The Lobsterman’s Door

Last September, I spent a week in Maine. I had wanted to visit Stonington, a classic lobster fishing village on Deer Isle. I decided to book two nights in town, hoping to get some interesting photos of the lobster fleet, any nearby lighthouses, etc.

I booked a motel right on Main Street, which ran along the water, and what I quickly learned was that Stonington ran on “lobsterman’s time” as I will call it. Each morning by 3:30 a.m. I could hear the lobsterman’s pickup trucks racing through town to the docks. The small convenience store opened at 4:00 a.m. and the auto and boat part store opened at 5:00 a.m. Everything was shut down by 8:00 p.m. The whole town seemed to run on this rhythm.

When I’m in a new place, I prefer to park the car and wander. So that’s just what I did when I arrived in Stonington. As I walked uphill from my motel, I saw a wonderful door that I knew I would have to photograph — probably more than once!

If you’ve followed me for a while, you’ll know that I love doors. I’ve often wandered dusty streets in towns across Mexico looking for weathered doors. I’ve also photographed doors in my other travels — some great ones have come from Italy, France, Colombia, and many other places. This would be my first Maine door.

A red building with a white door. Lobster floats hanging on the building, and floats and ropes scattered about in front. It was just perfect.

The Lobsterman’s Door

I returned to this door several times and photographed it in various lighting conditions. I tend to like my door photos without shadows, so this version was taken early in the morning before the sun put a shadow across the door.

Try as I might, I didn’t find another door like this during the rest of my trip.