adventure yacht harbor

Adventure Yacht Harbor

November 23rd: Closed December 24th: Closed December 25th: Closed December 31st: 8 a.m. – 1 p.m. January 1st: 7:45 a.m. – 5 p.m.

Ronnie Hopkins

Copyright © Windward Marina Group, LLC

Windward Adventure Yacht Harbor

Play in the heart of downtown baltimore, marina info.

Windward Adventure Yacht Harbor is a premier boating destination, situated just a stone’s throw away from the renowned Daytona Beach, Florida. Nestled amidst picturesque waterfront scenery, this protected marina offers 90 wet slips and 50 covered slips, all conveniently located just 100 yards from the ICW and 3 miles north of the Ponce Inlet. Accommodating vessels up to 60 ft long with a draft of 5 ft or less, Windward Adventure Yacht Harbor is the perfect stop for boaters looking to savor delicious meals and breath-taking sunset views at the onsite restaurant, Boondocks. Exciting updates, including new docks and improved infrastructure, are on the horizon as part of the marina's commitment to be the ultimate waterfront experience.

For mor information, contact the marina at 386-756-2180 or email [email protected].

Facebook: Adventure Yacht Harbor. Instagram: thewindwardmarinagroup

2024 Rates: Daily- $3.00/ft. Monthly- $19.00/ft. Annual- $16.00/ft.

Cancellation Policy: Cancellations received less than 24 hours prior to the first day of a reservation will incur a cancellation fee equal to one night’s dockage fee.

Fuel Prices

All Year: Mon - Sun 07:30 am - 05:00 pm

Payment Types

Max Length (ft):

Approach depth (ft): , dock depth (ft):.

• Daytona Beach

Adventure Yacht Harbor Ramp

Welcome aboard to Adventure Yacht Harbor, the premier ramp in Daytona Beach, Florida, where adventure and excitement await! Nestled along the picturesque coastline, Adventure Yacht Harbor is a haven for water sports enthusiasts, offering a wide range of activities for all ages and skill levels. Whether you're a seasoned sailor, a thrill-seeking jet skier, or a beginner looking to dip your toes into the world of water sports, Adventure Yacht Harbor has something for everyone.

As you step foot onto our well-maintained docks, you'll be greeted by our friendly and knowledgeable staff who are passionate about providing you with the best experience possible. With state-of-the-art facilities and top-notch equipment, Adventure Yacht Harbor is the perfect place to embark on your next more...

Adventure Yacht Harbor - The Ultimate Destination for Water Sports Enthusiasts

Welcome to adventure yacht harbor.

As you step foot onto our well-maintained docks, you'll be greeted by our friendly and knowledgeable staff who are passionate about providing you with the best experience possible. With state-of-the-art facilities and top-notch equipment, Adventure Yacht Harbor is the perfect place to embark on your next aquatic adventure.

Unleash Your Inner Adventurer

Are you ready to unleash your inner adventurer? Adventure Yacht Harbor offers an array of thrilling water sports activities that will get your heart racing and leave you with unforgettable memories. From jet skiing and wakeboarding to kayaking and paddleboarding, there's no shortage of excitement here.

For those seeking an adrenaline rush, hop on one of our jet skis and zoom across the sparkling waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Feel the wind in your hair and the spray of the sea on your face as you navigate the waves with skill and precision. Our jet skis are well-maintained and equipped with the latest safety features, ensuring a safe and exhilarating ride every time.

Explore the Beauty of Daytona Beach

Adventure Yacht Harbor is not only a hub for thrilling water sports but also a gateway to explore the natural beauty of Daytona Beach. With its pristine sandy shores, crystal-clear waters, and breathtaking sunsets, Daytona Beach is a paradise for beach lovers and nature enthusiasts alike.

Grab a kayak or paddleboard from Adventure Yacht Harbor and set off on a journey of discovery. Explore hidden coves, paddle alongside playful dolphins, and marvel at the diverse marine life that calls these waters home. Whether you're a seasoned paddler or a beginner, our expert instructors are available to provide guidance and ensure you have a safe and enjoyable experience.

Family-Friendly Fun for Everyone

Adventure Yacht Harbor is the perfect destination for a fun-filled day out with the whole family. We believe that water sports should be accessible to everyone, regardless of age or skill level. That's why we offer a range of family-friendly activities that are sure to create lasting memories.

Take the whole family out for a leisurely boat ride along the scenic Halifax River. Enjoy the gentle breeze as you cruise past stunning waterfront homes and picturesque landscapes. Our boats are spacious and comfortable, providing the perfect setting for quality family time.

Learn from the Best

At Adventure Yacht Harbor, we believe that learning is an essential part of any adventure. Whether you're a beginner looking to learn the basics or an experienced water sports enthusiast aiming to refine your skills, our team of experienced instructors is here to help.

Sign up for one of our comprehensive lessons and learn from the best in the business. Our instructors are not only highly skilled but also passionate about sharing their knowledge and love for water sports. With their guidance and expertise, you'll be riding the waves like a pro in no time.

Relax and Unwind

After an action-packed day on the water, it's time to relax and unwind. Adventure Yacht Harbor offers a range of amenities to ensure your comfort and enjoyment. Kick back and soak up the sun on our spacious sundeck, or take a refreshing dip in our sparkling swimming pool.

If you're in the mood for a delicious meal, head over to our waterfront restaurant, where you can indulge in a variety of mouthwatering dishes while enjoying panoramic views of the marina. Our talented chefs use only the freshest ingredients to create culinary delights that will satisfy even the most discerning palate.

Join the Adventure Yacht Harbor Community

Adventure Yacht Harbor is more than just a ramp; it's a vibrant community of like-minded individuals who share a passion for water sports and adventure. Joining our community means gaining access to exclusive events, social gatherings, and a network of fellow enthusiasts who are always ready to share their experiences and knowledge.

Whether you're a local looking to connect with fellow water sports lovers or a visitor seeking to make new friends, Adventure Yacht Harbor is the perfect place to forge lasting friendships and create lifelong memories.

Plan Your Visit to Adventure Yacht Harbor

Ready to embark on your next aquatic adventure? Planning your visit to Adventure Yacht Harbor is as easy as can be. We offer flexible rental options, whether you're looking to spend a few hours or a whole day exploring the waters. Our friendly staff is available to assist you in choosing the right equipment and activities to suit your preferences and skill level.

