When just a young boy I came across a copy of a book in my parent's library which to this day transports me Down East, to that state of mind commonly known as Maine. Yankee Coast: the book's title didn't catch my interest (as I was before the reading age) it was the series of pen and ink illustrations which captivated me and brought me back again and again. Indeed, today I can find my childish hand of six or seven years autographing and embellishing these very illustrations. In later years the author's name struck me as a wonderfully New England one: Robert P. Tristram Coffin.

This is a book written in prose... but is pure poetry. The imagery sparkles and the fresh air nips at me while I read... hardy island people, rugged interior forests, steaming red lobsters all contribute to my dreams and reminiscences... large families and strings of geese overhead... seaworthy dinghys, brave lighthouses, harbor buoys...