For a few weeks in August, the wild-blueberry season transforms the rocky land north of Bar Harbor into an all-hands-on-deck hub of frantic productivity. Beyond the coastline, past evergreen trees dotting the shore, green blueberry fields stretch into the distance. In acre after acre, pickers hunch over their rakes, sifting up berries and throwing them into big crates, while machines harvest the fruit in nearby fields. During this end-of-summer rush, the northern half of the state will produce more than 80 million pounds of Maine wild blueberries.
Lobster may be the signature flavor of Vacationland, but here, the blueberry is king. About 45 minutes northwest of Bar Harbor, the town of Cherryfield is, ironically, the self-proclaimed “Blueberry Capital of the World.” Home to Wyman’s, the largest U.S. producer of wild blueberries, the town traces its name to the wild-cherry trees that once grew abundantly here. Today, locals have recast the moniker as a reference to the cherry-red flush of blueberry bushes in autumn. So much of the local economy depends on this crop—from the local producers of blueberry wine, to the restaurants selling blueberry pies, to the equipment suppliers and rake manufacturers—that it’s common to overhear locals inquiring after one another’s fields and harvests before asking about family.
This abundant love of wild blueberries culminates in the annual Wild Blueberry Festival in Machias, halfway between Cherryfield and the Canadian border. During the third weekend in August, the town hosts a blueberry jubilee, with pie-eating contests, bake-offs, pancake breakfasts, fish-fry dinners, craft booths, and road races. The highlight is the always-sold-out blueberry-themed musical production at Centre Street Congregational Church. Past performances include “The Big Blue Theory” and “In Lieu of Flowers, Send Blueberries.” Congregants of all ages make up the cast, and watching from the pews, it would appear that any resident who’s not actually up on stage must be in the audience cheering them on. “It’s a tradition, for sure,” says Kathy Winham, a former archaeologist, who, with her British husband, Peter, now runs The Englishman’s Bed & Breakfast in Cherryfield. “The whole festival is an institution for Machias and the entire county.”
It’s a lot of fuss over such a small berry. But wild blueberries are more than just a tasty summer fruit or a filler of pancakes and muffins. This is a mighty species, both in its importance to this community and in its ability to take root in such inhospitable terrain. One of just three native North American berries (cranberries and wild grapes also share the distinction, while other common contenders, like strawberries and raspberries, aren’t technically berries at all), it is indeed wild—unlike its more-common counterpart, the plump and towering highbush blueberry. Wild Vaccinium angustifolium—both the bush and the fruit—are about a third the size of their domesticated counterparts, and, as their name implies, they’re difficult to plant or transport, though determined gardeners with just the right blend of acidic soil and abundant sunshine may manage to grow them, if they’re lucky.
In this way, notes Wyman’s CEO, Ed Flanagan, they’re more like a mineral resource than an agricultural crop; they’re either there or they’re not. All of Maine’s wild blueberries are part of an indigenous network of underground runners (or rhizomes) that grow along the rugged coastal lands of northern Maine, Atlantic Canada, and Quebec. This rocky landscape, affectionately known as “the barrens,” is the product of a glacial retreat that occurred more than 13,000 years ago, and its starkness seems to promise nothing but lichen and weeds. Yet tucked among the rocks, the low-lying bushes are bursting with tiny berries, stretching as far as the eye can see.
The barrens are vast, but nature can hardly keep pace with demand. Wild blueberries are lauded as a “superfood,” offering double the antioxidant power of highbush blueberries, with anti-inflammatory properties that hold promise for the treatment of cancer and Alzheimer’s disease. For Flanagan, feeding this supply chain is a delicate balance. The plants are biennial bearers: They produce fruit only every other year. And the company, which was founded in 1874 by Jasper Wyman, remains small and family-owned, despite the ubiquity of those bright-blue Wyman’s bags in the frozen-foods aisle. So careful management is key. As Flanagan puts it, “We were doing this sustainability thing before we knew what the word meant.”
One major focus: funding research into honeybee preservation with Penn State and the University of Maine to understand the cause of colony-collapse disorder, and speaking out on the importance of pollinators to the U.S. food system. Because without pollinators, there would be no blue-berries. And without blueberries, an essential culture would be lost. For farmers like Donny Jordan, it’s unthinkable. He’s retired now, after 40 years in the barrens. “But if I were 16,” he says, “I’d be right back there.”
If traveling to Maine isn’t on your itinerary, try these summer recipes, from classics like Blueberry Cobbler and Blueberry Molasses Cake to showstoppers like Blueberry Dutch-Baby, Blueberry Buttermilk Tart, and Pavlova with Blueberries & Lime Curd.
Measurements are calibrated for the smaller wild blueberries, so if you’re using the larger highbush berries, simply increase the amount by about 25 percent. (For example, 1 cup wild would become 1 1/4 cups highbush.)
Learn More: Best Maine Wild Blueberry Festivals