Island Updates

Energy: Refections on Middle School Island Ecology

Guest blog post from Science Educator Josh Adrian

I'm couple of days out from my Middle School Island Ecology program, and I’m sitting down to reflect a little further on the week.  Immediately after the students departed on Saturday afternoon, we cleaned up and spent some time debriefing the program.  Reflecting on your own takes a little more of a step back though, and I didn’t think I could start much sooner than now.

Trying to sum up my reflections on seven days of glorious weather spent exploring Hurricane Island with nine incredible middle school students is tough.  When thinking of how to draw it all together, one thing comes to mind.  Energy.

No, this is not a post about Hurricane Island’s numerous sustainable systems.  (Shameless plug.  Boom.  Nailed it.)

So much energy circulated the island as the week took shape and played out.  It started the moment the Equinox approached the dock with the students.  I felt it.  I did a little dance on the edge of the dock.  (Phoebe knows.  Ask her about my little dance.)  I couldn’t help myself.  For two weeks I had been pouring over island history, flora and fauna guides, and lesson plans, pulling together the Island Ecology program.  It’s always exciting, but there is a lot of work there, and so the moment where the focal point of the week, the students, actually show up, you remember why you’re so excited.

From there the energy just grew.  As the students stepped off the boat, every one of them brought a massive amount of energy.  Their past experiences and enthusiasm to learn and become part of the island community kickstarted everyone that Sunday.  It was infectious.  By dinner time, staff who could have easily snuck away to their cabins for a quiet evening opted to play cards and games and hang out with the students.  Other visitors chatted with them and shared excitement for the week ahead.  And while arriving on an island knowing no one at the beginning of a seven day visit is daunting, the makings of a group of good friends was already in the works.

A lesson on edible plants, spent together outdoors.

All week we hiked around the island, discovering the various layers of Hurricane’s ecosystem.  From the ocean and granite bedrock, to the trees and creatures living in them, we explored various corners of the island to understand many aspects of the natural community there.  Feeling the energy of the students as they asked questions and expanded their understanding of the space around them was incredible.  They quickly got to know each other and used that interconnectedness to expand their knowledgeand energy further.  At one point, when challenged to build a raft worthy of getting two separate teams across the ice pond, the students were so enthusiastic to work and play we went past our two hour goal by a full hour!  And who am I to put a cap on that energy?

The energy brought by the students was not the only energy present that week though.  All the staff shared incredible passion for the program with the students throughout the week.  You could sense the way the students picked up on how concerned the staff were for their work on the island and respected that energy.  Every single one brought something unique to the table and found a way to share it with the students.  Whether it was Rachael’s passion for sustainable systems on the island, Michelle’s passion for trees, or Silas’s for woodworking, that energy helped them to grow to feel a part of the community and to understand the place they were in.

Using physical energy aboard the rowing gigs!

By the end of the week, we had built a communal energy.  What was once individual, was now shared.  At one point, I stepped out of the lab after dinner to walk towards the galley, and a soccer game had started.  A game that at the beginning of the week only involved a student or two was now the whole Island Ecology group and several staff.  I grinned as I thought that it perfectly summed up the week.  Those soccer players brought energy to the island, and as they shared it, it consumed all of us as it was built into the community.  We all put some energy into it.  Much like the flywheel that maintained the energy for the quarry workers so many years before us, the community we made kept that energy going throughout the week.  I often times think about what I’m doing with my path in life, and find that through all that I’ve done, community has been the constant that has drawn me in.  There is no shortness of that here, on Hurricane Island.  The energy that community provides is contagious.  We all come to the island with lived experiences and all of our individual selves to share, but whether we’re students, teachers, or the casual visitor, we share out that lived experience.  You can feel the energy from all that, and each week, the community feels a little different by the energy that is present.  I seek that in everything I do, and it was apparent the students from Island Ecology felt its strength as well.

We took photos, talked about future visits, and waved goodbye as the Equinox took the students off the island.  By the time they were a hundred feet from the dock you could feel the energy fading.  It was incredible, and invigorating.  That energy won’t ever quite get recreated again, and it is worth documenting and cherishing.  I know the students will hold onto the memory of the energy we all felt while we explored, and learned and grew together.   And I hope they carry that memory forward to seek that energy in all they do.

