I’m Jake Newman. The Portland Logbook is my love letter to this city: the food worth hunting down, the history that refuses to die, the corners you only find if you’re paying attention.

There’s a fish in Maine you’re supposed to kiss.

Not metaphorically. Not for a photo. Literally.

It’s called a lumpfish.

I saw my first one at the Children’s Museum aquarium, standing there quietly hoping they’d let me touch a sea anemone. Out of the corner of my eye, a strange, round, armored fish suction-cupped to a piece of kelp drifted past the glass and stole all my attention.

If you’ve never seen one, lumpfish look like a fish that skipped the refinement stage. Thick. Lumpy. Covered in hard bumps instead of scales. Small eyes, big mouth, and a suction cup where fins should be. They use it to latch onto rocks, kelp, docks, lobster traps, even the side of a boat. Once they decide they’re staying put, that’s it.

Fisherman don’t catch lumpfish on purpose. They show up once in a while, usually in the spring, right when the water starts changing. When a lobsterman hauls a trap and finds one clinging to it, there’s a rule that comes up over and over if you spend time around the docks: you kiss it on the lips, then you throw it back.

It’s not treated like a joke. No one explains it with a wink. It’s just stated plainly. Kiss the lumpfish. It’s for luck. It’s for the haul. It’s for the day not turning into a mess. Some people will tell you that you have to. Others will say you technically don’t, but skipping it feels like tempting fate.

There’s another piece of older lore tied to how the fish is built. Because of that suction cup, fishermen used to stick them to the side of the boat as a test. If it stayed stuck, you kept fishing. If it slid off and dropped back into the water, you turned around and went home.

That’s how most Maine fishing superstition works. It isn’t theatrical or mystical. It’s practical. If something strange happens right away, don’t push it. Finding a lumpfish in a lobster trap carries the same weight. You don’t keep it. You don’t kill it. You don’t mess with it. You let it go. Killing one is said to sour the string. Bad hauls. Gear trouble. Weather turning. Whether you believe that literally or not, the rule stuck because enough people learned the hard way.

See Photos of this stunning beauty

The People Who Notice

Lately I’ve been thinking about my neighbors. The actual people who live close enough that I recognize their jackets, their dogs, the sound of their car starting in the morning. The ones whose names I might not know, but whose routines I do. The guy who shovels past his own steps. The quiet understanding that if something goes sideways, someone nearby will notice.

Maine has always worked this way. Long before anyone gave it a name. You don’t make it through winters like ours by keeping to yourself. You rely on people. Not because you agree with them or share much beyond geography, but because that’s how places like this function.

A dead battery jumped without questions. A sidewalk cleared past the property line. A package tucked out of the snow. A text that says “you good?” and doesn’t expect an explanation.

What strikes me is how much of this happens before opinions ever enter the room. Before anyone explains themselves. Before sides. Real community lives at close range. It’s about what’s right in front of you. A person. A need. A moment where you either step in or you don’t.

That kind of care still exists here. You see it during storms. When the power goes out. When people slow down just enough to notice each other. It’s not perfect, but it’s real.

Taking care of your neighbors doesn’t need a statement. It just needs attention. Paying enough of it to know who’s around you. To know when to knock. To know when to leave someone alone. To quietly do the obvious thing.

Have extra winter stuff you don’t need?

THIS WEEKS CONDITIONS
☀️ SUNRISE: 6:55 AM
🌅 SUNSET: 4:46 PM
🌊 SEA TEMP: 40.5 °F (Casco Bay,)
✨ Local Favorite Shop of the Week: Browne Trading Company
✨ Local Artist of the Week: Hannah Via

Portside Real Estate Group

🏡 I write The Portland Logbook, and I also help people buy and sell homes in Portland.

If a move is on your mind, I’m always happy to help you think it through.

Work With Jake

🐾 Adoptable Buddies of the Week! 🐾

🐶 Chauncy – 4 yrs
A joyful, high-energy sweetheart who lives for walks, fetch, and being with his people. House-trained, dog-friendly, and full of personality. Best outside busy downtown areas. No cats. Kids 12+. If you want a dog who brings momentum and love into your days, meet Chauncy.

🐱 Loki – 4 yrs
A handsome, confident cat with a quiet charm. Greets you, plays with purpose, and loves a good perch to watch the world. Not a lap cat, but deeply companionable. Quiet home, no young kids. Feels like the kind of cat who becomes yours over time.

🐶 Astrid – 4 years
Sweet, shy at first, then all in. A calm, affectionate velcro dog who loves her people, knows her basics, and is past the puppy phase. If you want loyalty and cuddles over chaos, Astrid is waiting.

🐕 Interested? Check them out here

If the link doesn’t open anymore, it means they’ve already been adopted!