I’ve always been a gunkholer: meandering in kayak or skiff, seeking out those shallow, out-of-the-way places other boaters might pass by, studying charts to find spots where—if the tide was right—I might just be able to sneak into and enjoy. Draw a five-mile circle around our camp on Hurricane Sound, Vinalhaven, and there are more of such places than I’ll ever have time to explore. Some are places for half tide coming; like the sloughs on the east and west ends of Penobscot Island, where every additional few inches of the rising tide allows your little craft to penetrate a little farther. Or the quarter acre of tidal rapids that leads to the narrow slot of the Granite Island bridge and into the 500-acre Basin Preserve. And then there are the low tide places, like this one where, for just an hour or two at the very bottom of a tide, an exquisite white sand beach is briefly revealed, perfect for grandparents and little ones.