Subscribe in a reader

Hurricane as a host

High School Marine Ecology students share their research with members of the Hokule'a crew and Hurricane Island staff

Research staff (Director Cait Cleaver, Intern Jessie Batchelder) share their work on scallops with the Vinalhaven Land Trust group

Over the past four days, Hurricane Island hosted almost 300 people! Our guests all came from different group programs, and ethnic backgrounds riding the waves from the east coast, all the way to Polynesia, and some across the pond from Europe. The spirit of Hurricane was shared with the Hawaiian vessel, Hokule'a as one of their educational stops on their east coast leg of a multi-year journey. They stayed with us for a glorious two nights sharing their wisdom of celestial navigation, culture, and some good eats. The Nature Conservancy International Board came onshore for their retreat to make a few connections within their organization and waded into some group problem solving. Today, we are running around with roughly 100 people from the Vinalhaven Land Trust who scurried up our docks for a fun, short day of learning about our trails, off-the-grid energy systems, research, and history. Our research crew was waiting on the docs—spat bags in hand—eager to share their knowledge of scallops and local fisheries. Our guests asked many questions, which not only benefits group and personal knowledge, but also allows us to better understand how the public receives our studies and other work within marine fisheries.

Vinalhaven Land Trust participants touring the facilities with Facilities Manager Oakley Jackson

As fast paced and blurry as these events may come, Hurricane Island has been elated to share the magic we experience each and every day with such bright, friendly faces. Hosting is a big part of the educational elements we standby at the Center for Science and Leadership. In order to lead, one must host. One must make their team feel comfortable and included. In order to do science research, teams much reach out to the public through checking specific regulations, gathering ideas based on what communities find challenging about the experiments, and using these challenges to find the best fitting solutions to these questions and concerns. Our open enrollment programs on island (currently High School Marine Ecology) benefit a great deal from our adult program visitors. Students have the opportunity to mingle over morning coffee and pancakes with professionals in fields they may already be curious about. They are expanding their knowledge through diversity, and becoming educated on skills that they may have not previously been exposed to. Hurricane is one itty-bitty Mecca for collaborative learning and leadership building through experience.

Through all of the set-up-sweat, Hurricane Island staff community members are happy to host visitors and discoverers in hopes that they may teach us, as much as we hope to teach them. Learning is best done through collaborative experience; we plan on continuing to offer these amazing experiences to our students, friends, and visitors as more hosting opportunities continue to arise. 

Hokule'a, a traditional sailing canoe from Hawai'i, paying Hurricane Island a visit on their Worldwide Voyage.

Subscribe in a reader

Middle School Marine Ecology students set the bar high!

Guest blog post from Science Educator Robin Chernow; Intern Dana Colihan

From July 3rd to 9th, the Middle School Marine Ecology program kicked off the open enrollment season as they called Hurricane Island “home.”

Sunday’s night hike set the tone for a great week ahead as the students learned about night vision and eye anatomy, and observed luminescent sparks while munching on wintergreen lifesavers. Shout out to fellow Science Educator Josh for sharing his expertise.

Another inaugural event of the summer was Seaweed Day! On this mid-week day dedicated to our favorite algae, students identified different species and practiced using microscopes to get an up-close look, before boating with Oakley out to Hurricane’s kelp aquaculture for a harvest. In the afternoon, students took on the role of seaweed chefs, joining Eric in the kitchen to pickle some kelp stipes and to prepare dessert for the evening: chocolate sea moss pudding. The pudding recipe came to Hurricane via Educator Intern Dana, who fondly remembers making this sweet seaweed treat with her family. Finally, a seaweed press art project concluded the algae-filled day.

I am impressed and amazed by the staff here on-island. Everyone has pitched in and shared their time, energy, and enthusiasm to make a meaningful and memorable week for our students, not just on Seaweed Day or our first night, but every day and night. Though I was the Science Educator tasked with leading the week and developing programming, we all made the week possible as a team. I love that everyone was eager to be a part of the middle schoolers’ week, sharing something special and building community.  

Marine debris sea star created to raise awareness about ocean pollution

Our students felt that community too. They enjoyed spending free time with different staff members, playing volleyball with Bailey, and cards with Rachael. They loved walking like crabs with Jenn and hearing about Silas’s work with boats. They learned from Sam how to rock climb and belay, and they listened intently to Phoebe’s stories about our starry sky. Each of these experiences strengthened our students’ bonds with each other too, and they became more excited to play games and sing songs as a cohesive group.

By the time Friday rolled around, and it was our students’ chance to share their newfound expertise. They gathered proudly to present their findings from their research project, investigating their question “What animals does seaweed protect?” While initially apprehensive at the prospect of giving presentations, the students’ nerves subsided. As our staff community filed into the presentation room, the students were excited and confident to share what they had discovered.

As I look back on the first week of summer programming, I feel incredibly lucky to be here working with such wonderful students and staff. From Dana, my intern who has been supportive and creative through every moment, to the staff as a whole, stepping in with students and making sure this place runs smoothly, to the kids who came here with open minds and an appetite for fun, Hurricane Island brings people together. Now let’s bring on the rest of the summer!

"Junior High" Marine Ecology students with their educators on the last day.

Subscribe in a reader

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!

Subscribe in a reader

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.

Subscribe in a reader

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.

Subscribe in a reader

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!

Subscribe in a reader

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.

Subscribe in a reader