Halfway between Camden and North Haven is a rock that serves as a landmark and hazard for boaters. On the chart, it appears as a squiggle – and it’s not really much more than that. It would never do for human habitation. The biggest storms of winter nearly wash over it. You could never grow anything there or build anything permanent. It’s just a waypoint on the way to somewhere else.
It likely gets only a handful of visitors each year, if that. It does have unsurpassed views of the Camden Hills and Penobscot Bay. It’s a place that looks little different than it did 100 years ago – or 1,000. It’s not even part of the Maine Island trail. The guidebooks don’t touch it, as if it is too small and inconsequential to mention. Google knows about it, but it doesn’t know much. No evidence of humans or of human visits is easily found. If you arrive there, it is probably by accident.
1.9 acre Robinson Rock is 4 nautical miles southeast of Camden Harbor and a little less than a mile south of Mark Island. It has a couple of rough gravel beaches tucked between rocky headlands. It has tide pools more than adequate for an afternoon’s contemplation. It has a soft peaty soils and a rough green meadow of raspberry, burdock, and wild rose. Harbor seals, sea gulls, cormorants, and nesting black guillemots call it (and its surrounding ledges) home. Eagles, who frequently nest on nearby Mark Island, can be seen overhead. Far off, the Camden Hills rise up like a distant country. It’s a wilder place than we are accustomed to seeing this far up the bay. The mighty Atlantic comes to call – and has left its mark – on the bedrock and in the beaches.. It feels more akin to the open ocean than it does to most of the other islands of our bay, which tend to be wooded and garden-like in comparison.
As an IFW (Inland Fisheries and Wildlife) bird nesting island, it is closed to the public during nesting season, which extends from April 1 to the end of August. Given the remoteness from the mainland, the exposure to open water, and the inadvisability of embarking on long crossings once ocean temperatures drop, this leaves only a short window for visits. Finding a day in September where conditions permit a crossing is not easy. Combine that with work and household schedules, and pulling off a trip to Robinson Rock is a rare feat and much treasured opportunity.
We had such a day a few weeks ago. The bay was windless and glassy as we set out of Camden Harbor. Even so, the wind came up during the day and by the time we headed back across on our return crossing, we had to battle a difficult beam seas during our entire trip. The wind generally blows north or south (straight up or down) Penobscot Bay, making any east west crossing in a a kayak dicey – and potentially dangerous. I do not recommend taking the trip unless you are have been sea kayaking for a number of years, have made shorter crossings (such as Saturday Cove to Islesboro) in a variety of conditions, and are equipped with full safety gear including vhf radio, flares, extra clothing, and at least one partner with whom you have practiced various re-entry rescues. A tent and a sleeping bag (in case of being stranded on the island due to a change in weather) would not be a bad idea.
If ashore on a fair day in September, with late summer sunlight spilling over the water, the rock , and the beaches, with a salt breeze coming up the bay and the cry of gulls and the boom of surf in the air, you will fully appreciate Robinson Rock is much more than a rock. If caught up in the spirit of the place, you might even feel for a while that you could abandon all ties to the mainland and just live there like the seals and the guillemots. But you know that as the nights get cooler and the sunlight wanes, the seals and “guilleys” will leave. As you know you must.
For those of you out there contemplating a visit, just remember that the trip is difficult and a little risky. Anyway, you probably have a lawn to mow or firewood to stack. After all, Robinson Rock is just a rock. It is four long miles from Camden Harbor, and all that raw beauty is almost too much to bear.