Maine: Moby Lobster

Text: John M. Flores • Photography: John M. Flores, Sandy Noble

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago I was haunted—by a lobster. Not just any crustacean, mind you, but “Moby Lobster,” a Maine variety so tasty and succulent that it lives on in my dreams. Every other dinner decapod since then has been doomed to mediocrity. Can you imagine how hard my life is back in New Jersey, ordering the surf and turf, and responding “meh?” I need to break free of this ravenous torment, so with my good friend Sandy on my six, I ride to the home of Moby Lobster and do what has to be done—eat more.

The Hunt Begins, after Lunch

The sun begins its long journey across the sky. The mighty Atlantic breaks upon the sands of York Beach. Somewhere in these waters lives a lobster (or four) with my name, and we (Sandy on a well-ridden Yamaha FJR and me on a 2012 BMW R 1200 RT) are earnest in our quest, but not that earnest. First, we have to see a woman about a bird. We dance along the coast until Biddeford and then head inland to cruise the quiet byways of Maine’s coastal farmland. We arrive at Phat Boys Diner in Cornish and have a Thanksgiving sandwich—turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and cranberry sauce piled high between two thick slices of bread. We skip dessert and aim our bikes back to the sea, countering a tryptophan-induced haze with caffeine. We ride until the road meets the sea again at Boothbay Harbor. At the Fisherman’s Wharf Inn, the dining room looks out upon the same waters that greeted us in the morning, but now the sun is at our backs and bidding adieu. The lobsters (two one-pounders) are very good; better than I’ve had in months. But it’s much too early for the quest to end.

Deep in the Heart

The land and the sea do a delicate dance in this part of the state—inlets, isthmuses, islands, and bays intertwined in a geological jigsaw. Our first stop, the Pemaquid Point Lighthouse, is but a handful of miles away as the crow flies, but as a Mainer might say with their distinctive accent, “You can’t get there from here.” Instead we wander, zig and zag, and eventually make our way to the picturesque lighthouse. It looks familiar, and it should—it’s featured both on the Maine State Quarter and as a background option for Windows 7. Sitting on exposed veins of granite reaching out to sea, the lighthouse is a short stout thing, lathered in what must be 20 layers of white marine paint to withstand the harshest of winter storms. It is sturdiness personified.

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For the complete touring article, including facts & information, map(s), and GPS files, please purchase the September/October 2013 back issue.