iver.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 1675, a group of drunken sailors, anchored off the coast of what is now southern Maine came across a young Native American mother in a canoe with her child.

There had been tales circulating around that an Indian b

The Saco river begins in the mountains of New Hampshire and winds it's way through southern Maine to the Atlantic ocean. It is a rough and dangerous river which has taken the lives of many who chose to risk it. Every year the news media reports the crashing of boats on the rocks or kids braving the ice chunks. The mouth of the river is a place called Camp Ellis. Just a few weeks ago during a major storm a few houses collapsed as Camp Ellis with the help of the river, is slowly eroding away into the ocean.

I once went on a fishing trip with my father. We went to a popular fishing spot at a place called the Skeleton Dam. The water was deep there, so it was the perfect spot for catching trout. There were a few people there that day, including an old man who my father just happened to know from his own childhood. They talked for a little while.

He, at one point, turned to me and said, “You know this river is cursed don’t you?” Of course I didn’t, but I was sure about to find out. As it turns out, there is an old legend in southern Maine regarding the early English settlers and the Saco River.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 1675, a group of drunken sailors, anchored off the coast of what is now southern Maine came across a young Native American mother in a canoe with her child.

There had been tales circulating around that an Indian ba

s or kids braving the ice chunks. The mouth of the river is a place called Camp Ellis. Just a few weeks ago during a major storm a few houses collapsed as Camp Ellis with the help of the river, is slowly eroding away into the ocean.

I once went on a fishing trip with my father. We went to a popular fishing spot at a place called the Skeleton Dam. The water was deep there, so it was the perfect spot for catching trout. There were a few people there that day, including an old man who my father just happened to know from his own childhood. They talked for a little while.

He, at one point, turned to me and said, “You know this river is cursed don’t you?” Of course I didn’t, but I was sure about to find out. As it turns out, there is an old legend in southern Maine regarding the early English settlers and the Saco River.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 1675, a group of drunken sailors, anchored off the coast of what is now southern Maine came across a young Native American mother in a canoe with her child.

There had been tales circulating around that an Indian b

ther. We went to a popular fishing spot at a place called the Skeleton Dam. The water was deep there, so it was the perfect spot for catching trout. There were a few people there that day, including an old man who my father just happened to know from his own childhood. They talked for a little while.

He, at one point, turned to me and said, “You know this river is cursed don’t you?” Of course I didn’t, but I was sure about to find out. As it turns out, there is an old legend in southern Maine regarding the early English settlers and the Saco River.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 1675, a group of drunken sailors, anchored off the coast of what is now southern Maine came across a young Native American mother in a canoe with her child.

There had been tales circulating around that an Indian b

alked for a little while.

He, at one point, turned to me and said, “You know this river is cursed don’t you?” Of course I didn’t, but I was sure about to find out. As it turns out, there is an old legend in southern Maine regarding the early English settlers and the Saco River.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 1675, a group of drunken sailors, anchored off the coast of what is now southern Maine came across a young Native American mother in a canoe with her child.

There had been tales circulating around that an Indian b

iver.

The story goes like this. Back in the summer of 1675, a group of drunken sailors, anchored off the coast of what is now southern Maine came across a young Native American mother in a canoe with her child.

There had been tales circulating around that an Indian baby could swim from birth, so the sailors decided to put this to the test. They captured the canoe, took the baby from the mother and threw him right into the water, where he drowned.

When the mother returned to her tribe, she spoke with the chief who instructed the medicine man to place a curse upon the river. The curse was said to go like this. Three or more white man shall die in this river every year.

He then warned me to be very careful around here.

This wouldn’t be the last time I heard of it either. While telling my grandmother the story, she dug out a box of 45 rpm records. There was a song about it, that she had, called the Curse of the Saco River. The song was sung by a local woman, although I do not remember who.

So far, to my knowledge, this number has held true. There are also various stories about the curse of the Saco River on the web. A Google search will turn some of them up. But I can testify that if you live in southern Maine, you are bound to see news stories every year of people drowning. Perhaps it’s just the nature of the beast. Perhaps it’s due to