Island Updates

Dinner Time

Guest blog by Science Educator Josh Adrian

Not everyone gets to experience food that is shared intentionally during communal meals.  For me, it was essential to my parents that my family sits down to at least one meal together each day.  My mom is a fantastic cook, and the food she put in front of us was just as much an inspiration to join in on meals as the unspoken expectation to be present.  Whether my dad was out because of work, or I had soccer practice, we found a way to eat together.  I was lucky to have that intentionality growing up, and now I see how that carried with me.  Now when I am back home, my family and I plan vacations and other activities around food.  Staying up North?  Meals are planned first, then adventures.  Visiting a new city?  We figure out best places to eat ahead of schedule, and just wander between meals to find things to do.

I continued that sense of intentionality into college.  In the dorms, my friends and I would have “family dinner” when we could go down the hall and get everyone to come with us to the elevator to go eat as a group.  Once I had my own apartment, it felt strange if I couldn’t have a handful of friends over at least once a month for a big meal.

Now, I’m on Hurricane Island, living in an oil lamp-lit cabin with outhouses.  It’s pretty simple here, but one thing that is not paired down is the meals.  Understanding how much I cared about food growing up, you can pretty much surmise my elation at the spread we get here three times a day.  I probably will post again just about the jaw-dropping menu we have, but that’s not what this post is about.  More to the point, we eat together.

There are too many young people in this world of lightning-fast living who don’t experience meals where they can sit with people who love them and talk and share their life with.  To me, the importance of being able to step away from projects and activities, and breathe, eat, and share experiences, is core to us as people.  Here at Hurricane Island, all of the staff and the students sit down together for a beautiful meal three times a day.  Sharing together, like this is huge!  Youth and adults engaging together, sharing knowledge and experiences from the day.  It’s pretty incredible community time.

Last night, the Middle School Marine Ecology students used a seaweed called Irish Moss to make chocolate pudding for everyone.  Watching them present the pudding to the staff and the Waynflete Sustainable Ocean Studies high schoolers was magical.  The high schoolers absolutely inhaled the pudding (of course), and mid-way through bites the middle school students revealed the secret ingredient!  The high schoolers were unfazed, and to the middle school group’s delight continued to demolish bowls of pudding.

These are the best meals to me.  Sitting down in the midst of the students to find out what discoveries they made that day. Laughing and learning from each other, connected by the island and our enthusiasm to learn everything we can while at this place.  Food has always been essential for my community, and I couldn’t be happier that I’ve found that communal value here, at Hurricane Island.

Our giant serving table, ready to be covered in incredible dishes to be shared!

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First Impressions Series: Stefanie Burchill

Plum Tomato First Impressions

A full and happy table for staff orientation

My plum tomato colored face feels pre-leathered from a sunburnt ingrained smile. I have never lived on an island before, and so far I have realized that no matter how many gallons of sunscreen I apply, it will never be enough to protect my marshmallow complexion. Living in a pink hue, and off of the conventional grid is a small price to pay for the magic Hurricane Island has shown me in just a few short weeks. Community means everything to this Island. With out the tight bonds formed by the on-site staff, and board members abroad, the programs, operations, and education would fail almost instantaneously. Each and every day this intentional community bands together washing dishes to bright pop music, stirring compost to help feed each other, and listening closely to every members ideas to gain personal, and organizational growth.

Being a college student, I usually see people around my tiny Maine campus fending for themselves. Pouring large cups of coffee, then going into isolation for a few hours out in the library, they only mingle via social media.  Being on Hurricane, it is near impossible to isolate one’s self for more than a short nap, or walk around the perimeter trail. My original introvert anxiety thought was that this kind of life style would be a little too taxing. However, Hurricane’s communal reliance is not taxing, with everyone working towards the same mission, community becomes the source of the island’s energy (with some help from the solar array). Hurricane Island is a rowing gig. A well-balanced vessel who generates thriving individuals, and a safe space for anyone looking to enjoy a shared ocean breeze.

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First Impressions Series: Eric Howton

Stepping off the Eastern Flyer onto the dock on Hurricane Island evokes a feeling of tremendous good fortune. A connection with nature, history and an almost instantaneous process of introspection are sure to follow the sensation that you’ve been blessed to visit such a beautiful location.

Dana and Eric getting ready for a North end lobster bake

My first few days on the island were notable for some obvious reasons; the natural beauty of course, adjusting to ‘off-grid’ living, being away from my wife Allison and our hound Olivia and a drafty and dark cabin to name just a few. Being immersed in an environment, with such stark contrast to the suburban lifestyle I have grown accustomed to in New York, has been a wonderful resetting. It has provided a chance to stop and focus on many of the concerns and projects I have taken on.