Adventure Yacht Harbor is conveniently located in Daytona Beach, with ample parking available for your convenience. So pack your sunscreen, grab your sense of adventure, and get ready to make memories that will last a lifetime at Adventure Yacht Harbor.

Book Your Adventure Today

Don't wait another minute to experience the thrill and excitement of Adventure Yacht Harbor. Book your adventure today and get ready to embark on an unforgettable journey of fun, adrenaline, and natural beauty. Whether you're seeking heart-pounding water sports or a relaxing day on the water, Adventure Yacht Harbor has it all.

So what are you waiting for? Grab your friends, family, or even go solo – Adventure Yacht Harbor is waiting to welcome you with open arms. Get ready to create memories that will last a lifetime and discover the true meaning of adventure at Adventure Yacht Harbor in Daytona Beach, Florida.

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Service Locator

Adventure Yacht Harbor

3948 South Peninsula Drive

Daytona beach, fl 32127, 386-756-2180, manager/dockmaster name:, working channel - vhf:, member discounts:.

Adventure Yacht Harbor is the boaters choice when it comes to a marina with all the amenities and protected dockage. Open seven days a week, the marina is located a few short blocks from Daytona Beach. On site there is waterfront casual dining and deep-sea sport fishing and sailing boats available for charter.

BoatUS Member Discount Details

• Free Pump Out with fuel purchase
• 25% Off Transient Slips

Additional Information

Water directions.

• GPS: Lat. - 29.7.57           Long. - 80.57.41
• VHF Channels: 16, 18A
• Reservations: Yes
• Transient Slips Available: 10
• Total Slips: 140
• Dockside Services: Telephone, Wi-Fi, Fresh Water, Pump Out
• Overnight Parking: No
• Shore Side Services: Laundry Services, Picnic Area, Restrooms, Showers
• Pets Allowed: No
• Provisioning: Boat Parts & Supplies, Ice
• Transportation: Local Transportation

Please contact business before arrival to verify all information and discounts. Members must present their valid BoatUS Membership card on arrival in order to receive discounts.

Adventure Yacht Harbor

Adventure Yacht Harbor is your ultimate boating destination for a protected marina, a friendly staff and best-in-class amenities. Located only 3 blocks from the world famous Daytona Beach, Adventure Yacht Harbor humbly sits in a tree-lined residential neighborhood on the Halifax River. We are just 100 yards off the ICW and 3 miles north of the Ponce De Leon Inlet. Adventure Yacht Harbor is unique in offering our customers 35 covered slips, an amenity that is hard to come by in commercial marinas! Call or email us to learn more about our long term contracts, or visit us as a transient and enjoy a meal at our on-site restaurant, Boondocks, for great food and unparalleled sunset views!

This quiet, peaceful harbor has been welcoming boaters and guests from all parts of the east coast for over 50 years.

Since World War II, boats came here to be safe from prevailing winds and wakes off the Intracoastal Waterway. Located in a tree-lined quiet residential neighborhood on the Halifax River called Wilbur-By-The-Sea, it is one of the few unincorporated areas of Volusia County boasting neither a condo or hotel but exclusively beachfront homes.

Fishing and boating are top activities in the area. Inshore fishing includes the world-famous Mosquito Lagoon, known for bass and trout fishing. The nearby Ponce de Leon Inlet is a natural opening in the barrier islands and access to world-class offshore fishing along with the historical reputation as one of the most treacherous inlets in the southeast since 1565 when the entire French fleet of Admiral Jean Ribault was wrecked by a hurricane here.

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Seeking a fun day on the water adventure yacht harbor offers oceans of options.

There are few better ways to enjoy the Daytona Beach area’s ample waterway-recreation opportunities — including dozens of miles of coastal Atlantic waters and lengthy stretches of the Intracoastal Waterway — than to get out on, over and into the waters in a boat. And whether you’re looking to reel in some trophies on a fishing charter, harness the powers of the winds in a chartered sailboat or simply grab a delicious meal, Port Orange’s Adventure Yacht Harbor offers a range of options. 

In addition to providing services for boat owners — including over 135 boat slips in a protected harbor and high-grade, non-ethanol gasoline — this marina located just 100 yards off the Intracoastal Waterway is also home to a collection of charter companies and a seafood restaurant. Head three miles north of the Ponce de Leon Inlet to Adventure Yacht Harbor for:

• Boondocks Restaurant: This waterfront bar and restaurant known for its fresh-caught seafood also serves up an array of delicious steak, chicken and pasta offerings, all in a perfect spot for watching the sun set over the Halifax River. Learn more about Boondocks Restaurant and its menu here .
• R&R Charters: This charter company offers customizable trips — including exciting fishing excursions and relaxing sunset cruises — on its spacious pontoon boat. Visit R&R Charters to learn more.
• Knot on Duty Charters: Licensed for up to six passengers, this charter company’s spacious, 29-foot May-Craft takes anglers out to target bottom fish like grouper, snapper, cobia and amberjack, as well as sport fish like mahi-mahi, wahoo, king mackerel, bonito, sailfish, marlin and tuna. Plan your trip with Knot on Duty today!
• Try N’ Hooker Fishing Charters: Offering trips on a 42-foot Ocean Yacht saltwater fishing boat, this charter company can take up to six anglers on reef fishing and offshore trolling excursions targeting mahi, wahoo, snapper, mackerel, amberjack, barracuda, sailfish and more. Visit Try N’ Hooker’s Facebook page for more information.
• CANA Sportfishing: This charter company offers deep-water trolling, bottom-fishing, big game-fishing and cruising trips on the CANA, a Luhrs twin-engine turbo diesel sportfishing yacht. Anglers on the company’s excursions can target mahi, tuna, marlin, sailfish, wahoo, flounder, grouper, amberjack, snapper, swordfish and more. Learn more at canasportfishing.com.
• Searok Sport Fishing Charters: With a three-vessel fleet that includes offshore, inshore and airboat charters, Searok offers a variety of angling excursions, including deep-sea fishing, flats fishing and bow fishing. Check out more about Searok Sport Fishing Charters and plan your adventure today.
• No Pressure Charters: With its custom-built, 25-foot Privateer providing ample space for up to four anglers, this family-friendly charter company offers 5- and 8-hour inshore and near-shore charters. 
• Eagle Yachts Sailing Charters: Those looking for an adventure-filled, wind-powered day on the local waters can check out this company offering captained sailing charters and lessons on its 36-foot, Morgan Nelson/Marek designed sloop. Inshore and offshore sailing trips are available, and specialty excursions include “meteor shower watching” trips. Learn all that Eagle Yachts Sailing Charters has to offer and get ready to dive into a new adventure.

