The Monster Bones of St. Frederick Island

CHAPTER ONE

“One more week! Just one more week! And then,” Douglas bellowed,” Schools’s out…and summer vacation!”

Mrs. Crawford laughed. “Glad there’s something about school that makes you so happy.”

“Well, you should be happy, Mom,” said Janet. “You’re a teacher so you get the summer off too.”

“What about you, Dad? asked Douglas. “Aren’t you taking a few weeks off?”

Mr. Crawford put down the newspaper he was reading.

“It’s busy at work lately. I put in for just two weeks.”

“Okay,” said Douglas, “So where are we going on Fire Island this year?

For the past three summers, the Crawfords vacationed at one of the towns on Fire Island, a narrow strip of land south of Long Island, New York, first at Robert Moses State Park, then Ocean Beach, then Smith Point Park.

“Let’s do something different this year,” Mrs. Crawford said, “I need a break from Fire Island…a change of scenery.”

“But you love the beaches,” exclaimed Douglas.

“I know, I know…but there are lots of beaches all over the country,” she replied. “And, for some reason, I’ve been remembering a summer trip with my family up the east coast, all the way to Maine. We stayed at a seaside town called Bar Harbor and I had a great time. We hiked in Acadia National Park, went whale watching, and ate lobsters pulled right out of the ocean.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Mr. Crawford. He folded up his newspaper. “I’m definitely up for a road trip.”

“What about you two?” asked Mrs. Crawford. “Any problems with this?”

Douglas hesitated. “No, but…but what about Wesley? He always comes on vacation with us.”

“Of course, Wesley’s coming.” She laughed. ‘The Troublesome Trio,’ as your father calls you. You three have an uncanny knack for sniffing out trouble, or adventure as you call it…three years in a row. Let’s see, buried pirate treasure at a lighthouse, a stolen medal from World War Two, and a lost child frightened by bullies.”

“But this is far away? I mean, Fire Island is practically next door. Maybe his mother won’t want him to go that far from home,” worried Douglas.

“I’ll talk to his mother. I’m sure it’ll be okay,” she smiled.

“Okay, then, Let’s check our calendar and set a date,” said Mr. Crawford, heading out to the garage. “I want to get the car checked out. I may need an oil change.”

“And I need to start making some reservations. Summer at Bar Harbor is always busy,” added Mrs. Crawford, as she booted up her computer.

Douglas and Janet sat for a moment to process the change this summer was about to happen. When they first started vacationing at Fire Island, Douglas was in his last year at Bayshore Elementary School, and Janet was just starting third grade. Douglas and Wesley were best friends since kindergarten. When Wesley was six, his dad died in an auto accident and Wesley had become part of the Crawford family. Janet never minded that Wesley came along because, as she often told her brother, “He’s nicer to me than you are!”

Janet broke the silence. “Sounds like there’s plenty to do. “I’m sure we’ll have fun.”

“Yeah,” nodded Douglas, “and if not, we’ll just find our own fun.”

CHAPTER TWO

School ended. Reservations made. Bags packed. Snacks in the back seat. The Crawfords were ready for their road trip to Maine.

“If we leave early, take our time, make a few stops, we can be in Maine by midafternoon, just in time to check into our motel.” Mr. Crawford was psyched. He’d finally get to check out the optimum gas mileage on his car.

“I sent for the AAA travel guide, “Mrs. Crawford held up the book. “I can read you all kinds of interesting stuff about the east coast, you know, like population, geographical features, landmarks, so you don’t get bored.”

“C’mon, Mom. School’s out. No fair… just because you have us captive in the back seat,” groaned Douglas. “Besides, we got our phones, and we’ll probably sleep most of the way after getting up so early.”

Mrs. Crawford turned to her husband. “Anything you want to say.”

” Not me. I’m the driver. I keep my eyes and ears on the road at all times.”

Yes, his eyes and ears were on the road ahead. But Mrs. Crawford could still see a wide grin spread across his face.

Sure enough, by the time Mr. Crawford left the city limits and eased onto the highway all three were asleep.

And asleep they stayed until Mr. Crawford exited the highway and pulled into a roadside restaurant.

“Wake up back there! I need to stretch my legs and all of us need breakfast.”

One of the chain restaurants on the east coast was a good stop…fast service, bathrooms, hot food, more snacks,

Once they were settled back in the car, the kids amused themselves with their phones while Mrs. Crawford continued flipping through the pages of her travel guide. The sun was high in the sky, its heat streaming down with a vengeance.

“It’s just too hot on my side,” groaned Janet. “Aren’t you hot, Douglas?”

“Nope, I’m fine. But” …he paused. “I can change sides with you after the next stop.”

At the next stop, they switched sides, Wesley still in the middle. After a short while, Janet moaned, “It’s still real hot on this side.”

Douglas covered his mouth to hide his laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she griped.

When Douglas didn’t answer, Wesley said, “If you don’t tell her, I will.”

“Tell me what? C’mon, Wesley, tell me what?”

“When the sun comes up in the morning, it travels across the sky all through the day;” explained Wesley.

“So” …. said Janet.