Eric working to deliver an impressive meal from our wood fired oven

My newest charge, manning the stoves and wood oven, along with organizing the galley and establishing connections with purveyors has been delightfully augmented by getting personal tours of Hurricane Island and its surroundings while interacting with the core staff of the Hurricane Island Foundation.  These experiences as well as interacting with the participants and volunteers braving the shoulder season’s finicky weather assuaged any concern I harbored about leaving my comfortable life and taking on a new adventure. This place in nature seams to have a special meaning to those who are fortunate enough to spend any amount of time at all exploring or just sitting on its idyllic shores.

I have always loved the communal bond that is afforded by the dinner table. No matter the occasion, mealtime nor the dining partners, the camaraderie that results from sharing sustenance has given me the sense that all is right with the world. This was likely instilled in my sensibility around the family tables of my youth, from the open house my parents extended to any and all students from the college where my mother worked and from being bundled in my father’s coat sleeping atop sacks of flour next to the massive oven at our family’s bakery. I look forward to being a part of creating an environment that fosters community and unites those lucky enough to spend time on the island.

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First impressions series: Josh Adrian

Guest post from Science Educator Josh Adrian

Picture this. A few wooden picnic tables pushed together on a deck so close to the ocean you could throw a rubber duck in it. Twenty plus people gathered on the tables, talking and eating. The final rays of evening sunlight splash across mason jars serving as pitchers and water glasses. Squeezed in next to the jars on the table are vases of wildflowers found nearby, and artful piles of driftwood, sea glass, shells, and sea plums. Plates piled high with stone oven baked salmon, mussels provencal, risotto from a cast iron pot topped with delicate purple edible flowers, and a salad of greens from the garden are sitting in front of the staff.

This scene is what I’m confronted with barely a few hours after arriving on Hurricane Island in Maine. In a single day of near-light speed travel I managed to fly halfway across the country on two flights and then two boats. I went from a midwestern metropolis to a remote east coast island. From a tiny apartment, bike rides to Indian restaurants and street festivals, a part-time job at a paper store, and a prospective summer of relaxing in the city, I am now about as far from that as possible. Now I live in an unfinished cabin lit by oil lamps only 10 feet from the ocean, an hour-long boat ride from the nearest restaurant. I’ll be spending a couple months working with a small team of twenty-some other scientists and educators giving students an incredible chance to spend a week on an island learning science and leadership skills.

It’s been an insane whirlwind. Truth be told, my emotions over the whole situation are way up in the air still from moving so quickly. As first impressions go though, I couldn’t be happier. I am simultaneously giddy with excitement to be welcomed into such a passionate, knowledgeable, tight-knit community and overwhelmed with the history, science, and scope of effort that is embodied in this island.

The meal shared that first evening drove home a feeling of community that I did not anticipate feeling so quickly after arrival. There was no homesickness, no regrets of making this last minute jump at a summer position with Hurricane Island. I dropped adventures to the West coast with a best friend, several months of time with my girlfriend after being away most of the previous year, family vacation to northern Wisconsin and easy hours of work with plenty of down time to do this job. Certainly, those are things I still want to be able to do, but I don’t regret choosing this.

As first impressions go, this is probably as good as they get. Last night I hiked to part of the intertidal zone with the other new staff and pretty much stood like and idiot in an environment I had never encountered in my life. I was probably wide-eyed and slack-jawed to anyone who took a moment to look at me. Being in the intertidal I just tried my best to absorb as much information as others were sharing. I attempted to suck in anything I could learn and use in the future to share with students visiting. There is a lot of learning and work to be done, but I am out of control excited about what I found myself doing. First impressions, check. Time to dive in.

Exploring the intertidal near Two Bush Island!

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Volunteer Day: Foggy but fantastic

Early on a damp Sunday morning, 21 intrepid volunteers aged 8 to 80-something steamed across Penobscot Bay through dense fog and a running flood tide. Many had never set foot on Hurricane Island before, while several had a lifetime of memories of picnics, work, or student life on Hurricane.

Island staff greeted the enthusiastic gang with an overview of the island’s history and a safety briefing. Introductions were made all around, and the group convened in the mess hall for the first feed of the day—warm muffins, coffee, and tea. Jobs were divvied up shortly after in the Weiler-Lewis Boathouse, sending work teams to the South End to assemble wall tents, up the hill to strip shingles off cabins getting renovated, and to the gardens to plant seedlings. The newly sanded classroom floor got two coats of polyurethane, a kelp drying rack was crafted, and outhouses were freshly painted.