When fun on the water is on the agenda, Adventure Yacht Harbor is the place to go! Start planning your trip today — and get ready for some wet and wild fun on the Daytona Beach area’s waters!

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Snag-A-Slip Booking

Windward at Adventure Yacht Harbor

+1 (386) 756-2180

[email protected]

http://mywindward.com/adventure-yacht-harbor/

7:45 - 5:00

Monitored: 16 | Working: 72

Port Orange, FL | N 29° 07.950' / W 080° 57.680'

3948 S. Peninsula Drive

Port Orange, FL 32127

Body of Water

Mile Marker

Location Reference Point

Ronnie Hopkins

Management Company

Windward Marina Group

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Your request has been sent to the dockmaster at Windward at Adventure Yacht Harbor

Last Marina Login : 06/03/24

Call for current rates and availability.

Call ahead to confirm as prices are always subject to change

Diesel Price

$4.999, tax included

Noteworthy:

Construction here will be taken place here 1/15 - 2/16 

Limited Accesibilty Includes-

-Limited Parking

-Limited Fuel Access

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Adventure Yacht Harbor

Location & Hours

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3948 S Peninsula Dr

Port Orange, FL 32127

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About the Business

* Protected harbor behind barrier island for 135 boats, both covered and open. * Close to all the action! 100 yards off the ICW * 3 miles north of Ponce De Leon Inlet * 3 blocks from the famous Daytona Beach! * On-Site Boondocks Restaurant that will cook your catch! www.boondocks-restaurant.com * We offer Gasoline and Diesel, a mobile pump-out boat, and facilities for transient boats. * Charter Boats for fishing, sailing and site-seeing. …

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Bad business. Hiking rates for dockage more than 60% in less than 2 years. Water in fuel damage done to multiple boats. No employee or management will take responsibility for actions. Left open top to fuel during countless storms. Mechanics in town claim this facility is known for bad gas.

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The Unique Burial of a Child of Early Scythian Time at the Cemetery of Saryg-Bulun (Tuva)

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Pages:  379-406

In 1988, the Tuvan Archaeological Expedition (led by M. E. Kilunovskaya and V. A. Semenov) discovered a unique burial of the early Iron Age at Saryg-Bulun in Central Tuva. There are two burial mounds of the Aldy-Bel culture dated by 7th century BC. Within the barrows, which adjoined one another, forming a figure-of-eight, there were discovered 7 burials, from which a representative collection of artifacts was recovered. Burial 5 was the most unique, it was found in a coffin made of a larch trunk, with a tightly closed lid. Due to the preservative properties of larch and lack of air access, the coffin contained a well-preserved mummy of a child with an accompanying set of grave goods. The interred individual retained the skin on his face and had a leather headdress painted with red pigment and a coat, sewn from jerboa fur. The coat was belted with a leather belt with bronze ornaments and buckles. Besides that, a leather quiver with arrows with the shafts decorated with painted ornaments, fully preserved battle pick and a bow were buried in the coffin. Unexpectedly, the full-genomic analysis, showed that the individual was female. This fact opens a new aspect in the study of the social history of the Scythian society and perhaps brings us back to the myth of the Amazons, discussed by Herodotus. Of course, this discovery is unique in its preservation for the Scythian culture of Tuva and requires careful study and conservation.

Keywords: Tuva, Early Iron Age, early Scythian period, Aldy-Bel culture, barrow, burial in the coffin, mummy, full genome sequencing, aDNA

Information about authors: Marina Kilunovskaya (Saint Petersburg, Russian Federation). Candidate of Historical Sciences. Institute for the History of Material Culture of the Russian Academy of Sciences. Dvortsovaya Emb., 18, Saint Petersburg, 191186, Russian Federation E-mail: [email protected] Vladimir Semenov (Saint Petersburg, Russian Federation). Candidate of Historical Sciences. Institute for the History of Material Culture of the Russian Academy of Sciences. Dvortsovaya Emb., 18, Saint Petersburg, 191186, Russian Federation E-mail: [email protected] Varvara Busova  (Moscow, Russian Federation).  (Saint Petersburg, Russian Federation). Institute for the History of Material Culture of the Russian Academy of Sciences.  Dvortsovaya Emb., 18, Saint Petersburg, 191186, Russian Federation E-mail:  [email protected] Kharis Mustafin  (Moscow, Russian Federation). Candidate of Technical Sciences. Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology.  Institutsky Lane, 9, Dolgoprudny, 141701, Moscow Oblast, Russian Federation E-mail:  [email protected] Irina Alborova  (Moscow, Russian Federation). Candidate of Biological Sciences. Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology.  Institutsky Lane, 9, Dolgoprudny, 141701, Moscow Oblast, Russian Federation E-mail:  [email protected] Alina Matzvai  (Moscow, Russian Federation). Moscow Institute of Physics and Technology.  Institutsky Lane, 9, Dolgoprudny, 141701, Moscow Oblast, Russian Federation E-mail:  [email protected]

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I Put Up a Fence in Maine. Why Did It Cause Such a Fuss?

The goal was to shield our house from the road, but it soon turned into something much more revealing.

The author, Heidi Julavits, at her home, which was built in 1815. Credit... Fumi Nagasaka for The New York Times

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By Heidi Julavits

Heidi Julavits is a writer who grew up in Portland, Maine.

• July 15, 2024

When we bought our house in Maine 23 years ago, people welcomed us to town with tales of local mishaps and gaffes. Barns that almost burned down. Pipes that burst. The man a mile down the road who built a fence. This chatty imparting of intel functioned simultaneously as a gesture of hospitality and a comical how-not-to primer, containing valuable survival and etiquette tips. Our town of about 830 residents more than doubles in size during the summer, when part-time residents like me arrive. The fence story suggested what types of behavior on your personal property were, and were not, considered neighborly in a town where zoning ordinances are few.

Listen to this article, read by Kirsten Potter

“You won’t ever get rid of the magazine room, will you?” people asked. The magazine room is on our house’s second floor. It’s basically a vintage mood board, and more of a windowless crawl space than a room, accessible through what looks like a cupboard door. A much earlier resident, or successive generations of earlier residents, had patchworked the pitched, unpainted walls of the magazine room with clippings from what appeared to be fashion, adventure-story and homemaking periodicals dating to the first half of the 1900s.

