Sharing the Dirty History: Casco Bay Estuary Partnership on Portland's Waterfront

Waterfront Educational Sign, Bell Buoy Park, Commercial Street

"Dozens of factories and foundries poured heavy metals, cyanide, arsenic, and powerful acids into Casco Bay. Shipyards used copper and toxic paints which also ended up in the Bay."

Not all history is pretty. When it comes to an environmental history, in Maine and elsewhere, whitewashed narratives about Yankee ingenuity of the industrial era doesn't serve the public well. Fortunately, interpretion of history has moved out of classrooms and museum galleries and onto the streets, a several decade old movement known as "public history." However, it's fair to say that one of the most noticeable examples in Portland has only now hit the streets.

Wabanaki History Casco Bay

The Casco Bay Estuary Partnership has created educational signs that interpret the history and ecology of Casco Bay. According to their website, the Partnership devotes itself to "protecting and restoring the water quality, and fish and wildlife habitat of the Casco Bay ecosystem, while ensuring compatible human uses." The collection of interpretive signs - newly installed at the Bell Buoy Park between Flatbread Pizza and Casco Bay Lines Ferry Terminal on Commercial Street - encourages waterfront pedestrians to think about Wabanaki use of Casco Bay resources prior to European Contact, as well as Portland's history as the largest commercial shipping port in the nation. One sign reads:

“The coal dust from the harbor
was so thick we had to sweep up the
mess every single morning.” 
Randolph Dominic, Sulkowitch Hardware & Paint Co., Fore Street
(Historian William David Barry) 

The project takes a step further, encouraging the public to consider how daily choices - corporate and individual - impact the quality of our marine environment and, in turn, our lives.

As a fourth generation Mainer descended from farmers, lumbermen, and wholesale fish distributors, I advocate for the healthy relationship between the Maine economy and natural resource extraction. On the other hand, as a scholar with a degree in Geology and research and work experience in groundwater science, I know that we've erred dramatically in the history of interacting with our environment. Without a doubt, there is much still to learn from these mistakes.

Kudos to the Partnership for taking these insights to the street.

Yo, Ho, Ho, History of Pirates!

I'm the first to confess that I like (really, really like) Johnny Depp and that my iPod contains the Pirates of the Caribbean track. Do I redeem myself if I enjoy reading about real pirates and the history of rum production and trans-Atlantic trade during the colonial era?

Mind you, this is not history for the faint of heart. Colonial maritime trade and the history of piracy are full of corruption, violence, treachery, and exploitation. Of course I abhor the history of human bondage and environmental destruction entrenched in the stories of how sea captains plied their trade from Europe to Africa to South and Central American and then northward along the Atlantic coast of the "New World."

As current headlines tell us, there's little reason to romanticize piracy. It's dirty business at best. Deadly business at worst. So what's the fascination? Beyond Johnny Depp, I mean.

Maybe I'm drawn to the tension - as in the tension between the awful truth of the history and the spectacular peg-legged stereotypes that represent that history.

Where better to explore the gap between historic truth and fanciful fiction of piracy than the Maine coast? What? Didn't you know pirates terrorized our crenulated coastline?

Some might think that British Captain Henry Mowatt initiated piracy in these parts when he bombarded and destroyed Portland (then called Falmouth) in October of 1775. But, alas, it started much earlier. A long, rainy afternoon with Maine's own Colin Woodard will set you straight. Woodard penned the fascinating The Republic of Pirates. A careful read reveals that the Caribbean didn't claim all the action. Late 17th century and early 18th century pirates careened their sailing ships at places like Monhegan Island where they could restore the ship's hull in relative peace.

Aarrr, so if you're one of the blokes that likes history and pirates - real and imagined - then surrender to Woodard. He takes no prisoners.