I had just returned from 4 years in the Peace Corps and had no desire to rush into modern Maine life. Of course that was over shadowed by the voices of my parents telling me to either go back to school for my masters or get a job. So after looking at the classified section of Sunday's paper, it only seemed logical that I would teach K-8 in a one room school on a little island that I had never heard of before or go back to being a student myself.

Little did I know how unique the next three years would turn out, when I got the call for a ten o'clock interview at the Mount Desert office of the superintendent of Union 98. Part way into that interview the assistant superintendent jumped up and announced that we had to leave so we could make the mail-boat to Little Cranberry Island. We boarded the mailboat in Northeast Harbor and as I bounced along riding the waves, I began to question my fitness for island life. As the boat pulled up to the dock I felt as nervous as a three-legged cat at the county dog show. My heart was pumping wildly but I didn't miss the beauty of Maine that engulfed me as I stepped on to land.

The head of the school board was there to greet us and take us to the school. As we walked up the hill to the school, Barb was our tour guide.

She explained there were three docks. One was for the mail-boat, one for the lobster co-op., and the last held a restaurant that opened in the summer. People could eat there and look through the spaces between the floorboards at the water below. You could eat there but you couldn't ride your bike down on the dock since there was a big sign that said any bikes beyond the sign would be launched. There was also a small sailor museum that was only open in the summer. On the way up the hill, we passed a home that Barb said sold hardware from a basement room and right next to the school was the grocery/post office.

By the time we reached the school, I knew I wanted to teach on Islesford.

At the school I met all 10 of my future students except Roy and all the parents not out lobstering at the time. The gathering also included all the other island winter residents. It was very informal and I soon lost track of who was who. Soon it was time to board the mail-boat and make the return trip to Northeast Harbor, a small village on the coast of the island of Mount Desert Island. Now I only had to wait for the call to tell me if I had the job or not.

I am sure that wait aged me.

I haven't gotten my masters yet but I did get to teach in a one-room school on an island. My first year, I had ten students ranging in grades 1 through 7. These children were like a big family. Each one knew the others strengths and each knew all the others weakness. They treated each other like siblings but often not friendly siblings. They could be at each other's throats in a flash. They called me Bev and often dropped by my house to visit. The first day I noticed the older boys wore knifes. I would freak out now but then it only made me a little nervous. That afternoon we went outside to play touch football and the boys matter-of -factly put their knives in the notch of a tree at the side of the playground. When school and the game ended for the day, I asked Roy about the knives. He looked at me as if I was a little simple and explained that the knives were important tools for a lobsterman. In fact this knife might save his life if his feet got tangled in the lines one day. I forgot about the knifes until the day I borrowed one while making peanut butter and fluff sandwiches. If we had been on a boat, I am sure I would have had to walk the plank.

My job was to teach school, be the daily janitor, burn the garbage, and start the fire engine in case of a fire on the island. The fire engine was housed in a building attached to the school. Fire on an island is no joking matter and I prayed every night that I wouldn't get to start the engine. My prayers were answered and we were fire free.

I taught the regular subjects in much the same way that teachers in one-room schools have always taught. I used the older students to help the younger. We did a lot of neat things in those two years.

We invited all the senior citizens on the island to lunch. The admission was telling us about school when they were kids. The children selected molded salad and cookie recipes from my cookbooks, made a shopping list, and voted who would help me shop on the mainland. Then just before the event we baked cookies, prepared salads, and colored decorations.

The next morning we stuffed finger rolls and practiced pouring ice tea and coffee. We were all nervous but once the guest arrived, everyone had a wonderful time and learned a lot about what life used to be like.

Every year the school went on a skiing trip for a week. I personally have the grace of a cow and the thought of being responsible for 10 children on skis scared me to death. I convinced everyone that what they really wanted to do was take swimming lessons. So for the next 12 weeks we traveled by mail-boat to Northeast Harbor then by private cars to the YMCA in Bar Harbor to learn to swim. I was amazed by how many people living 3 miles out in the ocean didn't know how to swim.

We started a school newspaper, sold and delivered it to the people on the island for 25 cents an issue. We did this until we had enough money to go off island and have pizza at Pizza Hut.

We went off island to visit Norlands, an educational visit into 1850 school and farm life. We started with the school house experience. While the females cooked supper, the males did the farm chores. After supper, we had a hayride and played parlor games. The next day we experienced 1850-farm life before we headed back to the coast.

Another trip off the island took us to an Agricultural Fair. That night, we slept on the floor of a schoolhouse and got up the next morning to go pick apples. We picked over 500 pounds of apples and loaded them into my Pinto. We sold these apples on the island and used the money to pay for our trip.

Our attempt to beat cabin fever was holding Whist Parties every Friday night. For one dollar you could play all evening. If you were the winner you got a lobster from the co-op. The families made refreshments, the kids sold them, and the families bought them. We made money to finance our many trips off island.

The next year my 7th graders were 8th graders ready to graduate from the one-room school and head off to the mainland for high school. We now had two kindergartners in school. This was to be my last year since I longed to be reunited with my car. I wanted to jump in my car and go somewhere without thinking of a boat schedule. It was fun but now I was ready for modern Maine life.