We promised never to renovate the magazine room.

We promised to change very little about our house, at least what was visible from the road, including the 11-foot-tall deciduous hedge that ran the length of our yard and seasonally blurred our view of the traffic coming in and out of town.

But then the hedge began to fail. An expert from a nearby nursery arrived with a clipboard and pronounced our hedge an invasive, nonnative weed, not worth saving. But we loved the weed. We topped it. We fertilized it.

It was on the leisurely upswing when, 16 years after we bought our house, a woman driving a fancy S.U.V. jumped the culvert, plowed through the hedge, jumped the culvert again and sped off. Had the man behind her not followed her home, she might have tried to get away with her (as everyone agreed) very impressive stunt driving.

We weren’t in town at the time, and so could only view photographic evidence of the damage: the gouged earth, the long hedge like a smile missing some of its teeth. Our reaction was impulsive and in retrospect, baffling: We would use the money we received from the stunt driver to put up a fence.

Even one year earlier, we might have planted a new hedge, possibly even a native one. But the person driving over our front lawn felt like a slapstick escalation of a recent trend I had observed. Previously, living on our road was like living on the ocean, but with much lower property taxes; its perils could be charted and managed, like the tides. But then the unofficial speed limit outside our house increased from 35 m.p.h. to 45, even occasionally 50. At this time, I had younger children, and many friends with young children, and a trampoline in the backyard that, even if we weren’t home, was “open” to bouncing enthusiasts, which sometimes included middle-aged men when the neighborhood threw parties. The slight curve near our driveway made it difficult to see cars coming at higher speeds, which meant even adults, people arguably in possession of better judgment than a 7-year-old, were nearly hit a few times trying to leave on a bike.

At first, I accepted (even embraced!) the road as my problem to solve, and thus I indulged many energizing, problem-solving fantasies. I would pay my daughter to wear a cop costume and stand at the end of our driveway and point a hair dryer, which at high speeds would register as a radar gun, at oncoming cars. I would put up the sort of signs that make me slow down. FREE STUFF. YARD SALE. I would buy a baby doll, strap it into a stroller and leave the stroller in the middle of the road.

But I also felt resigned to a foregone fate. The intensifying situation on the road, I suspected, was the natural progression of an economic agreement struck more than a century ago between transportation advances and Maine as a nonexportable resource. The state’s slogan “Vacationland” first appeared on car license plates in 1936 and still appears on the Maine border sign that greets drivers as they enter via I-95, the state’s primary national highway. But Maine’s identity as a seasonal purification rite for urbanites dates further back than even the invention of cars, to the years following the Civil War.

I’m neurotically attuned (some might say) to this history’s lingering rumbles. I was born and raised in Maine, and so I’ve been versed since my earliest moments of sentience in Maine’s identity as something both staunchly fixed and, during the summer months, menaced from all directions, including the sea, by visitors — “From Aways.” While my parents moved to Portland in 1965, after which my brother and I were born, we were also, according to some measures of nativeness, invaders ourselves. Rather than “Mainers Who Can Trace Their Mainerness Back Through Many Generations of Other Mainers Who Lived Only in Maine,” my parents, and by eventual extension my brother and I, were the type of Mainer defined as “Year-Round Resident, Seasonally Irritated.”

Yet my father was and is Mainer enough that this history still irks him. He recently, while visiting, groused of summer people (to me, now technically a summer person), “They showed up thinking we should adapt to their ways, rather than them adapting to ours.” His frustration was not about “us” demanding compliance, and failing to get it, from part-time residents or tourists; he was reacting to the outsiders’ hubristic refusal to value local knowledge that a person might share as a form of wary welcome.

He and my mother still love to tell the story that they heard from friends of an 1980s invasion by the New York Yacht Club, when their annual summer cruise came to Maine. The story, which the Yacht Club denies ever happened, has to me the true-ringing feel of what was then a century’s worth of encounters between Mainers and summer people, efficiently condensed into a colorful how-not-to tale. The club members, ignoring the cautions from local bystanders, piled onto a dock as if it were a commuter-train platform and waited for a launch to take them to their individual yachts, presumably sailed north for them by hired captains. The dock float sank lower and lower and finally swamped, dumping into the harbor the club members, some of whom had flown to the Portland International Jetport straight from New York in their business suits and were still, when they hit the ocean, holding their briefcases.

During the summer of 2016, when the speed of cars driving past our house was frequently 10 to 15 m.p.h. above the posted limit, I did something I’d never done before. I complained. I visited the town selectmen, one of whom asked, “Are you related to Bill?” He and my father worked together, we eventually determined, back in the ’90s. This is how encounters tend to start in a state with just over a million people, in a town with just under a thousand people, when you have a last name that not even your close childhood friends can spell.

The selectmen were sympathetic to the speeding issue — I was not the first to complain, and nor were these complaints coming only from seasonal residents — but their message of thoughtful, if cautious, consideration reflected those I’d encountered in casual conversation. Possibly, the town’s attitude toward speeding was like the attitude toward zoning laws, or the ongoing lack of them — a respectful attempt to manage new civic challenges while preserving the state’s historical spirit of self-determination.

My husband and I honored that spirit after the stunt driver busted through our hedge. Our small son, when informed about our plans to build a fence, stared melancholically through the ragged gap, as if we’d just told him that we intended to continue the damage that the stunt driver had only begun — which in a sense, we had.

“Only depressed people build fences,” he said.

We didn’t lecture him on the difference between depression and anxiety, between anxiety and acute situational awareness, between acute situational awareness and instant, awful death, because first we needed to fully kill the hedge we had spent nearly a decade trying to save. Then we needed someone to install the fence. We settled on a fence company located a little over an hour away. The reviews were good. Their customers — whoever they were, and in whatever bizarre, fence-loving towns they lived — seemed happy.

But as we scrolled through fence styles online, none seemed like the obvious choice. My inability to know which fence was the right fence should have suggested: There was no right fence. True, I was not fluent in the language of fences. I didn’t know how tall a fence should be. I didn’t know what kind of fence would look best with our house, because our house, and most houses like it, did not have fences marking a property boundary. Maine was more of a “sign” place. This was how you knew you were crossing, or trespassing, a border.

