Darrin Kelly, left, of Ardea EcoExpeditions shows Diana Schwartz a non-stinging jellyfish as they kayak near Jordan Island.
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(Jennifer L. Schwartz/ For the Boston Globe)
Keeping Acadia’s quiet side to themselves
Darrin Kelly, left, of Ardea EcoExpeditions shows Diana Schwartz a non-stinging jellyfish as they kayak near Jordan Island.
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(Jennifer L. Schwartz/ For the Boston Globe)
SCHOODIC PENINSULA - I was tucking my paddle beneath the bungee straps of our tandem kayak when deep, throaty breaths punctuated the silence of Frenchman Bay. Twenty feet to our left, a harbor seal bobbed in the glassy water, sucking air before another dive.
Our guide, Darrin Kelly, was pouring cardamom tea with local maple syrup when the seal resurfaced to our right, and a bit closer. “He’s a curious teenager,’’ Kelly said, identifying the fur of a juvenile male.
Cruising along Yellow Island by way of Bunkers Cove, our intimate group - my sister, Diana, cousin Allie, and I - found unexpected solitude. We were mere miles off the coast of Bar Harbor in summer high season, yet we saw no other watercraft for the entire three-hour sunset tour. Maybe it was Kelly’s penchant for plucking spiny green urchins off the rocks for us to handle or the indeterminable horizon at dusk, but I stopped bemoaning Diana’s steering skills, forgot about my soggy bum, and relaxed into a contemplative paddle stroke.
Just northeast of Mount Desert Island, the Schoodic Peninsula is home to the “secret side’’ of Acadia National Park, third-generation lobstermen, and inspired artists. It’s not a one-day destination. You need time to explore to appreciate it. Though tourism picked up in the mid-’90s when a few bed-and-breakfasts opened, this is still a series of sleepy harbor towns, minus T-shirt shops and other kitsch.
Tourism is only a small part of the local economy and the infrastructure reflects that. There are no public restrooms in downtown Winter Harbor, for example. Restaurants cater to fishermen’s hours, not vacationers’. When we returned from kayaking at 8 p.m., we had to drive off the peninsula and 40 minutes west to Ellsworth to find an open dining room - at Friendly’s.
Because the peninsula lacks such amenities, you won’t find cruise ships, traffic, overpriced food, and crowded trails here. We embraced the tradeoff.
Allie and I had come to visit Diana, who was finishing a local internship. As 20-somethings on tight budgets, we mainly stuck to free outdoor activities.
The Schoodic section of Acadia is less than 3,000 acres. Imagine a smaller Mount Desert Island, with similar geological features and equally enjoyable views. Trails here aren’t especially strenuous or long, but a few fun climbs on boulders and over tiny waterfalls keep hikes interesting. Moss seems to cover everything, turning the ground into a dense sponge.
At low tide, we walked to an offshore island to watch for wildlife. Schoodic Point, with its pink granite coastline and surging surf, is the ultimate playground for photographers and naturalists.
After spending a night camping in Camden Hills State Park on our drive up from Boston, we opted for bed and breakfast accommodations in Prospect Harbor. Elsa’s Inn is situated across from an active fishing harbor and an unobtrusive sardine factory, marked by a two-story-tall sign in the shape of a yellow-garbed fisherman.
Megan Moshier, the co-owner of Elsa’s, has deep ties to the area and experience at hotels like The Ritz-Carlton. As such, her six-room inn melds a lovely, laid-back vibe (think lobster bakes on the patio) with meticulous attention to detail and gracious hospitality (locally made lavender soap, handmade quilts, and plush bathrobes). The rooms, which are named after family members, go for reasonable rates.
Breakfast at Elsa’s consisted of homemade granola, warm pecan muffins, poached pear in a ginger and clove syrup, and fluffy frittata with feta, spinach, and red onion. The coffee was strong, the orange juice fresh-squeezed.
Moshier is passionate about the peninsula. She grew up here and is sentimental about the area’s peacefulness and community pride. On the quiet side of Acadia, she said, “You can always find a seat at the cafe or ride a bike on the streets.’’
In fall, Moshier adds down-filled duvets to the rooms and sets up intricate puzzles by a wood-burning fire in the parlor. She said the area is most beautiful in the autumn.
That is a sentiment echoed by others in town. Kelly said September is the best time to visit.
“Days are in the 70s and nights in the low 50s, which is a perfect sleeping temperature,’’ he said. “You’ve got clear nights, awesome stars, and occasionally northern lights. The water is warmer; the fog dissipates. There’s increased activity of marine mammals, migrating shorebirds, and bald eagles getting ready for winter.’’
Wendilee Heath O’Brien, the watercolor artist behind WhoPaints studio and gallery in Winter Harbor, favors winter. A year-round runner, she is fond of snow and how it alters the landscape.
“It’s so crisp and quiet,’’ O’Brien said. “You get beautiful sunrises and sunsets.’’ The winter scene is an obvious inspiration in some of her paintings, which are priced on a sliding scale. “I believe everyone should have access to art,’’ she said.
The studio itself - a converted auto shop garage - is cluttered with canvases, paintbrushes packed in jars, and colorful glass orbs. The absence of pretention or pressure kept us at WhoPaints for nearly two hours.
The area has a thriving arts scene, thanks in part to Schoodic Arts For All, an organization that hosts festivals and workshops. Pam Broderick at Works of Hand combs beaches for sea glass and pottery, while Roger Fisher restores wood from old lobster traps. Together, they make lovely wood-framed mirrors with mosaic detailing.
There are dozens of talented knitters, glass blowers, potters, and painters, many who are open to sharing their crafting process. At U.S. Bells, you can watch the artist pour molten bronze into molds. The selection of hand-hooked designs, local crafts, and vintage items at Chapter Two in Corea is nearly upstaged by the massive but well-organized collection of eclectic books.
Though I’m skeptical of fruit wines, the Bartlett Winery and Distillery in Gouldsboro made me a believer in fermented blueberries. Vintners Bob and Kathe Bartlett are inspired by the local fruit and make wines that even chardonnay drinkers could appreciate.
After seeing the wine lab and distillery we tasted the pear dry white and an intoxicating apple brandy. My favorite was a blueberry wine aged in French oak barrels. A marriage of local authenticity and fine-tuned expertise, the wine was like the peninsula, its secret side now revealed.
Jennifer L. Schwartz can be reached at jensch72@gmail.com. ![]()



