Many coastwise sailors have discovered Rockland is worth visiting after all,
with its museums, shops, marinas, sailmakers and marine hardware.

It’s a far cry from the old days, when earlier editions of Roger Duncan’s
Cruising Guide to the New England Coast recommended skipping
Rockland unless you were desperate. The place was pretty industrial — as in
rotten fish smell — the harbor was polluted and yacht accommodations nowhere
to be found.

Now yachts far outnumber fishing boats in the big harbor. Main Street is
gentrified and full of boutiques. MBNA built a telemarketing center on the
waterfront, tearing down ramshackle buildings and landscaping everything.

Can things go too far? Is a working waterfront an affront to all this upscale
development?

One of the survivors of Rockland’s down-and-out era is Conte’s more-than-
you-can-eat, fresh seafood restaurant, which looks like bait shack, sits on pilings
and has a priceless waterfront view. It’s surrounded by stacked lobster crates
and other fishing paraphernalia. Is this a rustic coastal scene, or just a mess?

This spring the Rockland Harbor Commission concluded the latter, and sent
a go-clean-up-your-room note to proprietor John Conte, who says he is a “crazy
Italian.”

Crazy like a fox, perhaps. He has turned criticism of his establishment into a
resounding “leave the poor guy alone” campaign, with the advice that if you want
fast food and a plastic environment, better steer clear of Conte’s. This is a one-
of-a-kind place.

The harbor panel’s letter happened to arrive just as Conte was applying to
renew his liquor license. So the Rockland city council said whoa; but under
intense public pressure from loyal Conte customers, the booze permit was
renewed. Conte can simply ignore the harbor commission letter, if he so
chooses. He does.

Things are changing around him. As a yachting crowd replaces the
commercial fishing fleet in the harbor and alongshore, this may not be the last of
the Conte controversy.

Old lobster crates and other fishing gear lie around the makeshift building.
Indoors, with its wide-open view of the harbor, the restaurant’s tables are spread
with newspaper “tablecloths,” candles are stuck in old wine bottles, the floor is
covered in sawdust and the menu is scrawled on a roll of blank newsprint that
hangs from the rafters.

“Funky” hardly does Conte’s justice. It’s a relaxed, homey kind of place
known for huge helpings of seafood and John Conti’s (use “e” or “i” it’s all the
same to him) great rounds of fresh-baked bread. As a 12-year-old boy wrote to
a local newspaper, every time he visits the restaurant “it’s an adventure.”

That’s not how the Harbor Management Commission put it in a letter to Conti
dated April 3. “It is the opinion of the [commission] that the appearance of the
property housing Conti’s is well beyond reasonable limits of propriety. What has
been called unique here is a junkyard anywhere else in the city.”

The letter goes on to suggest the city council may enact new ordinances
which could force Conti to clean up the site, which adjoins the public landing and
a large city parking lot. The site sits north of MBNA’s new Rockland
headquarters, and just below the former Rockland Courier-Gazette building,
newly purchased by MBNA.

When word of the harbor commission criticism hit the daily newspapers,
people from around the state expressed support for Conte’s. “It will be a sorry
day if Rockland gives up its last vestige of an honest, working harbor to satisfy
the sterile landscaping of … MBNA,” wrote Dorothy Hopkins of Wallagrass.

It’s one of a sheaf of letters Conti keeps on a clipboard in his kitchen.
“Dinner? There is no place outside of New York City, certainly not in Maine,
where one can come close to enjoying the unique decor, the wonderful
ambience, and above all, the freshest, most succulent food as at Conte’s,”
Hopkins wrote. She praised Rockland for turning down a super Wal-mart, and
said Conte’s is a treasure.

Conti grew up Westchester, N.Y., and remembers Sweet’s and Sloppy
Louie’s, two famous no-frills restaurants that lured customers to New York’s old
Fulton Fish Market. He opened Conte’s eight years ago, drawing on family
restaurant experience. He said customers come to Conte’s for food and a
genuine atmosphere created by fish nets and lobster crates. “That’s why people
come here. They don’t come here for friggin’ palm trees and stainless steel,”
Conti said. “This place is not structured for the tourist. It’s 365. It doesn’t change
when July 4th hits.”

Harbor master Jon Trumble, who signed the harbor commission letter as
their secretary, said no further action is planned.

He said the timing of the letter had nothing to do with Conti’s liquor license
application, since approved by the city council. Trumble acknowledged that the
restaurant site is neater than it used to be.

Conti said the place “was falling into the ocean” when he took over. “This
place is what it is. I’ve got a sign on the door that says ‘no kitchen doors.’ You
come in here, you want to go in the walk-in box (cooler) and get some milk or get
a salad, go right in. There’s nothing to hide here.”

Conte’s offers a different menu each night, with specialties such as salmon
verdi, canestrelli (scallops), pesce porchetta (haddock and sausage) and astaco
(lobster). As patron Elizabeth Tobey of Rye, N.H., put it in a letter to a Portland
newspaper, “abundant and excellent food, moderately priced, and au naturel.
Conte’s is a true Maine icon … a consistent gathering place for people in blue
collar and professional garb alike. A place where we’ve had the pleasure, more
than once, to speak with members of the Wyeth family.”

Stacy Palmer of Rockport wrote, “I seriously question whether this needs to
be a hoity-toity city with a dress code.”

A letter to Rockland city manager Tom Hall, from Anthony Wesson of
Moncton, New Brunswick, says the Harbor Commission’s view, “it appears,
would have eating establishments conform perhaps to the standards of
McDonald’s, Pizza Hut or similar restaurants… We truly believe (Conte’s) is an
asset to your waterfront and it would be a great disappointment to see
individualism become the mundane.”

One thing about the flap over Conte’s seems indisputable. All the publicity
can only mean an upsurge in business. He doesn’t advertise, a lesson he says
he learned from his grandfather: You put out a good meal, you treat your
customers right, they come back. Word gets around.

“Conte’s is one of the great places you tell other people about, they go and
then tell others. No checks, no credit cards, no microwaves, no freezers and,
please, no hassles for Conte’s,” says a letter to the city manager from Louise
and Bob Hardina of Bristol.