Signs change, however; or maybe it’s more accurate to say that the messages on signs do. Despite what would seem to be its wild success, the “Vacationland” state slogan was updated in 1987 by Maine’s Office of Tourism to “The Way Life Should Be.” (A giant sign posted on I-95 near Kittery read in full, “Welcome Home/The Way Life Should Be.”)

This new slogan, while on its surface more breezily aspirational, caused perplexity, and signaled different things to different people. If, for example, a person had recently met with their local elected officials, they might think that Maine, as a matter of no-frills pragmatism (and increasingly, it seemed, as a marketing virtue) wasn’t hampered by the sometimes-unnuanced oversteps of federal governance. Others might find the slogan puzzlingly out of touch, given that poverty rates were on the rise; what, too, might the slogan imply in a state whose racial demographics were 98 percent white? Others might worry the slogan could risk insulting tourists, presumably the target audience, about their way of life.

“The Way Life Should Be,” depending on the song that happened to be playing in your car after you drove over the border and first beheld the welcome sign, could also thrum with minor-key warning: Don’t come here thinking that things need to change.

But one thing that kept changing was the state’s highway signage. Gov. Angus King, an independent who held office from 1995 until 2003, installed two additional signs flanking I-95, “Maine. Worth a Visit. Worth a Lifetime” — the equivalent of a person seeding your subconscious as you entered the state and then handing you a tempting real estate listing as you left. Later, in 2011, Gov. Paul LePage, a Republican, sharpened King’s suggestive soft sell into what sounded like a deregulated fire sale by attaching, beneath the original northbound sign, a supplemental message. Now it read, “Welcome to Maine/The Way Life Should Be/OPEN FOR BUSINESS.”

Our choice of fence may have abided by some, all or none of these slogans. Seven feet tall, the fence was solid, not lattice-y, made of vertical cedar tongue-and-groove boards. (The invoice we received from the fence company bluntly itemized it as a “privacy panel.”) We had decided that if we were going to build a fence, we should seize the chance not to see cars, and to muffle the rise and fall of their engines. Before the stunt-driver incident, some friends were visiting with their dog when it ran into the road and was killed. (My father, standing in our yard at the time, said, “At least it wasn’t a kid.” He might have tabled this observation for a few hours or weeks, but he wasn’t wrong.) At that point, I was still hearing a large animal being struck every time a car drove by, especially because of what my father had said: The dog might have been a kid.

The fence we chose was topped by a mini-fence detail that ran the length of it, to visually soften the highway-sound-barrier vibe. The cap rail read “fence” in the way the fence did not, which further suggested: This fence was not only a fence. It was also an overreaction — a fearful response to what might have happened, rather than what did. And if the fence was meant to decrease the chances that a person might drive into the yard again, or that one of us might be hit on the road, it did not make us safer from either threat.

I wasn’t home the day the fence was installed. I left in the morning, and by the time I returned, it was there. It was far too tall for our tiny house behind it. It was an unweathered cedar slab, practically neon-yellow when the sun hit it. It gave me an awful feeling of remorse in the pit of my stomach from the moment I first saw it.

The fence caused an immediate stir, which I found highly distressing, but also affirming, because I agreed with the dissenters, some of whom were my dear friends. Other members of the community conveyed their feelings publicly, in writing. Our town is home to at least one, and maybe more, anonymous activists who express their opinions via handmade signs; they’re like an online comments section, posted high — often very high — in the air. One of these commenters posted a sign on the road, just north of our house, which, on the plus side, possibly caused the average speed limit to temporarily decrease. TRUMP’S BORDER WALL 1 MILE AHEAD. The sign was nailed to the top of an electrical pole; the inability to remove it without a bucket truck reinforced the permanence of the opinion.

At first, this message, much like “The Way Life Should be,” contained a multiplicity of possible readings. What might, however, initially be interpreted as a protest by a left-wing resident was in fact — at least I think it was — in 2017 a much more layered calling-out of our presumed liberalism, as city-dwelling From Aways. If so, I took their point. Look at these hypocritical people who are probably opposed to Trump’s wall, putting up a wall.

After the initial furor died down, circumspect friends would say, consolingly, “It’ll gray up eventually.” One or two congratulated me. I had every right to build a fence. Others refused to countenance my regret. When I shared my thoughts about future plants or bushes that might take the fence’s place, should it magically disappear, one person said, “I think you have to accept the fact of the fence.”

These varied responses summed up the paradox of the fence. It was the most From Away thing I could have done; it was also the most Maine thing I could have done. People were discouraged from building fences, but because it was our property, nobody had the right to tell us what we could do on it.

This also probably explained why no one vandalized the fence, even though it was a long, blank canvas that honestly might have looked a little cheerier with a hit of spray paint. It was my psychological boundary line made material. People respected it. In some ways, they respected it too much. The fence altered our social weather patterns. Before the fence, friends and acquaintances would stop by regularly. After we built the fence, these impromptu visits slowed. Some people started to text beforehand to announce they’d be dropping by, or to ask if it was OK; they suddenly felt they needed permission to see us.

As the summer wound down, acquaintances and friends would ask ribbingly, “How’s your wall?” Most people had an opinion, or a teasing-yet-not comment, which at a minimum illustrates how visible our house is and how many people drive past it.

Yet on the plus side, which I strove to see, we were becoming the future tale to be told to newcomers; our fence, and the community response to it, would be entered in the oral history, and we would be immortalized. It wouldn’t be the first time: After taking ownership of our house in 2001, we wasted no time starring in a cautionary story about arrivals to town who didn’t know much. Our very first winter, we turned off the breaker to the sump pump instead of the well pump, and then there was a violent rainstorm, then the basement flooded, then the furnace became submerged and broke, then the temperature plummeted, then the pipes burst, then the well pump continued to empty the well water into the dining room, and because our foundation slumps toward the woods, then the water flowed out below the roofline and formed a thick, frozen waterfall on the exterior wall that threatened to pull down the back half of the house.

Not for the last time, we were a source of comedic incompetence; we had failed to understand how winter works, and how water works, and how electricity works. But the story of the fence was proof of a different, more publicly visible failure to understand. Or worse: understanding, but not caring.

We did care. This made the fact of the fence inscrutable even to us. Not even a year after building the fence, my husband stood outside one evening, assessing it with a look of bewilderment. “I don’t know why we did that,” he said.