A fantastic lunch, served by our amazing kitchen team, included buttermilk fried chicken, roasted tomato soup, grilled smoked cheddar sandwiches, and an Israeli couscous salad full of fresh veggies. The volunteers then headed back to finish projects they had started, and a big group cleared brush together around our newly built, round yurt platforms. Several ravens paid an afternoon visit to the North End of Hurricane Island (one pictured here), and while the fog never lifted, volunteers stayed dry and kept warm with the exercise, snacking on freshly baked cookies. At the end of the day, a group of 33 high school students from the Paul Cuffee School in Providence, RI, arrived for a three-day program, and we boarded Equinox again to return to Rockland, where the rain began just as we got back to our vehicles. New friendships were kindled, and everyone was smiling.

Anyone remembering our gardens in the 2014-2015 seasons will recall the straw bale gardening technique we employed. Shown here is the garden today, enriched with those two years’ of organic matter and amendments, now suitable for direct planting.

We continue to be amazed by the sheer delight our volunteers take in becoming a part of our community and the generosity of spirit that is shared throughout the day. The work they do has an exponential impact on our progress—not just because many hands allow us to get done more than we can without them, but because the enthusiasm is contagious. The big smiles shared by our volunteers with the group of charter school students setting foot on Hurricane Island for the very first time, lugging suitcases up the ramp at low tide, lifted their spirits and told them they were welcome, that this is a place for everyone, that they too will be sorry to leave but will permanently be a part of the community that is Hurricane.

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Returning to the Island

Guest post: Bailey Moritz, Research Assistant

My first dinner did not disappoint!

Yurt platforms stand at the ready

Oh how I missed foggy mornings. I am so excited to be out on Hurricane again for another season of research, wonderful people, and learning! Even though this was my first weekend on the job after finishing school, the island has been in full gear for a while. I rode the boat out with a group from the Maine Island Trail Association coming to break new trail towards Sand Beach and we arrived to witness the final day of two middle school programs. There are a lot of awesome new staff members and educators; already I’ve overheard conversations about “art as critical inquiry” and making natural dyes from lichen. We’ve unloaded applewood for the well-utilized pizza oven and eaten local oysters and fiddleheads thanks to our talented Chef Eric. Yurts are in the process of being built to house the growing number of participants that will be out on the island this summer. Upon hiking to the High Cliffs to take in that priceless view, I noted the blueberries already beginning to peek out.

As the island quieted down for the day, the staff took an afternoon to boat over to neighboring Greens Island and explore the granite ledges, keeping a keen eye and ear out for nesting eagles. Already, I got to check an activity off my Hurricane Island bucket list. There’s never a lack of things to do out here! While the cabin is just as I left it and the red and black flags still wave in welcome, there is no doubting the energy of exciting changes pulsing throughout the island. Stay tuned for some great updates this summer. Cheers to being back out on Hurricane and cheers to what is shaping up to be an awesome season!

Climbing around the edges of Greens Island

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Partnering to bring aquaculture to teachers

Tuesday, February 23 was the first in a series of teacher professional development workshops offered in conjunction with Herring Gut Learning Center and the Island Institute. We were fortunate to have this workshop sponsored by funding from EPSCoR under the SEANET project and were supported by the Casco Bay Estuary Partnership.

Northport middle school teacher John VanDis tests his phytoplankton model [Photo credit Yvonne Thomas]

Teachers get up close and personal with all different kinds of seaweeds [Photo credit Yvonne Thomas]

PreK-8th grade teachers joined us from 7 different schools to learn about aquaculture concepts and how they can integrate aquaculture into their curriculum. Herring Gut staff were amazing at getting teachers immersed in activities that they could bring back to their own classrooms, covering everything from seaweed identification and art to building phytoplankton and designing them to be neutrally buoyant. I had a chance to help the teachers look at the Next Gen Science Standards and the Common Core State Standards and how they can meet those standards with aquaculture activities so that aquaculture doesn't end up as 'one more thing' they are trying to cover.  A large chunk of the afternoon was dedicated to helping the teachers take what they had learned in the morning sessions and come up with their own lessons and plans for bringing the information back to their class in a meaningful way. All of us who were involved in presenting the workshop were available to help with the planning and connect teachers to resources that would enable them to meet their goals, whether that was setting up field trips or guest speakers or even trying to bring kelp aquaculture into their classroom.  We all left with the feeling that it had been an incredibly successful day and we are excited to start planning the next workshop! 

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Amazing New England High School Aquaculture Programs

Whirlwind is an understatement when trying to describe the two days I spent running from Rockland to three different high schools in Connecticut and a fantastic restaurant serving invasive species.  But I am getting ahead of myself so lets back up....

Aquaculture Lab at MSMHS

I was fortunate enough to be included in a group of educators, aquaculturists, and administrators that traveled together down to Connecticut to learn more about how aquaculture education is being integrated into schools and how schools are even being built around aquaculture.  Yvonne Thomas (Island Institute, Director of Education) was the organizer and we were joined by Alison England and Amy Palmer (St. George School teachers), Neil Greenberg (Aquaculture Research Center manager, UMaine), and Laurie Bragg (NSF EPSCoR Project Administrator/Program and Outreach Manager). 

