Four years ago, in the spring of 2005, SAD 51 proposed elimination of the fourth and fifth grades at Chebeague Island’s K-5 school- a proposal that would set in a motion a small but powerful revolution in Casco Bay.

At the front lines stood Mabel Doughty, then 82.

“It’s time to row our own boat!” she pronounced.

It wasn’t the first time Doughty had voiced her opinion at a town meeting. It wouldn’t be the last time either. But after the school district’s disturbing proposal, the community of Chebeague Island embraced her emphatic statement as a battle call.

Chebeague Island, with about 360 year-round residents was governed by the mainland town of Cumberland, population 7,159. The years leading up to Chebeague’s independence were marked by disagreements over school and town management and sharp rises in property taxes that threatened families who have lived in homes overlooking Casco Bay for generations.

The islanders were nervous about the future of their community, but did not want to separate themselves from Cumberland unless absolutely necessary. That necessity became apparent after officials from School Administrative District 51 proposed removing the two top grades at the two-room Chebeague Island School. To many residents this meant not only that nine-year -olds would be taking the ferry to school on the mainland every day, but that the downsize would inevitably lead to closure of the school, eliminating a vital component of the year round community and shoving Chebeague one step closer to becoming a strictly summer community.

“There was always talk,” says Doughty, now 86, a petite, white haired woman with a wizened voice and radiant smile. “Every once in a while people would get mad at Cumberland, ‘We ought to be our own town!’ But it never got off the ground. Until the thought that we might lose the school [became a reality]…that is what propelled it.”

The rumblings for change turned into action with meetings, public hearings, and finally, legislation. And Doughty was on the front lines, oars in hand.  She was a persuasive force in Augusta, an articulate and passionate islander speaking out for her community of six decades. In April 2006, the state House of Representatives voted 136 to 1 and the Senate voted 31 to 3 in favor of Chebeague’s separation from Cumberland. The islanders had a little over a year to prepare for the official turnover which would take place the following July.

The banners and balloons celebrating the first Chebeague Independence Day have long since faded and popped, but Doughty and others involved in the secession movement have not stopped working. Like all islands, volunteers keep things running. “If you’re willing to live out here you’re more creative, more energetic, more willing to get involved,” says Bob Earnest, president of the Chebeague Island Community Association (CICA). Since secession, Earnest has noticed a spike in involvement in a place where civic participation was already relatively high.

Earnest believes things are going as well as they could be for the new town. He says that the concentration of Chebeaguers skilled and experienced in civic work on the island and mainland paved the way towards a smooth transition. “Everything we have to do today we knew up front. But it’s hard work.”

As in any group, differences of opinion occur. In the best of cases they generate ideas and innovations, but sometimes tempers flare and discussions turn into heated debates. In a place where your fiercest opponent on an issue may also your next-door neighbor, politics can take a toll on relations. But Earnest is confident that islanders, including himself, are realizing that it’s a small collective boat they are in and are making an effort to get past the personal and concentrate on the greater island good.

Mary Holt has been coming to the island for 35 years. Her mother in law, Cynthia Sheketoff, bought a rambling old sea captain’s house in the 1950s and became a “year rounder” in the early 70s. Sheketoff was a feisty and active participant in the community and fiercely loved the island and its “real” people, and her son and daughter in law are continuing in her Bean-booted footsteps. They moved to the island after her death in 2007 and have imbedded themselves in the community.

Mary, in semi-retirement after 30 years in the Connecticut school system, is the special education teacher at the Chebeague Island School. She experiences the benefits of secession every day in the classroom. Although she hadn’t taught on the island pre-secession, the feedback from parents has been overwhelmingly positive. “Now the teachers are able to tailor instruction to align with island life, and still meet instructional standards, due to greater flexibility within the curriculum,” she says. Chebeague’s school has modified its curriculum to reflect the multi-age classrooms, a necessity after struggling with an educational system geared towards larger single-grade classrooms on the mainland. In addition to a more flexible schedule, physical education, speech and language therapy, occupational therapy and special education programs have been expanded, none of which was possible before secession. Having an administrative staff in the building has also made it easier for the teachers to acquire what is needed and focus on teaching; in previous years teachers often juggled administrative and teaching roles.

Though much of the secession has brought positive and palpable change, some solutions are not so immediate.

“The biggest obstacle we face now is getting young people to move out to the island and have families,” says Earnest. He is adamant that affordable housing and job creation is imperative to attract young families and keep the islanders that are already there. Job creation is another constant dilemma. The summer population swells to approximately 1,700 during three months of the year creating many seasonal opportunities for employment, but this leaves newcomers or native islanders who want to work in their own community wondering what gaps they can fill. Earnest sees farming and aquaculture as possible additions to the service, fishing, and infrastructure jobs now available on Chebeague.

The community knows that part of Chebeague’s vitality is due to its dedicated working waterfront and is committed to making sure that lobster boats stay moored in Chebeague’s numerous coves. The recent dramatic fluctuations in lobster prices have only intensified those feelings. In January the island lobstermen held a meeting addressing the problems and possible solutions facing Chebeague’s fishermen. The residents of Chebeague turned out to listen, learn, and contribute feedback to envision ways to sustain their neighbors’ way of life and in turn the island’s unique community

Sitting at her home on Bennett’s Cove last fall, the house her husband Sanford was born and raised in, Mabel Doughty stared out the picture window at the grey green of Casco Bay and the fishing boats shifting in the wind. Doughty has confidence in her community, even with the expected bumps along the road. “We’ve saved something I think by becoming a town. It was the right thing to do. There were times when we were working so hard and I thought, ‘Can we do this?’ But gee whiz, we should’ve done it sooner.”

It should be noted that Mabel Doughty is Working Waterfront Editor David A. Tyler’s grandmother-in-law.