“Well, when you switched sides with Douglas, the sun was moving to your side.”

“Douglas. you tricked me!” she shouted. “Mom, he tricked me.”

“Enough, you two. Find something quiet to do or I’ll start reading you the geographical formations of all the states we’re crossing, “she said, holding up and waving the travel guide.

As usual, mothers get the last word. No more negative sounds, at least not any audible ones were heard from the back seat. From then on, one more short stop for gasoline, and a stop at a rest area to eat the sandwiches packed for lunch. After they cleaned up, Wesley changed seats with Janet.

Mr. and Mrs. Crawford were happy to include Wesley on their vacations. He had a calm demeanor. Whenever Douglas and Janet were at odds with each other, Wesley somehow offered suggestions to satisfy them. And when he and Douglas were about to have a heated disagreement over something, Wesley had the foresight to come up with an excuse to go home.

SUDDENLY there it was! The sign that blared out at them.

WELCOME TO BAR HARBOR, MAINE

CHAPTER THREE

BAR HARBOR

It didn’t take long to settle in.

“Good work, Mom,” said Douglas. “You booked us a great place—two bedrooms, a sofa bed, two TV’s, even a small kitchen.”

“Thanks, but I’m not cooking. This is my vacation from the kitchen.”

“Understood,” chimed Mr. Crawford, catching the eye of all three kids. “Ok, let’s figure out what we’re going to do while we’re here. But first, let’s just walk around the town and get a feel for this place.”

Bar Harbor is a summer delight, surrounded by water and serving as a gateway to the mountains and Acadia National Park. Posters and signs are everywhere on the streets in this small, picturesque village, inviting visitors to experience art, concerts, bus and boat tours, hiking trails, lobster pounds, whale-watching, and, of course, shopping.

After a day of driving and exploring the village, the Crawfords were tired and hungry, so first on their agenda was food. And, in Bar Harbor, food is usually translated into lobsters. A short walk to a local lobster pound proved to be the perfect choice.

“I heard we catch our own lobster,” said Janet.

“Oh, no,” laughed Mr. Crawford. “That local fishermen catch the lobsters. They put them into tanks right on the counter and you get to pick one out. They weigh it, and that’s your lobster. You sit at a picnic table and, when it’s ready, they bring it out to you, complete with a nutcracker. You can order side stuff, like fries and coleslaw. No mess, just good fresh food.”

Their stomachs satisfied, they took their time walking back to their rooms and agreed that tomorrow they’d go whale-watching.

Although the Crawfords lived close to the Atlantic Ocean, they’d never been whale-watching. When they bought their tickets, they were advised to bring binoculars and a warm jacket or sweater. The boat travels 10-15 miles offshore and can take anywhere between 3-5 hours, depending upon when and where they spot whales.

Standing on deck the whole afternoon, they definitely needed their jackets. But the whales put on quite a show. Everyone oohed and aahed and clapped and took lots of pictures.

“Can we buy T-shirts? Douglas asked, eyeing racks of shirts with whales looking as if they were posing for the picture.

“Wait until we do a few more things. Tomorrow, we’re going to Acadia,” answered Mrs.. Crawford.

Sunrise broadcast a strong and bright day. After a quick breakfast at a local café (although Mrs. Crawford volunteered to make morning coffee), the Crawfords put on their walking shoes for their visit to Bar Harbor’s popular attraction. Designated a national park in 1916, the park was noted for its over 200 hiking trails.

Driving directions were easy. Mr. Crawford paid for a Federal Land Pass for his car and off they went, water bottles, walking sticks, sunscreen and picnic lunch.

At first, they simply drove the marked loop roads through the park, stopping to let the red squirrels, chipmunks, and other small mammals dart across the road.

Then they rented bicycles and traveled the paved roads, pedaling across stone bridges. By late afternoon, they studied the trail maps from the Visitor Center and decided to hike along one of the carriage roads that wind through the park forests and valleys.

It was an exhausting day but quite an experience.

“Maybe, if we go back, we can climb Cadillac Mountain,” suggested Wesley.

“Big maybe,” said Mrs. Crawford as she pulled her walking shoes off and slipped into a pair of comfortable slippers.

Later that evening, Douglas, Janet and Wesley went down to the lobby to check out the rack of brochures.

“Look at this,” Wesley pointed to a brochure advertising ghost walks.”

“Yeah, I can just see my mom saying yes to that,” laughed Douglas.

“Here’s one for an overnight cruise to Nova Scotia in Canada,” said Douglas.

Janet seemed entranced by a group of brochures advertising caves. She held up one, Anemone Sea Cave, a ferry ride away. “It’s filled with shell, rocks, and undersea stuff.” She paused. “But you have to go at low tide.”

“Yeah, or you’ll get washed ashore, or become part of that undersea stuff. No thanks,” said Douglas.

“Wait!” Janet held up another brochure with a photo of caves on St. Fredrick’s Island.

“This place has lots of caves. And legends of pirate treasures. And it’s a short ferry ride from an offshore island. We can get there by a bridge. And they give guided tours. I’m showing this to Mom and Dad.”