Student project tanks at MSMHS

The programs we were able to visit are examples of schools that are built around aquaculture and maritime industry rather than using aquaculture as a 'token' part of their curriculum.  The first school we visited was the Marine Science Magnet High School of Southeastern Connecticut where we were given a tour by the two aquaculture teachers, Eric Livinoff and Serge Medvedev.  Their facility was a DREAM from both a teacher standpoint and an aquaculturist standpoint and it was a wonderful way to start our trip. Both faculty members were extremely generous with their time and their information as we learned about the culture and philosophy of the school and got a chance to observe student projects in action.  The Harkness table definitely was an impressive feature of their open library and truly symbolized the way the students were expected to interact with each other and their teachers.  The student aquaculture projects ranged from raising ornamental fish to designing tank systems for aquaponics and troubleshooting algal culture techniques.  All of us left the facility with our jaws on the floor and were excited to see what else the trip held for us.

 

Aquaculture facilities at The Sound School

Little blue lobster in a lobster condo at The Sound School

Our second stop was at The Sound School Regional Vocational Aquaculture Center of New Haven that sat directly on the New Haven sound and blew our mind all over again.  This school is one of 19 agriculture based vocational high schools in the state and students attending the school are given an incredible education preparing them for college, technical schools, or employment directly upon graduation.  The curriculum progresses students through various levels of maritime trades including boat building, lobstering, and vessel navigation and safety at sea in addition to aqauculture options.  The aquaculture facility in this school is in the main building and was packed FULL of every tank imaginable, from gorgeous reef tanks where students were propagating coral to columns of bubbling micro algae to tanks housing lobster condos ingeniously made from inexpensive Tupperware containers.  The highly hands-on curriculum for these students really helps them fail early and fail often at the beginning of their career and then build their confidence and competence as they progress towards graduation.  Ned Flanagan was our guide through the building and through the curriculum and, again, amazed us with how helpful and thorough he was when explaining the the school from the ground up.  We all left the school a bit shell shocked from a day filled with an overwhelming amount of information. Our blood sugar was also dropping so it was time to find dinner.

Crispy Asian shore crab on sushi [Photo credit Yvonne Thomas]

At the outset, Miya Sushi looks like any other small sushi restaurant with warm, eclectic decor. The reason we traveled to this restaurant in particular was evident as soon as we opened the menu as most of the dishes featured invasive species and all were focused on sustainability.  The flavor profiles and the artistry of the dishes themselves were fantastic and our group delighted in trying things that we wouldn't be able to find anywhere else.  The most memorable bite for all of us was likely the jellyfish sushi that was graciously provided on the house by the restaurant.  Whatever we were expecting it was NOT a piece of 'meat' that was almost crunchy! The texture was nothing like anything else I have ever eaten and I'm actually wanting to try it again because I was so overwhelmed by the texture that I can't even remember the taste to be able to describe it!  My meal included a crispy, invasive Asian shore crab, we had plates of lionfish and Asian carp and garnishes of various insects. It would be easy for this type of fare to just be sensational and focused the thrill of trying these things for novelty sake but the dishes were truly delicious and we all felt fortunate to have been able to eat there.

Aquaculture lab at AQUA

Chemistry lab at AQUA

The next morning popped us back in the Suburban to travel to our final destination the Bridgeport Regional Aquaculture Science and Technology Education Center (AQUA).  We were greeted by Dr. Charles Yarish, a professor at the University of Connecticut and a major supporter of the school. Dr. Yarish and co-founder John Curtis were our guides and spent an incredible amount of time making sure we saw everything the school had to offer and, once again, we were awed.  The aquaculture facility itself was the largest of the three schools we visited and it was clear that it was heavily used.  The equipment that we saw in that facility, in the chemistry lab, and elsewhere in the building was incredibly sophisticated and Dr. Yarish explained that he sent his graduate students to the school to use some of the equipment/facilities because they were better than what he had in his own lab.  The school certainly empowers students with knowledge and skills and strives to make connections to the community, including letting the students operate a fish market each week that brings parents and other community members into the school for the quality seafood they can purchase.

We all left the trip impressed and a little overwhelmed. The only problem with seeing schools that have built themselves around aquaculture (physically as well as conceptually) is that it is hard to extract how to take that back to Maine and integrate it into schools that don't have that infrastructure.  The conversations on the ride back were great for helping all of us process everything we had just seen and experienced.  I am thrilled I had the opportunity and you can bet that there are plenty of aquaculture resources for 'landlocked' teachers coming down the pike very soon. Keep checking back with us and check out our new Resources page for lesson plan updates!

You can check out the Island Institute Blog on the trip here!

 

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