Lobsters and Wild Blueberries

AI Jack is back. I really wanted to walk and talk this one out and my 950 word transcript definitely needed a bit of AI clean up…

The Lobster Detour

After breakfast at my Airbnb, my host recommended I check out Belfast, Maine. She specifically raved about a spot called Young’s Lobster Pound. Given my interest in possibly making a video on the lobster industry — not necessarily starting a business, just exploring it — I decided to make the trip.

On the way, I called a lobster fisherman my host was connected to. She insisted I reach out. I did — and somehow, I ended up scheduled for a 3:30 a.m. lobster boat departure on Friday. With video gear in tow. That’ll be fun.

I still headed to Belfast to learn more about lobsters in the meantime. First stop: a parking lot with a giant sign boasting five million hot dogs eaten. They looked really good, and I’m picky about hot dogs — but I was still stuffed from breakfast. Even though they were only five bucks, I passed. In hindsight, maybe I made the right call… maybe.

Then I got to Young’s Lobster Pound. Cool place. Great if you’re hungry — which I wasn’t. They had lobsters steaming, seafood towers stacked, but again, not the vibe when you’re full at 11:05 a.m. I was hoping to learn how the lobsters get into the lobster pound, but no one there had much to share.

One of the employees pointed across the harbor: “That’s where the fishing boats are — check it out.”

So I drove over. Five-minute drive — well, ten, because I missed a turn while on the phone (this keeps happening). I pulled up to a big building with a massive boat inside. I walked in, no idea what I was stepping into. A guy came toward me, and I introduced myself.

“Oh, I build boats,” he said. So… not a lobster fisherman. We agreed on that quickly. He then pointed back across the harbor — “That’s where you want to go — Young’s Lobster Pound.”

When two people start pointing in opposite directions, it’s usually a sign to move on. And I did.

The lobster boat trip was locked in for Friday morning. Mission already accomplished. Time to focus on the next curiosity.

Enter: The Wild Blueberry

Maine is known for a lot, but two things stand out: lobster and wild blueberries. Specifically, lowbush wild blueberries— a unique variety that grows naturally in certain parts of the state thanks to its glacial soil.

There’s a town called Cherryfield, which claims to be the Blueberry Capital of the World. That’s where you’ll find companies like Wyman’s and Cherryfield Foods. These are big players — the kind of names you only see if you shop the frozen fruit section.

The wild part is real — these blueberries weren’t planted. They just grow there. But to yield fruit, they’re farmed in a two-year cycle: one half of the field is harvested while the other regenerates. After harvest, the bushes are cut down to the ground — just dirt above, but the root system underneath stays alive. The next year, the plant grows back and finally bears fruit again.

Anyway, that’s the overview.

In Search of the Farmer

My goal was to film the blueberry harvest. But I quickly found out that Maine’s wild blueberry season doesn’t start until late July — totally different from New York’s. So instead, I shifted gears: let me at least talk to someone in the industry.

I headed to Cherryfield without a specific destination — just a feeling that I should go. When in doubt? Go to the library.

I walked in, told the librarian what I was trying to do, and she was incredible. Took 10 minutes to make me a detailed list of local companies, names, emails, and numbers. I left with an itinerary.

Stop 1: Wyman’s

Big fields on both sides of the road. Huts for migrant workers to stay during harvest season. I stopped by both their freezing facility and the fields — but no luck. Gatekeepers at every stop. “They’re on vacation.” “We’re busy.” “Try calling next time.”

Strikeout.

Stop 2: A Small Grower

I found a small farm. The owner gave me about five minutes and shared a few thoughts. But he clearly didn’t want to keep chatting. That was it.

I paused: Maybe I’m not as interested in wild blueberries as I thought?

But no — I was interested. I just hadn’t met anyone interested in talking about them. Big difference.

Stop 3: Cherryfield Foods

Another major player. I walked in like before and spoke to the front desk. She was polite and gave me a few minutes, but the result was the same: “Too busy,” “Someone’s out,” “Calendar’s full.”

I was walking out when someone appeared — a man in a button-down shirt, no shoes, and asked:

“Hey, is there anything I can help with?”

Yes. Yes, there is.

Finally: A Conversation

We ended up talking for over 70 minutes. Just standing in the office, diving deep into the blueberry world. He broke down the entire wild blueberry ecosystem — the farming process, the cycles, and beyond.

We got into land use, organic farming, pesticides, the Amish, public education, and more. It was the conversation I had been looking for — honest, curious, and full of detail.

I left feeling energized.

I headed back to the Cherryfield library, which has the best internet in town, and did a workout while uploading video footage to the cloud. Afterward, I drove back into town, grabbed a burrito, booked a motel, and wrapped up some work at a local bar over a $3 5oz IPA.

End of day.

-Jack