Buddy's got his Balls - Nordhaven Island, Maine

We anchored in Pulpit Bay and followed arrows along the road to an oyster shack. After a mile, a man shouted out, “Buddy’s got his balls.” A stock perfect, male yellow lab was on the trail of a nearby female dog in heat. Zoe, Zac’s 9 month-old pup, was with us, and a fellow named Raymond Beverage wanted us to know that “Buddy” would likely mount anything with four legs. Raymond was about 6 beers into a case of Bud. He pointed out the fridge loaded with bags of fresh oysters. “Help yourselves, put the money in the can." We picked out a dozen and stuffed the can.

Raymond is a NordHaven native. His family has been on this island for 280 years.  He happily lived in a shack behind the oyster shed. The owner of the oyster farm, yep it’s called a farm, was in town running an errand. Raymond said the oysters were raised right in the little bay to the north and were shipped all over the states. The conversation then turned to the weather. Earlier in the day, we heard that last winter had brought a week of temps below -20 degrees.  I asked Raymond about it. He smiled and said: “Yeah, that’s what wood's for.”

Chris, Zac, Kelly and I shucked happy hour on the boat. Kelly even enjoyed a raw oyster. Unfortunately for me, the boys loved them as well. They were equally shared. The freshness bar is now set pretty high now for all those “other oysters.”

Zac picked up Zoe and carried her on his shoulders. We lost track of Buddy. Raymond never left the stump he was sitting on.



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