Sears%20Island

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Sears IslandMy Island

• By Darcy West

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Going Camping

• My eyes immediately popped open and I sprung from
  my bed like a Jack in the Box! I was ready for
  our annual camping trip to Sears Islandmy
  island.

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My sister and I blasted out the screen door
dropping tent stakes as we scurried to the jeep.
We crawled in and were ready to go! We couldnt
wait to travel to our island. This was a place
where we were allowed to let our imaginations run
wild for the weekend.
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As the jeep bounced on the rocky beach, the
thoughts of picking rasberries, bathing in the
ice cold brooks, and digging for clams to roast
over my own campfire was overwhelming! My first
task would be to pitch my own tent. When you are
eleven years old, having your own everything was
crucial and part of the excitement!
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One of the most memorable events was walking
AROUND the island. We were always intrigued by
the small, dark caves, mini waterfalls, and the
treasures we would find washed upon the shore. At
one time this included an old beat-up orange
plastic sled filled with fish nets, buoys, an old
pair of sandals, and a soggy stuffed bear.
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Crackle, Snap, Pop! Often times, these and our
parents voices muffled by the thin walls of our
tents were the sounds that lulled me into a deep
sleep.
One evening, my cousin Tracey and I even built
our own rustic tent out of the driftwood that had
accumulated on the beach over time. Although our
feet stuck out the door of that oddball teepee we
created, we still fell asleep quickly.
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It was my restless grandfather who first
introduced me to the sand dollar. He would
say,Come on sweet girl, lets look for sand
dollars on the beach! I had no idea what he
was talking about and as I searched, I was really
looking for U.S. American dollar bills in the
sand. When he picked it up and showed me my
first sand dollar, I was disappointed to find out
I wouldnt be rich on that beach but was hooked
on these crazy sea creatures. I still look for
them even today.
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Slimy, gooey, icky seaweed seemed like nothing to
me when I was eleven. One of the heated
competitions between my cousins and I involved
who could find the big daddy crab!
Unfortunately, the larger crabs were in the deep
waters of Penobscot Bay, not under the small
clumps of seaweed we would spend hours raking.
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Adventure is what we craved on our camping trips
to Sears Island. Back in the day, there was no
road that connected the island to the mainland,
but only a natural roadway that was only revealed
at low tide. You were trapped on the island at
high tide. But at times, part of the adventure
involved wading across as the tide was coming in.
Not only did we battle the crossing currents,
but the full size crabs found our toes extremely
tasty. Dodging those crab claws, beating the
rapid tide, and tolerating the cold Penobscot
waters made us feel big, like heros when we
finally reached the mainland!
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This natural and picture perfect island was one
of the highlights of my childhood. As I visit
the past in my mind, it makes me smile to know
that I had the unique opportunity to become
friends with Sears Islandmy island.