A Disastrous Fate

The Maine coast has become a much-visited tourist destination. So much so that like Venice, Barcelona, and Amsterdam, Bar Harbor, Maine, is facing protests and controversy over visiting cruise ships dividing the locals into the group that promotes more income from tourism and those wanting to stick to the old ways and not destroy their pristine landscape. But travel further north and inland to the Canadian border and one finds very few tourists. Welcome to northern Aroostook County, simply called “THE County” by Mainers, and with 6,670 square miles is by far the largest county in the state. Few realize how enormous the state of Maine is. From the largest and best-known city, Portland, it takes about another six hours to drive to the most northern border. The first four hours are on Interstate 95 with a speed limit of 75 miles per hour and normally very little traffic. At one rest area one can enjoy a stunning view of Mt. Katahdin, Maine’s highest mountain at almost 5,300 feet. The inhabitants of these far northern towns and villages in this area speak French sprinkled with English words, “Franglais.” It is potato growing county and is becoming a supplier of electricity from wind power for New England. 

I have previously written about northern Maine because we try to visit this pristine part of the United States during the summer months and even for a few weeks every January to experience the International Ice-Fishing Derby. 

This summer started out quietly enough away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life in our country, but a couple of weeks in we witnessed a frightening disaster. 

Our hostess, Sally-Ann Cyr, served late afternoon cocktails on her spacious lake-facing deck that is the perfect setting to enjoy the spectacular sunsets serenaded by the haunting wail of the loons. Aside from the camps dotting the shoreline, all sides of the lake are bordered by forested uninhabited rolling hills. 

At just after seven, the serenity was shattered by a thunderous explosion. The deck seemed to move, and the shockwave rippled through the waters of the lake. Our first thought was that the nearby electric relay station had exploded. Soon a cacophony of sirens could be heard on both sides of the lake, and we got in the car to find out what was going on. About a mile from where we were, in the tiny village of Sinclair, two neighboring homes were engulfed in flames. A propane tank in the basement of one of the homes had ignited, resulting in the enormous explosion. Parts of the property shot high up into the air, landed on the roofs of other homes across the main road of the village and into the lake. The explosion was heard from as far as twenty miles away. 

Firefighters from seven different area fire stations battled the blaze that destroyed two neighboring homes and injured two people. The photos I was able to take some twenty minutes after the initial explosion don’t do the enormous fires justice. 

Luckily, the owner of the exploding home had been in his adjacent but separate garage and the lady in the other home was able to get out before the fire consumed her home entirely except for the front stairs. A three-year-old pit bull mix dog I had just befriended on a walk two days earlier sadly perished in the flames. 

Why do I write about this? According to the follow-up investigation by fire marshals, this horrific disaster was caused by a small 20 lb. propane tank igniting in the basement. A tank millions of people like us use on a regular basis for our barbeques!  

Investigating this I came upon some scary figures of more than 600 such explosions happening every year and exploding tanks causing over 3,000 fires. Propane is combustible and can explode from a flame or simple spark. In rare cases it can even happen from the heat of the sun when temperatures reach 120 degrees Fahrenheit or more, but according to my sources that does not happen to the larger tanks. One of the fire marshals working on the site the next day said to make sure your tank is not in the open sun, but in the shade and never to have a tank filled more than 80% to allow for expansion and never keep a reserve tank under the barbeque and never store propane tanks near air conditioners or heat vents from your home.  

In most states it is actually illegal to store any propane tank inside. Propane is odorless, but by law, a chemical is mixed with the gas to produce a smell that can help detect a leak. 

Until this day I never once really thought about opening my bottle under the barbeque before grilling a steak. But this experience certainly made me think twice. And I will try to make sure that I doublecheck for leaks from now onwards.