By David Hench
Portland Press Herald
CUMBERLAND COUNTY, Maine — A group of young girls leapt squealing from the ferry pier on Long Island, then yelled back to the uniformed Cumberland County sheriff’s deputy to jump in as well. Deputy Joe Schnupp cheerfully declined, pointing out that he had made the imposing leap once, in years past.
''I remember. It was your birthday,’' one of the youths, treading water below, called out.
The exchange illustrates how deputies assigned to patrol the island towns of Casco Bay for the summer immerse themselves in island life, moving their families out to the island and serving as referees for the small-town squabbles that can threaten the simple tranquility of the confined space, where everyone knows each other and family ties often are measured in generations.
''You’re in a fishbowl,’' Schnupp said. ''This is truly a microcosm of human beings — but it’s a nice one, too.’'
This is Schnupp’s 10th summer working and living on Long Island, part of the island’s contract for extra law enforcement services from the Cumberland County Sheriff’s Office.
Scott Secord has just started his first contract with the brand-new town of Chebeague Island, which this year won its independence from Cumberland. He already has learned that the intimacy of island life means few things are kept quiet.
''What you do for one you better do for the other, because everyone knows,’' he said. ''Everything you do over here travels like flame to gas. In no time they’ll be talking about it with my wife at the play group on the other end of the island.’'
Secord, his wife, Amy, and their 3-year-old son, Wilson, moved into a house provided by the island government, a one-story cottage with the customary display of sea glass, shells and bathing suits decorating the porch railing, and with shingles weathered brown by the salt air.
''The island has opened its arms to Scott and in doing that, they’ve opened their arms to Wilson and I,’' Amy Secord said.
The islands pay extra to have deputies present during the busy summer months. On Chebeague, the population grows from 350 people year-round to as many as 2,000 in the summer. Long Island has about the same number of summer people, and during the winter, Schnupp said, ''with the twins that were just born, we’re at 204 or 205.’'
The roads are narrow, some pitted asphalt and some dirt. There are no street signs or speed-limit signs. The limit for all of Long Island is 20 mph, and Chebeague’s limit is 30 mph.
''Everybody drives down the middle till somebody else is coming, and then they’re in the ditch,’' Secord said.
Serving as an island deputy is community policing in the extreme. It’s not an assignment for an officer who thrives on catching bad guys or writing a lot of traffic tickets.
''A stolen golf cart or vandalism, something like that is usually the major crime,’' said Dick Clarke, Long Island’s fire chief, director of solid waste, road commissioner and emergency management director. ''The deputy plays more of the peace officer than the strong arm.’'
What can seem like minor mischief on the mainland can be serious quality-of-life issues on an island.
Recently, Schnupp was called on to sort out a dispute that followed youths breaking a house window with rocks.
''It’s not a big crime ‘uptown’'' he said, referring to the city of Portland, ''but it really broke that person’s sense of security.’'
Schnupp convinced everyone involved to come to his house to discuss the incident and arrange for restitution and reconciliation.
''We’re all on a one- by three-mile rock,’' Schnupp said. ''You have to ride the boat, go to church, the kids go to school. You need to straighten it out.’'
Schnupp, his wife and three children spend the summer in a house that used to be a fire station.
Kris Schnupp said living on the island is a wonderful opportunity, but her husband’s job on the island is much more a part of her day-to-day life than it is on the mainland.
''When we’re here, he’s on duty,’' she said, as she cut watermelon for the couple’s three children, who were playing on a Slip ‘n Slide in the backyard. ''Sometimes they’ll call, or they might knock on the door at 3 a.m.,’' she said, referring to islanders with a police issue.
On the mainland, officers often guard their private lives with unlisted telephones and addresses. That’s not possible on one of the bay’s islands, where everybody can see where the cruiser parks and people are more likely to call or visit the deputy directly rather than call 911.
Chief Deputy Kevin Joyce said county deputies cover the islands all year, but outside of the summer months they generally react to calls for service without being stationed there. One challenge has been getting island residents to report incidents.
''They tend to want to take care of things themselves or think ‘If I call on my neighbor, then they’re going to know where the call came from and now I’m being ostracized for reporting it,'Joyce said.
The quality of life on the islands is quintessential small-town, Mayberry RFD, and the island deputies are charged with keeping it that way, prompting comparisons with Andy Griffith.
''They like their community and are very much interested in keeping it the way it is,’' Secord said.
He bent to pick up a beer can and a plastic soda bottle, putting them in a barrel at the end of the town wharf. Then he chalked tires so he could discover who has left cars there more than 24 hours. The lack of parking at the ferry landing is a persistent island nuisance, as is speeding to reach the boat.
He’ll also be patrolling around midnight, guarding against illegal bonfires on the beach and underage drinking. During the day he’s pushing bicycle helmets and car seats, trying to overcome the casual approach to safety that accompanies the island’s laid-back lifestyle.
They do get emergency calls. Secord and Schnupp were summoned at 3 a.m. July 22, grabbing a lift from the Coast Guard to respond to a domestic disturbance on Jewell Island, an island of campsites, half of which is Chebeague and half Portland. Nobody was hurt. The deputies left without making an arrest.
Secord usually works as a corrections officer at the county jail, though he has worked contract assignments in Naples. His years as a commercial fisherman don’t hurt on an island with a long fishing tradition.
Jared Smith, holding court at Chebeague’s only gas pump, thinks Secord’s first weeks have gone well.
''He’s pretty personable. I think he’ll be a good fit for the island,’' Smith said. ''He may not have as much excitement, but he’s definitely there, which makes everyone feel good.’'
The deputies say the same island mystique that draws summer residents and retains islanders makes the island patrol special.
''It is nostalgia,’' Schnupp said. ''My family has had an opportunity to experience life you can only read about.’'
Copyright 2007 Blethen Maine Newspapers, Inc.