Eastport

We drove the last stretch to Eastport in near darkness, following Route 190 across a causeway with black water on both sides, and arrived to a town that felt less like the edge of Maine than the edge of the map altogether. Eastport sits on Moose Island, connected to the mainland by that single causeway, closer to the Canadian border than to Portland, and it has the particular stillness of a place most travelers never quite reach. Once the sardine-canning capital of America, with dozens of factories lining its waterfront, it now gets by on fishing, aquaculture, and a fierce, unbothered independence.

Water Street and the old canneries

Water Street runs along the harbor past brick storefronts that once served a boomtown of eighteen sardine canneries, back when Eastport packed more fish than anywhere else in the country. Most of the canneries are gone now, but their footprint remains in the pilings and breakwaters that still jut into the bay, and a few weathered buildings have been reborn as galleries, a bakery, and a small maritime museum. Lia and I ducked into one selling seaweed products and dulse harvested from the surrounding ledges, a reminder that this corner of Maine still makes its living directly from the water, one way or another.

Old Sow and the world’s biggest tides

Just offshore, where Passamaquoddy Bay narrows between Moose Island and Deer Island, the currents collide to form Old Sow, the largest tidal whirlpool in the Western Hemisphere. We caught it from a bluff at Deer Island Point, the water hissing and gurgling as it dragged small vortices out into open water. The tides here are staggering — a twenty-foot swing twice daily, among the highest in the world — and we watched the harbor transform within a few hours from a mudflat wide enough to walk across to a full, lapping bay. Fishermen adjust their whole day around it, and after a while we found ourselves doing the same.

Sunrise from Todd’s Head

On our last morning, we walked out to Todd’s Head before dawn, technically among the first pieces of ground in the country to catch the sun. A handful of locals were already there with coffee, an informal ritual rather than a tourist event, and nobody spoke much as the light came up pink over the bay and lit the spruce-covered islands of New Brunswick across the water. It struck me that a town built on tides and fog and hard fishing seasons would choose, every clear morning, to gather quietly and watch the day begin.

Getting There

Eastport is remote by design: the nearest commercial airport is Bangor International (BGR), about two hours southwest by car, though small charter flights sometimes land at the local airport. From Bangor, follow Route 9 east to Route 1, then Route 190 across the causeway onto Moose Island. There’s no public transit to speak of, so a car is essential, and it’s worth allowing extra time — the roads narrow to two lanes of spruce forest and blueberry barrens for much of the drive.