents concerned about their safety have begun hanging buoys on trees near the shoreline to warn shooters that they are walking on the beach.

But that system is hardly foolproof, said Beal, who worries that someone will be hurt.

Some of the opposition to hiring police seems rooted in the widely held belief that island secrets should be kept. "If we had police, there might be arrests, and then these things would be public," Beal said.

An earlier proposal for a police department was defeated at town meeting about three years ago. The new proposal is more loosely structured, calling for "one or more trained officers" and "sufficient funds."

Traditionally, the town has dealt with law enforcement by appointing constables, residents who lack arrest powers but are authorized to issue court summonses for minor offenses.

But few islanders have signed up to police their neighbors in recent years, and those who have volunteered have not lasted long. Beal said he resigned as constable after trying to get islanders to register their cars.

"There were so many scofflaws," he said, "I just gave up."

One of the new island constables, Rodney Wimer , said the job has not been difficult for him, because he is new to Maine, and his ties to other islanders are less complicated. Wimer, who also serves as volunteer harbormaster, said he accepted the additional responsibility, when asked by the selectmen, "because someone needed to do it."

Whitney said that before he hires police, he would increase support for the newest constables, and send them to a 100-hour law enforcement training program to make them more effective.

"My philosophy is to do it gradually, to accustomize people to law enforcement over time," he said. "If that doesn't work, then perhaps we try [police]."

The important thing, said Beal, is that the officers -- police or constables -- are properly trained and paid to enforce the law.

"The coastline is changing," he said. "We just have to recognize it and get on with it."

Jenna Russell can be reached at jrussell@globe.com.