Rustic Camden Nestles on Maine’s Restless Coast : Historic harbor town runs on low gear during the ‘off-season.’

By now the leaves have long ago turned to flame above the harbor of Camden: the burnished gold of beech and elm, the scarlet of sumac and maple. On the grassy slopes by the red-brick library, and the white-steepled Chestnut Hill church, tall trees rattle in the wind and scatter streamers of leaves along the crooked streets.

When I sailed into Camden in early September, the woods of nearby Mt. Battie were only faintly flushed with autumn. Yet a sweater felt welcome along the waterfront as I paused to admire Penobscot Indian baskets in a shop called Maine Gathering and carved mallard decoys in a shop called Once a Tree.

Shortly after noon, I followed other deck shoes into Cappy’s Chowder House, a two-story buff-brick pub that prides itself on lobster, crab cakes and zesty white clam chowder. Beverages are served in Mason jars. The decor is Early Shipwreck: ropes, barrels, masts, lobster traps.

Cappy’s claims to be open daily from 7:30 a.m. to midnight--with one caveat: “Please call for off-season hours.”

Off-season can be a problem for travelers to coastal Maine. Many popular inns (such as the Pentagoet in historic Castine and its neighbor, the Castine Inn) close at the end of October and don’t reopen until May. Many restaurants shut down, or serve meals only on weekends.

But a dozen Camden bed and breakfasts--some tucked into 1800s houses--keep their hearths burning all year long. And upstairs at the Owl and the Turtle bookstore, a heart-of-town landmark, I checked out a three-room hostelry that may merit the often misused word unique.

At least the proprietor, Susan Conrad, doesn’t know of any other “bookstore-motel” in the United States, and the trade publication Publishers Weekly has supported the claim.

The place was first a waterfront motel; the bookstore filled only one room. But as the book business grew, the stacks spread and rooms were taken over by best sellers, children’s books, Down East cook ery, old Maine lore.

Guest rooms at the Owl and the Turtle remain simple, yet comfortable, with private baths, private decks and basic chenille spreads instead of Laura Ashley flounce.

Wraparound views are of Camden’s Inner Harbor, of schooners that carry guests on weeklong sails along the rugged Maine coast, and of private craft of all sizes, including--when I was in town--the imposing, dark-green Forbes corporate yacht Highlander. The Highlander, with its lavish suites, dining rooms and top-deck helicopter dubbed Capitalist Tool, is noticeably smaller than the Queen of England’s royal yacht Britannia--but larger than almost everything else.

Especially in little Camden harbor. The word around town that evening, in fact, was that the Highlander had smacked into a couple of smaller vessels as it maneuvered into the dock at Willey’s Wharf.

The word was also that insurance would swiftly cover the damage. Despite the action in the harbor, the Owl and Turtle appealed to me as a serene place to hole up and write, to savor the scent of balsam firs that blends with the tang of the sea.

After all, that had worked for Edna St. Vincent Millay--a native of Maine--who lived in Camden with her mother and sisters until she left for Vassar College in 1917. A bronze statue on the library lawn honors the softly cynical, sometimes irreverent poet, who, it’s said, personified the romantic rebellion of the 1920s.

Her sonnets made use of the Camden of her youth: the weeds and wild grasses, the flowers and trees, even the herbs in her mother’s kitchen garden.

But my favorite Millay verse is one that reaches beyond the state of Maine and reveals a restless edge:

How shall I know, unless I go

To Cairo and Cathay,

Whether or not this blessed spot

Is blest in every way? Now it may be, the flower for me

Is this beneath my nose;

How shall I tell, unless I smell

The Carthaginian rose? The fabric of my faithful love

No power shall dim or ravel

Whilst I stay here, but oh, my

dear,

If I should ever travel! If you go: The Owl and the Turtle, 8 Bay View St., Camden, Me. 04843, (207) 236-9014. Three rooms. Rates: $75, June 1 through October; $55, Nov. 1 through May.

Or write the Camden Bed & Breakfast Society, Box 1103, Camden, Me. 04843.