Eastport, Maine. A tiny little fishing village on the far eastern edge of the USA. The main reason for stopping here was to get US immigration out of the way so we can enjoy a full day in Portland tomorrow. Portland has things to do. Portland has things to see. Our stop in Eastport, according to the paper we were given by the ship, would be “mostly utilitarian.” The whole point was to get us through customs. If there was time to go ashore and poke around in this little town with nothing to do, then so be it.

We had brekkie, then went back to bed, as was our habit of late. Then we went up for lunch (fish and chips) and headed over to immigration when our group was called. No photos of that process, obviously. After that, we thought, “what the hell, might as well go ashore and see what’s there.”

…and what was there ended up being my favourite stop on the cruise so far.

The first thing we noticed were the pirate flags. Jolly Rogers everywhere! It turns out that this was the first day of Eastport Pirate Festival, a three-day event that the locals all really get into.

Even if it hadn’t been Pirate Festival weekend, the little town offered up a dozen or so shops and galleries, pubs, restaurants, and antique stores, all worthy of a look-see. It’s not uncommon for a little town to show off their local artists… it is uncommon for so much of the local artwork to be this good.

Most of the art reflected life in that part of the world, with sea scenes, boats, fishing shacks, that sort of thing….

…but every so often, there was something special, out-of-character for the environment, like this piece that Rob and I both really liked.

Of course, I had to get the obligatory photos of both the mermaid and fisherman statues

The city had a really charming vibe to it, there were lots of old buildings to admire, and they had the cutest cop car I’ve ever seen.

All that walking around town (both blocks of it!) had us parched, so we stopped in at Ye Ole Hooker’s pub. This was mandatory, as Brian and Deb’s last name is Hooker. Had a Maine-local brew called “Killer Bunny” which was pretty good.

As we were leaving the place, I popped off to the washroom, and the piped-in music was easier to hear. It was a rap song, which I thought was a bit out of place for the surroundings, and I almost tuned it out, but the beat was fire. So I listened while I washed up and recognized the vocals as belonging to Nine and Dex, who happen to be Pete and Bas’ grandsons… or nephews, I don’t remember which. Regardless, they’re the ones that make all the beats for their grandpas to rap to. (that sentence is pretty wild when you think about it). I’m not a fan of theirs at all, but it was crazy hearing their music at a pub in a little fishing village.

Speaking of music I’m not a fan of, after dinner, the big show was country and western tunes.

I’ll be fair - their singing wasn’t bad tonight. However, these are a bunch of British kids (and one Scot) who weren’t even alive when these songs were written and you can tell that their age and their UK upbringing were a huge barrier to them when trying to convey the heart behind songs from Dolly, Reba, Johnny Cash, Kenny Rogers, etc. At least the ginger Scot looked pretty cute in his cowboy hat!

And that was about it for the day. Considering we weren’t expecting anything at all today, the quaint little village with their pirate festival was a nice surprise and it ended up being one of the highlights of the trip so far.

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