The following summer, we planted a row of native, climbing hydrangeas to cover the exterior of the fence in green so that, to those driving by even at moderate speeds, it might be indistinguishable from the previous hedge. The hydrangeas grew quickly, but not quickly enough. I found myself caught between guilt and annoyance when greeted by someone with another “wall” joke. If the people who lived in town weren’t thrilled with the fence, they had every good reason to feel that way, because we’d permanently altered their view; also, they had learned to coexist with the road without building a fence, so why couldn’t we?

I had less patience for the seasonal people who lived on the water, far from the busy road. They were cranky that their scenic drive to the grocery store had been changed; they could no longer be cleansed by the preindustrial beauty of Maine as they sped past our old farmhouse to buy food. I had to hold my tongue when a patrician summer person who lived on the coast, down two private dirt roads, announced to me, “It is a person’s community duty not to change the front of their house.”

Which sentiment I did not entirely disagree with. Our house, for example, was both ours and not. For nearly a decade, our house was referred to by the former owner’s name; for the FedEx delivery person to find us, we had to repeatedly clarify that we lived in their house. In our town, maybe in many small towns, the houses are a way of recording recent human history. Our house was communal property, in a sense; a public holding of the historical society.

This was also why we were so committed to preserving the magazine room. It functioned as a museum to the generations who preceded us. I often took visitors up to see the clippings, though the room had become harder and harder to access. First there were five, then 10, then 15 years’ worth of books and clothing barricading entry. Only the most agile person could squeeze past the threshold, or a committed, bushwhacking person like my daughter, who always found a new cache of clothes that interested her as the fashion trends in her present made renewably relevant the leftovers of our past, which we had stuffed into trash bags and taken to hurling from the doorway into the middle of the room.

Yet questions of preservation — and how a slogan like “The Way Life Should Be” might freeze a place in time, or raise questions of what should be, rather than what is — could, depending on your interpretation, suggest a widespread consensus that never existed. In 2019, Gov. Janet Mills, a Democrat, replaced LePage’s “Welcome to Maine/The Way Life Should Be/OPEN FOR BUSINESS” with, simply, “MAINE/Welcome Home.” (Three months later Mills added back the 1987 slogan; the sign currently reads “MAINE/Welcome Home/The Way Life Should Be.”) This latest tweak might announce the state’s increased openness, not just to seasonal visitors but also to people relocating from other states and countries. It might be an exhortation for residents, new and old, to consider the state not as a fixed entity but as an increasingly porous and diverse one, built atop a sturdy foundation of resourcefulness and autonomy.

The responsibilities a newcomer might have, or not have, in a place they call home, even for part of the year — these are questions that I think about constantly. When is inaction in the name of respect, or preservation, an abnegation of civic duty? When is preservation used as noble cover to forbid new people’s access to a place? When is a newcomer’s confident sense of what should be actually an imposition of their values?

But “Welcome Home/The Way Life Should Be” is also the epigraph to every person’s childhood memories, assuming they associate home with happiness. That nostalgia — also the sense of melancholy or outrage — can intensify in direct proportion to the amount of change that has happened to your home since you left it.

The fence is seven years old now, but it is still occasionally a source of friendly teasing. Last winter, I drove up alone, and arrived after dark, and left my car in the road so I could move a branch that had fallen across the driveway. A friend pulled up beside me and said, smiling, “Are you locked out of your compound?”

Each passing year also deepens a paradox; to add more months to the time I’ve spent in Maine adds more months to the time I’ve spent not in Maine. If time is the singular measure, the longer I live in Maine, the more of a From Away I become.

Yet even when I’m not in Maine, I represent a demographic causing an increasingly dire housing crisis. Mills’s welcome sign became prophetic; during the pandemic, people from out of state bought places that had been on the market for years, in some cases more than a decade.

In 2019, the average sale price in our county was down about 25 percent from the previous year. But between 2020 and 2021, the average sale price increased by almost 41 percent. Our house, for years a depreciating-to-stagnant money pit, was suddenly worth so much that we might have nearly broken even had we decided to sell; but the price point would dictate that buyer would probably be a From Away, and a well-off one.

This trend extends beyond our county. In May, Portland, my former hometown, was named the “hottest luxury housing market in the United States” for the third quarter in a row, its prices up 22 percent from 2023. And yet, despite the rise in housing costs and the state’s evolving national appeal — from wilderness idyll for those who enjoy freezing water, no-sand beaches and insect sieges to a differently commodified version of escape — certain local numbers might suggest that little has changed. The number of children in the public elementary school has remained roughly the same. The town voting rolls haven’t increased much; there were, however, 30 or 40 more car registrations during the pandemic.

Some in town seem invested in change, and more of it may be on the horizon. Given that the community isn’t a monolith and never was, these shifts are not unanimously viewed as either losses or improvements. A committee formed to consider hiring a harbor master. The anonymous sign-posters were busy again when the selectmen decided to no longer allow an annual ritual in which people drag busted docks and boats and appliances into the center of town and host a gathering late into the night, after which, at dawn, a man with a crane takes the junk pile to the dump. Some of the signs were historically indignant: “100+ YEAR … TRADITION.” Others, hung on top of electrical poles, were more taunting: “NICE TRY SELECTMEN.” Others spoke to a broader crisis: “WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO?”

The town installed a permanent speed monitor, which I believe is meant to flash when a person is driving above the posted limit, but it’s hard to know for certain. The current monitor is actually the second of its kind, because the original sustained a fatal shooting, and the new one soon acquired half a dozen bullet holes, and so doesn’t work either. The monitor, in alerting nobody to anything save someone’s opposition to it, was maybe more a public referendum on speed management than a speed-management strategy.

Other things are changing, too. The magazine room, like the hedge before it, is failing. Allowing a thing to simply be, it turns out, is a slow path to its extinction. The uninsulated space heats up these days to what must be over 100 degrees during the summer, and for that reason I tend not to go there, and so was surprised to find, while we were supposedly preserving it, that the magazine room is in ruins. The glue is decomposing; the desiccated clippings, when touched, turn to dust. Someday, the walls will be bare.

Our fence, meanwhile, has weathered to a medium-dark gray. The climbing hydrangeas look like goofy, bungling creatures, their paws pushing through the railings on top of the fence, so that I can see them even when I’m behind it. Their invasion is a welcome one. I’ve started to wonder whether if, in the future, the person who owns this house decides to take the fence down, such a decision will prove controversial; might the fence, a once-glaring newcomer, be considered part of the town’s history and thus, like the magazine room, qualify for protection? If nothing else, and in the meantime, will people wish to preserve the tradition of teasing us about it?

