It was the end of a beautiful sail across Casco Bay. The wind was from the northwest at a gentle 10 to 12 knots and our 25-foot sloop, Sea Urchin, bounded along over the placid sea. We had decided to spend the night at Richmond Island, just off Cape Elizabeth. On the eastern side of the private island there is a magnificent stand of pines and on the western side there is a gently rolling pasture. The slopes of pastureland ease down to a lovely sandy beach.

As we glided into the east side of the island I thought to myself, we must be as close to paradise as we could possibly get. My wife went forward, we lowered our sails and started the engine. We motored up to the causeway that connects the island to the mainland. Over the years I've found that area to be a good, calm anchorage. Shortly after we bad backed down on our anchor, I looked over to the island, where there was a small yellow dory lobstering close to shore. What drew my attention to the dory was the sound of the engine. The exhaust made an uncharacteristic noise. Most lobster boats roar from trap to trap — this boat "putted" between traps, sounding a bit like a one-lunger.

Knowing that our cruise was nearing its end and that we would not be in Maine waters much longer, I asked my mate what she had planned for dinner. She said that the fresh food was gone and that we had a choice of corned beef hash or beef stew. I said, "Why don't we see if that lobsterman in the yellow dory will sell us some of his catch?" The idea struck a responsive chord so I waited for a chance to hail the industrious lobsterman.

I didn't have long to wait. As he maneuvered his vessel across our bow I waved to him and he immediately altered course and headed in our direction. As he neared us I could see the name of his vessel, Hunky Dory. As he came alongside I asked, "What do you have for power?" He drew up closer, putting his hand on our toerail, and said with some satisfaction, "I took my Briggs & Stratton lawnmower engine and put her in here. Now she powers both the propeller and the hauler winch." He looked at the engine and he looked at me and smiled, and I nodded in approval.

We spoke briefly about his ingenuity and the savings on gas it had produced. I asked him if he ever sold lobsters from his boat to cruising people. He stood silent for a moment then said that he did and that they would cost $2 each. I happily told him that we would like two. As he looked through his day's catch he said that he'd give us two real big ones.

The first one he pulled out was at least a pound and three-quarters and as he handed it to me I thought to myself that I must have misunderstood him when he quoted the price. Surely he must have meant $2 a pound. When he handed me a second lobster of equal size I was sure that I had not heard him correctly. So after putting these beauties into our cooking pot I asked him, "How much do I owe you?"

He looked at me quizzically and said with a bit of irritation in his voice, "Four dollars." I had heard him correctly. We were practically stealing these lobsters. I went below and found that a five was the smallest bill I had. When I handed it to him he said, "I hope I've got some change." He looked through his wallet and searched his pockets but found he didn't have $1 for change. He apologized, but I assured him that those two lobsters were easily worth the money I had given him. He said that he was sure that they would "cook up real good" for us. With a wave he fired up his lawnmower-powered dory and was off to haul more traps.

Within an hour my wife and I were feasting on some of the best lobster we had ever had. It had nothing to do with cost, but simply they were good, fresh Maine lobsters. As the sun gave up its last brilliant rays to the west, with my appetite completely satiated, I thought, this truly is paradise!

The next morning broke beautifully clear with just a slight northwest breeze left over from the day before. We hoisted the mainsail and slowly ghosted out from our most pleasant anchorage on our way home. As we were passing the shore of the island I noticed Hunky Dory working his traps. Within a few minutes he turned from his work and headed our way. As he came alongside I could see that he was holding a $1 bill. I chuckled to myself as he handed me the dollar and said firmly, "A deal's a deal,"

I thanked him again and told how much we had enjoyed his lobsters. With a quick nod and a smile he turned toward the shore to renew his work. As we watched him leave us I said, "Only in Maine."