ISLE AU HAUT — Island communities can be as fragile as their ecosystems. Without critical mass and essential human infrastructure—schools, health care facilities, churches and coffee shops—they risk becoming enclaves for wealthy retirees and those who can afford seasonal homes.

With those fears in mind, the non-profit group Isle au Haut Community Development Corporation, or ICDC, has been working since the early 1990s to create, among other things, housing to lure families to the island.

The island’s population dips below 40 in the winter, so the need for new blood is critical, said Bill Calvert, a financial advisor who works from the island home he shares with his wife Nancy, a retired nurse. He serves on ICDC’s board. With a $350,000 grant from Maine Housing and $200,000-plus raised by the organization, ICDC has built three houses, selling one to an island business, Black Dinah Chocolatiers, to help it grow. The other two became available earlier this year.

After a news story in the Bangor Daily News drew 42 inquiries, Calvert said, a committee helped sort and evaluate those interested in a move to the island. Among those chosen were Tracy Batteese and Julie Greenberg and Jake and Abi Maxwell.

NEWLYWED INNKEEPERS

Tracy Batteese, 56, had worked for L.L. Bean for over 20 years and lived in Freeport. Julie Greenberg, 45, lived in Philadelphia before moving to Blue Hill in 1990, though among her ties to Maine was her father’s popular music bistro, The Left Bank Café.

The couple seemed ready to exhale during an interview in early October, as they anticipated the Columbus Day Weekend, when the Keeper’s House inn would close for the season. Both landed on the island in May to work at the inn, which had just reopened after five years as a private residence.

The two had recently married, and were excited about the prospect of doing something new as a couple. Greenberg is the inn’s chef, while Batteese keeps the buildings and systems up and running, including photovoltaic panels, a generator and a reverse osmosis water purifier.

“I actually get to putter down there,” he said. “There’s projects galore. It’s a dream job in a very idyllic place.”

Greenberg echoed that sentiment, saying, “We feel like we’re fulfilling a dream, rather than collecting a paycheck.”

Greenberg, who has worked in restaurants for years, was hired as an assistant cook but quickly became head chef, preparing the continental and full breakfasts, boxed lunches for guests who explore the island by day, and then appetizers and four-course meals in the evening.

During conversation, Batteese praised her sandwiches as works of art. While talking about their new life, Greenberg kept an eye on cinnamon and brown sugar popovers baking in the oven; the delicious results attested to her skills as a chef.

Though the early season at the inn was slow, many guests expressed their love for the former lighthouse residence, and so both Greenberg and Batteese are confident next season will bring more visitors through word-of-mouth advertising and return visits.

Their jobs will end for the year with the inn’s closure, but both are looking forward to some down time, hoping to “revel in our solitude,” as Greenberg put it. Their friends worry they’ll go crazy during the long winter months, both said.

The couple visited friends on the island last winter and enjoyed cross-country skiing the fresh snow, so they know what awaits them.

The house in which they live was built by ICDC on a town-owned lot next to the island fire station and across the street from the school. The location comes as close to being the center of the community as any place on the island. The generator that kicks in when the island’s electric cable to the mainland fails is directly behind the house.

The long, narrow shape of the building gives its interior the feel of a city townhouse. Batteese and Greenberg are still working to arrange furniture in the open first floor to give it a homey feel, but the modern kitchen with an island, large windows along one wall and high ceilings make for a pleasant, airy space. Upstairs, boxes from their recent move remain unopened, evidence of how busy the inn has kept them.

The house wasn’t completed until July. It was designed by an architect who donated his services and built with energy efficiency in mind. Propane runs a heating unit, the cook stove and hot water heater. The couple pays $650 a month rent. The house is available for purchase only after 15 years.

They have high-speed Internet and can get satellite TV, but decline to do so. Without the need to have a car, but with the added cost of the mailboat for trips to the mainland, they say the cost of living is about comparable to living on the coast.

For now, Batteese and Greenberg are thinking about buying land on the island and building their own home.

“We’ve kicked it around,” he said, perhaps starting a business of some kind.

Island life is different, but mostly welcome, they say.

“I feel pretty well adjusted,” Greenberg said. Both were surprised, though, at how rumors fly. One had them taking over the island store, which they found mystifying.

Still, they feel at home.

“I think we’ve been readily accepted in the community,” Batteese said.

“I really like a sense of home, of place,” Greenberg said, and Isle au Haut has provided that.

WRITER AND BAKER

For Jake and Abi Maxwell, both 33, and their 1-year-old son Felix, the move to the island was more impulsive, she said. They’ve lived in Montana and her native New Hamsphire, and like the adventure new locations bring.

“We randomly typed into a search engine ‘Living on an island in Maine,'” and came across a Boston Globe story about Isle au Haut’s search for new residents, Abi said.

Abi’s older brother lives in South Addison, east of Ellsworth. Both she and Jake are close to him, and through him they’ve learned about life in Maine.

Moving to the island was part of a plan. Abi had published her first novel, Lake People, and was eager to start her second.

“Initially,” she said, the move was “to keep me writing full time.” That, and because they wanted to live in a safe, rural environment.

“We wanted to be in a place we could ride our bikes and not be run over,” Abi said.

Jake ended up getting hired by Black Dinah as a baker—a job at which he was accomplished—and a full time job materialized, a job he grew to love.

“This was such a good opportunity for him to work,” she said.

But with a young child, Abi has struggled to make time to write, and she sometimes feels isolated, craving time with other young mothers.

Through her brother, she and Jake learned that Down East has some rough edges. But that was overcome by being chosen to live on the island.

“People wanted us here,” she said.

To connect with other mothers, she takes the mailboat to Stonington one day a week and drives to Blue Hill where she and Felix join a playgroup with other young children.

It can be lonely, Abi said, perhaps because the island doesn’t have places where people can mingle. The library, she noted, is open just a few hours a week. Yet when Felix marked his first birthday a few days earlier, several people knew and fussed over him.

Early in their time on the island, Felix was sick and she called Bill’s wife Nancy, who was at the house in a matter of minutes. The next night at 4 a.m., when his condition worsened, Bill was there to transport the family to the mainland hospital in his boat.

“I like the privacy,” and she looks forward to winter, her favorite season.

A visit to Black Dinah to chat with Jake found him pouring chocolate onto trays and cutting them for shipping.

“It’s been really good,” he said of the move. “You can bike everywhere, you can hike, there’s access to the outdoors.” Still, he acknowledged the challenges, especially with a young child.

And Abi may find fertile ground for her work.

“There’s something that feels sort of fictional about the place,” she said. “When I go into the post office, I feel like I’m in a story book, and I love that.”