I might even wish to preserve that tradition. The familiar ribbing — “How’s your wall?” — is practiced by fewer and fewer people, to the point that now it feels like an affectionate and even nostalgic way of greeting me after I’ve been away. The once-habitual exchange preserves a record, the way the historical society preserves photos of buildings and residents that no longer exist, of the occasional challenges of coexistence, even or especially among well-meaning people who like and respect one another.

One day last summer, as I was standing at the end of my driveway, a woman I’d never seen before walked by. She might have been a new resident, or someone’s guest, or a person on vacation. I experienced an odd mixture of relief and sorrow when she smiled at me and said, “That is such a beautiful fence.”

Heidi Julavits is a writer whose recent memoir is “Directions to Myself.” Fumi Nagasaka is a photographer in New York whose work over the last few years has focused on documenting America. For this assignment, she traveled to three different towns in Maine.

Read by Kirsten Potter

Narration produced by Emma Kehlbeck and Krish Seenivasan

Engineered by Lance Neal

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Sip, savor, stay 2024: new msc yacht club excursions.

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Starting July 2024, MSC Yacht Club will elevate the luxury cruise experience by offering exclusive ... [+] food, wine, and spirits excursions.

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Starting July 2024, MSC Yacht Club will elevate the luxury cruise experience by offering exclusive food, wine, and spirits excursions. These new activities invite guests to indulge in some of the world’s most captivating destinations. Picture yourself disembarking in a quaint Italian village to sample local wines, where vintners eagerly share the intricate process of their craft passed down through generations. Or imagine navigating the bustling markets of Morocco, with vibrant stalls brimming with exotic spices, fresh produce, and culinary treasures, guided by local chefs who reveal the secrets of traditional dishes. These excursions transcend mere gastronomic adventures; they serve as portals to understanding and appreciating the cultures and traditions of each locale. You might find yourself in the heart of Provence, learning the art of pairing fine wines with regional cheeses, or exploring a centuries-old distillery in the Scottish Highlands, where you'll uncover the rich history behind each bottle of whiskey. Expertly designed itineraries ensure that guests not only indulge in world-class food and beverages but also gain rich insights into their histories and stories. Whether it’s a private tour of a family-owned vineyard, an exclusive cooking class in a Mediterranean villa, or a behind-the-scenes look at a renowned brewery, each experience is curated to provide a deeper connection to the destination.

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Genoa, italy.

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Italy, Genoa

On this excursion, guests can indulge in an authentic Italian culinary adventure, uncovering the secrets of the world-famous pesto sauce during an exclusive cooking class in Santa Margherita Ligure. They will learn the techniques that make Italian cuisine iconic before savoring an upscale dining experience featuring delicious local dishes and fine wine.

After lunch, guests can explore the enchanting village of Portofino, with its picturesque harbor adorned by swaying boats and surrounded by vibrant orange, red, and pink houses. There are ample opportunities to visit luxury boutiques, wander through the town’s historic alleyways, or enjoy the scenic Church of St. George’s square.

Invergordon, Scotland

TRY WORLD-FAMOUS WHISKY AT GLENMORANGIE DISTILLERY

The excursion invites guests to explore a renowned distillery celebrated for its malt whiskies since the 19th century, perfected over generations. A guided tour will walk guests through each step of the distillation process, culminating in a tasting of two exquisite drams. Following this, guests will journey to the 12th-century town of Royal Dornoch to admire its historic buildings, impressive cathedral, and charming town square.

Amsterdam (The Netherlands)

A TASTE OF LIFE IN EDAM OVER THE CENTURIES

Netherlands, from Amsterdam - Zaanse Schans

Just a short journey north of Amsterdam lies the charming town of Edam, famous for its namesake cheese. This creamy delicacy was among the world's favorites from the 14th to the 18th centuries, prized not only for its unique flavor but also for its tendency to harden rather than spoil with age, making it perfect for lengthy sea voyages during the Age of Exploration. Discover this celebrated ancient food on a trip to the quintessentially Dutch town.

Start with a 30-minute drive to Edam for a 45-minute visit to the home of a local family. This invaluable experience offers firsthand stories about traditional Dutch life, complemented by coffee and a sweet treat. Following this enlightening conversation, delve deeper into Edam's history on a guided 45-minute walking tour. Admire the town's characteristic drawbridges and cobblestone streets.

Next, enjoy a 15-minute drive to a local cheese farm where you will gain fascinating insights into the production process of the beloved semi-hard cow's cheese over 45 minutes. Cap off your visit with the chance to purchase some of these exquisite cheeses to take home, before returning to the ship on a 30-minute transfer.

Cadiz (Spain)

BODEGA OSBORNE: AN EXCLUSIVE VISIT TO THE HEART OF SHERRY

Spain, from Cadiz - Seville, Plaza de Espana

Embark on a captivating 4-hour excursion that takes you through the enchanting surroundings of Cadiz and unveils the secrets of its renowned sherry. Begin your journey with a scenic 30-minute bus ride from Cadiz to the distinguished Bodega Osborne. Departing from the ship, the tour kicks off with a brief panoramic drive through Cadiz before transitioning to the old road, leading to El Puerto de Santa María.

Located on the opposite side of the Bay of Cadiz, this charming town boasts a rich history, stunning beaches, and an ideal climate for viticulture. After a picturesque 30-minute bus tour, delve into the town's vinous heritage with a visit to the iconic Osborne cellars. Whether you’re a sherry aficionado or a curious traveler, this visit promises a deep dive into history, tradition, and beauty.

Upon arrival, you'll be greeted by an expert guide who will provide a comprehensive tour of the cellars, set against a backdrop of fruit trees and traditional architecture. Learn about the origins of this prestigious brand, dating back to the 18th century, when English merchant Thomas Osborne Mann established his legacy by uniting several wineries under his name.

Your guide will walk you through the sherry production process and introduce you to the various types of sherry. You'll also encounter the Toro de Osborne, the iconic advertising symbol that graces the region's roads, promoting this distinctive beverage. The tour culminates in a delightful wine tasting, paired with appetizers such as the esteemed Jamón 5J, a renowned variety of Spanish ham.

