On Aug. 12 Vinalhaven made the news in an article in the New York Times titled, “When Conflict Washes Up On A Quiet Maine Island.” Conflict has surfaced here before, of course, as it does in any community. Maybe because of its small island setting, familiarity can breed both contempt and comfort. But to the credit of residents, resolution of conflict is valued more than conflict itself and the ethos that prevails favors solutions benefiting the greater good. In other words, individuals may occasionally need to back down or compromise when what they want is at odds with the best interests of the larger community. And, come to think of it, that’s one of the basic tenets in a democracy, isn’t it?

The conflict reporter Fred A. Bernstein described in the newspaper’s real estate section relates to an aquaculture lease for growing oysters in a 500-acre tidal inlet, the Basin, on Vinalhaven’s west side. According to Bernstein, the application by David Weller “for a farm that could produce a million oysters a year … has created an outcry. Dozens of people on this island have rallied to stop Mr. Weller and his partner, Melissa Berry, from farming in the Basin…”.

Why would residents — more than 500 of whom signed a petition formally challenging the state’s approval — oppose this? Bernstein implies Weller sees a certain irony in that. Islanders have traditionally made their living by working local waters, not with aquaculture but by fishing. Weller refers to the brightly-painted pot buoys that float thickly in the waters surrounding the island, marking thousands of lobster traps, and says, “…people think they’re kind of pretty … just part of the scenery.” So, by extension, one is left to assume it would be hypocritical of Vinalhaveners to object to aquaculture efforts when the island’s mainstay economic activity already utilizes that resource. When Tristan Jackson, a young man who grew up here and now teaches in the island’s public school, was queried by Bernstein for his reaction, he expressed a sentiment probably widely felt on Vinalhaven: “I think oyster farming is great. But not in that spot. The natural value of the Basin is far greater than its commercial value.”

So, maybe the problem isn’t that an aquaculture operation affects the environment, but that this particular one impacts this particular environment, an almost completely natural one. Only a few houses are near the Basin. Among its wild residents, there are eagles and osprey that raise their young here; porpoises and a bounty of seals; it is not uncommon to see pile-ups of the latter, maybe 20-some per huddle, basking on rocks in the sun. The Basin is one of the most notably serene spots on Vinalhaven, given that only a few motorized boats go in and out (Bernstein counts “hundreds” of lobster traps but there are fewer than 75) and recreational use by its visitors centers on kayaking, birding, hiking and photography. Many attribute to the Basin spiritual qualities, ones important to the community ethos. It is, in many ways, the soul of the island; a link to the past, a legacy to the future. The Basin inspires that kind of thinking: that place matters, has needs of its own.

An island resident for the past eighteen years, Weller knows that. He says, “I love the Basin as much as anyone.” So why would Weller have to put his oysters there, in the Basin? Well, the location has clean water and is conveniently located near Weller’s home and his other aquaculture site. The oysters will grow first in the salt water inlet of Old Harbor Pond. But the problem is that the oysters can’t fully mature there. Before the oysters are sold, they must reside in open water for three weeks. Although that could take place in another island inlet, the nearby Basin, according to Weller, is the best locale for him. Residents question his definition of “best,” fearing that the operation will introduce unnatural qualities of sound and light, both generator-driven, and possible pathogens where they never existed before.

A non-Vinalhaven voice weighed in for this Times article, that of Sebastian Belle, executive director of the industry-promoting Maine Aquaculture Association in Hallowell. Belle told Bernstein, “The real issue on Vinalhaven is that wealthy summer folk want to use the waterfront for recreational purposes, not commercial purposes. We have that conflict up and down the coast of Maine.” So, the reason aquaculture was opposed in Vinalhaven’s Basin, according to Belle, would be because wealthy people are trying to protect their own selfish interests. Well, it is true that most of the land around the Basin is owned privately, and over the past 20 years, 11 families, representing a mix of economic strata, have agreed to permanent deed restrictions on the way their land is used. These agreements were negotiated with the Vinalhaven Land Trust and the Maine Coast Heritage Trust out of a shared sense of mission to protect the Basin, described by VLT recently as a “rich, biologically diverse area … also fragile and vulnerable to problems associated with the introduction of disease, noise, and light.” While they have sacrificed the development of 650 acres and 34,000 feet of shoreline, waterfront real estate worth, as Bernstein wrote, “millions of dollars,” money only buys so much. They don’t own the water. And, as Weller explains, “the state can lease it for aquaculture.”

It doesn’t mean any water anywhere is fair game for the state to approve for aquaculture. The state will not grant a lease where it would interfere with, described here in shorthand, things like “significant wildlife and marine habitat,” “fishing and other uses of the area,” and “the public’s use and enjoyment of public parks and facilities or certain publicly-owned conserved lands within 1,000 feet of the proposed lease.” It is unclear why the state decided to ignore the demonstrable significance of the Basin as a wildlife and marine habitat. The evidence is there. As well, the public does use and enjoy it, thanks to easements allowing access. If the conserved land had been sold to the town or state instead for public ownership, would the state have had more reason to protect the Basin from this aquaculture venture? That appears to be the case. Yet, as Lucy McCarthy, executive director of the Vinalhaven Land Trust, pointed out to Bernstein, owners who agree to keep the land undeveloped, without requiring the state to maintain the property, are providing a public service.

Is Belle’s assessment of the problem a fair one? It suggests that if you oppose aquaculture, you must therefore identify with or support the interests of “wealthy people.” That generalization could be divisive in a community as well as being untrue. On Vinalhaven, a recent meeting at the end of August organized by Samantha Horn Olsen, aquaculture policy coordinator of Maine’s Department of Marine Resources, provided the opportunity to ask questions about the lease and its Basin-sited operation. The audience of several hundred consisted mostly of year-round and seasonal island residents, although neither Ms. Berry nor Mr.Weller was in attendance. Did anyone object to aquaculture per se? No. The concerns were specific to the use of the Basin for that activity. “Typical” Vinalhaveners — a diverse cross-section of islanders — passionately spoke against it. No one represented the interests Belle implied were opposing it. Based on the characterization he shared with Bernstein, Belle seems to inaccurately assess “opposition” — at least on Vinalhaven — when questions are raised about aquaculture. Simplistic thinking — that one explanation should fit all situations — doesn’t work well when attempting to address complexity. To support aquaculture and want it appropriately located is not to oppose aquaculture or to protect the aesthetics and recreational value of wealthy people’s properties. Vinalhaven residents are working on this issue in more constructive and generative ways than succumbing to the blame game. q

Tina Cohen writes at Old Harbor, Vinalhaven.