Elaine Chris Cobb passed away on December 2, 2024. She often remarked that she came “from the Nuns” in Cleveland, Ohio, born on 6/16/1949 and raised within Catholic and Mennonite communities. While working full-time, she trained as a Registered Nurse at the Cleveland Clinic. Seeking a change after her graduation, Chris arrived in Maine in […]
Elaine Chris Cobb passed away on December 2, 2024. She often remarked that she came “from the Nuns” in Cleveland, Ohio, born on 6/16/1949 and raised within Catholic and Mennonite communities. While working full-time, she trained as a Registered Nurse at the Cleveland Clinic.
Seeking a change after her graduation, Chris arrived in Maine in 1974 as a passenger on a windjammer, where she was invited to step in as a second cook. After several seasons and boats, she found herself at OpSail 76 Tall Ships in New York City, where she met and married the mate of a barkentine. Serving as the Medical Officer on a sailing school ship in the Mediterranean led her to a tour of Europe and a honeymoon in Paris.
Throughout her career, Chris dedicated many years to Pen Bay Hospital, working in the ICU and Emergency Room before becoming a beloved School Nurse at Rockland and then Wiscasset. She always sported “healthy snack” earrings.
Chris and Steve owned and ran the schooner Mary Day for many years within the Windjammer trade, sailing out of Camden, Maine.
Recently, Chris took on travel again, becoming a tour guide/director leading organized coach tours throughout New England and the Maritime Provinces.
I am standing at the water’s edge. A ship, beside me,
unfurls her white sails to the gentle breeze and sets
off for the vast blue ocean. She is a vision of beauty and power.
I gaze at her until, ultimately, she appears like a tiny speck
of white cloud where the sea and sky meet in harmony.
Then, someone near me remarks, “There, she is gone.”
Gone where?
Gone from my view. That is all. She remains just as grand in her mast,
hull, and spar as she was when she departed from my side.
And she is just as capable of carrying her load of life to her intended destination.
Her diminished size exists within me — not within her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, “There, she is gone,”
other eyes are watching her arrival, and other voices
are ready to echo the joyous shout, “Here she comes!” And that is dying…