Before concluding your experience, take a moment to browse the shop for local products. The tour wraps up with a serene 30-minute drive back to Cadiz, leaving you with cherished memories of the day.

Genoa (Italy)

PORTOFINO AND PESTO COOKING CLASS IN SANTA MARGHERITA LIGURE

Immerse yourself in the treasures of the Ligurian coast and unravel the secrets of pesto, the world-renowned sauce, during an enchanting cooking lesson. This seven-and-a-half-hour excursion begins with a scenic one-hour minibus ride to Santa Margherita Ligure. Upon arrival, enjoy a one-hour guided tour of this sophisticated and aristocratic seaside town.

After exploring Santa Margherita Ligure, take a well-deserved break at a local Osteria for about two hours. Here, you'll spend an hour in a hands-on cooking class, mastering the art of pesto-making so you can recreate this delightful sauce at home. Following the class, savor a light lunch featuring traditional Genoese dishes, allowing you to fully experience the local cuisine.

Your journey continues with a minibus ride to Portofino, the gem of the Ligurian coast and one of the most photographed destinations on the Riviera. In Portofino, you'll have an hour and a half divided between a guided tour and free time. Stroll through the charming, pastel-colored village, admire boats swaying in the harbor, and explore the vibrant orange, red, and pink houses that frame the bay. Relax in one of the chic cafés, browse the shops, and wander through historic alleyways, perhaps reaching the scenic Church of St. George and the promontory overlooking the Nature Park.

Katakolon (Greece)

VISIT TO OLYMPIA ARCHAEOLOGICAL SITE AND COOKING CLASS

Immerse yourself in ancient history and savor Greek cuisine during a delightful visit to the neighborhoods of Katakolon. Begin with a 45-minute coach transfer to the archaeological site of Olympia, where you will have two hours to explore its rich ancient history. Strolling through the grounds of the first Olympic Games, held in 776 B.C., is a truly unique experience. Your guide will share insightful historical details about the site's treasures, including the Temple of Zeus, the Temple of Hera, the Sanctuary of Pelops, and the Gymnasium.

After your exploration of Olympia, you will visit a family-run olive oil mill situated in a traditional agricultural region. The welcoming owners will share their expertise in sustainable and self-sufficient agriculture, incorporating biological and ecological processes into their farming and food production practices. Enjoy a glass of ouzo or wine and a slice of homemade olive cake before embarking on an engaging tour. Discover the virtues, benefits, and rich antioxidant properties of olive oil as you explore the farm's vineyards and garden. Learn to distinguish the various flavors of olive oil—bitter, spicy, green, and fruity—and understand how this essential ingredient can enhance the taste of fish or meat dishes.

The experience culminates with a fun and interactive cooking lesson. Test your skills by preparing the famous tzatziki and a Greek salad with freshly cut ingredients. Hone your pita souvlaki wrapping techniques to complete your culinary adventure.

Kiel (Germany)

COUNTRY LIFE AND REGIONAL GASTRONOMY IN GUT PANKER

Germany, Kiel - Lubeck

Escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life and spend a few serene hours in the picturesque Holstein Switzerland region. This tranquil area, with its charming rural landscapes, elegant stately homes, and traditional farming methods, offers a perfect retreat.

A 45-minute minibus ride will transport you to Gut Panker near Lütjenburg, a historical estate rich with ateliers, art galleries, and boutique shops, all surrounded by nature that enhances the sense of peace. During a one-hour guided tour, you will learn about the estate's history, including the venerable Trakehner horse breeding farm—one of Germany's oldest—its agricultural practices, historic buildings, and the von Hessen family, the estate's owners.

In the heart of the elegant Panker complex, the historic Ole Liese Inn awaits to offer you an exclusive gastronomic experience. With its rustic dining room and two other exquisitely decorated rooms, a stop at the Inn is visually captivating. Over the next two hours, you will indulge in an exclusive wine tasting, sampling three award-winning, fully certified organic wines from the renowned Prinz von Hessen winery. Following the tasting, delight in a lunch featuring refined German cuisine made from regional products.

Lisbon (Portugal)

WINE CREATORS! YOU ARE THE ENOLOGIST

Portugal - Lison

Embark on a captivating four-hour excursion dedicated to exploring the renowned wines of the Setubal region. Just an hour's journey from Lisbon's port, you will arrive at the inland hills where the unique limestone and clay soils contribute to Portugal's exceptional wine production.

Your adventure begins at Quinta de Catralvos with an immersive two-hour dive into the world of viticulture and the crafting of the famous Moscatel de Setúbal. Guided by a wine expert, you’ll tour the winery to uncover the intricate processes that transform grapes into exquisite wines.

Next, step into the role of a winemaker through an engaging hands-on workshop. Gain insights into the winemaking craft and create your own blend using various grape varieties. Before concluding your visit, indulge in a tasting session featuring four distinct wines.

As a memorable finale, take home your personally crafted and bottled wine. Then, relax on the hour-long journey back to the port, enriched by your newfound knowledge and experience.

Stavanger (Norway)

STAVANGER, FROM THE OUTSKIRTS TO THE OLD TOWN WITH CIDER TASTING

Norway - Stavanger

Famous for its oil industry, Stavanger offers much more to its visitors. This approximately four-hour excursion lets you discover the beauty of its surroundings and a city that stretches out in an open landscape, unprotected by Norway's imposing mountains. The journey begins with a scenic 90-minute coastal route, featuring highlights such as the medieval church Sola Ruinkyrkje—an important navigational point for the Jæren coast until the 19th century—the Solastranden beach, popular among surfers and kiters, and the quaint town of Ølberg.

Next, you'll visit the suburb of Hafrsfjord, renowned for its three 10-meter-high bronze swords embedded in the rock. Created by sculptor Fritz Røed, these swords commemorate the battle of 872 and Viking King Harald's victory, which unified Norway. The tallest sword represents the victorious king, while the other two signify his defeated challengers.

Upon returning to Stavanger, you'll pass the petroleum museum and embark on a 30-minute walk to Gamle, the historic center filled with perfectly preserved wooden buildings, some dating back to the 18th century. This charming stroll through the old town will conclude at a local café, where you'll enjoy a 75-minute break to savor cider, affectionately called "Norwegian champagne." Known for its ancient production methods, Norwegian cider is highly esteemed worldwide, and we are confident you'll appreciate it after a taste.

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