Chickawaukie Ice Boat Club

Thanks to everyone who sent their kind remembrances of Lloyd Roberts. Without a question iceboating would be nowhere near the success is it today in Maine without him. I met Lloyd on Chickie when I was a skate sailor. The DN’s looked so appealing, sailing fast upwind, laying down! I reached over to a group of them, just standing around as I learned later they are wont to do, and began chatting with the tall guy. He was interested in my sail and before I knew it stuffed his GPS into my top pocket and said “Let’s see how fast that thing will go!” I liked him immediately.
He went on to become a major mentor in my development as a sailor and builder. Not only would Maine not be where it is today, I wouldn’t either.

Please note at the bottom of the obituary that there will be a gathering. The iceboaters are being asked to cast some of his ashes into the lake. We had many supreme sails from Roberts Beach over the years. Baked beans and hot chocolate over the fire never tasted so good.

ROCKPORT — Lloyd Roberts, 92, beloved husband, father, grandfather and friend, died on August 12 during the total solar eclipse, after having endured a series of strokes. Lloyd grew up in the suburbs of Boston attending the Fenn School and Middlesex School, where he excelled at science and math. He went on to higher education at Harvard University and Tufts Medical School. Many of his summers from childhood on were spent on the island of Vinalhaven.

In September of 1952, at the Harvard-Radcliffe Freshman mixer, he met his future wife, Marjorie Force Roberts. They married in 1955, 71 years ago. She was by his side when he passed peacefully in his sleep.

After residency, he entered the Air Force and was stationed as a pathologist at Langley Air Force Base in Virginia. He then finished his training at Lackland Base in San Antonio, Texas, where he both learned to fly and started a home-built plane

He and his wife moved their growing family (four children, cats, and a dog) from Texas to Alexandria, Virginia; Cooperstown, New York; and finally Maine where he started at the Knox hospital soon to become PenBay Medical Center. There he enjoyed being close to his family home on Vinalhaven.

The Roberts family moved first to Camden and eventually to a house on Chickawaukie Lake in Rockport where he could indulge his love of rowing in summer and ice-boating in winter. He continued to engage in his other favorite pastimes of model airplanes and shooting clay pigeons up until his last few months.

He is survived by his wife, Marjorie; daughters Abigail Fuller and Rebecca Vose; son, Sumner Roberts; and grandson, Nicholas Fuller, who had moved in to support Marjorie and Lloyd in his wish to pass quietly at home.

He was predeceased by his daughter Stephanie Serrano in 2018.

There will be a celebration of his life on September 23, at 2 p.m., at 140 Porter St., in Rockport, Maine.

I met Lloyd about 1990. Inspired by a decrepit Skimmer on Clary Lake, a friend and I built an iceboat out of muffler tubing with a blue tarp sail.
In a gale of wind it went fast enough, the downside being that after a wreck it was impossible to beat it back into alignment. I have forgotten
how we connected, but Lloyd came to my farm to view the boat, sat in it, tested the tiller, and was very diplomatic in his appraisal.

I was doing business as Organic Heavy Bulldozing, specializing in digging farm ponds and cranberry beds, and clearing farmland, using large elderly
bulldozers. These could be bought cheaply and would pay for themselves on the first or second job if they didn’t break down. They had to be home repaired,
and I bought several old RR box cars to store parts and tools in. The truck driver who delivered the cars said that he also had an iceboat, which had sold at
the Brunswick Air Base auction, and for which he wanted $200. It was then under some bushes in Calais, having belonged to the rec department of the
Winter Harbor base. It turned out to be a Nite, #86, sloppily painted blue over a red gelcoat, with a riveted label reading “Property of the US Navy.”

After paint removal and a new sail, I brought it to the Roberts’ Heron Beach, and for a number of winters afterwards parked it there, Chickawaukie being
the hot spot of Maine ice boating. I often sailed alone, with Lloyd keeping an eye on me from his shop. But the most memorable sail was on Sebago after the
excitement surrounding the resurrection of the stern-steerer Slipper. It was Lloyd’s idea. The ice was perfect — mirror smooth but with grip —and the northeasterly
wind was steady and occasionally strong enough to lift a runner. The Nite and Lloyd’s Northeaster Raven were perfectly matched, and the runners ran silently.
We sailed on and on, mesmerized, until, when almost out of sight of land, it occurred to us that it would be a very long push back, following our runner tracks
in the dark, if the wind died with the last of the sun. So we came about and the wind stayed true and carried us back to Nason’s Beach, empty but for a few groggy
stragglers loading up their DNs.

My father, Henry Bunting, died at 42, when I was 9. He was a pathologist — as was Lloyd — and de facto small town emergency doctor. He and Lloyd
were of similar build and temperament, both with dry humor, broad interests, multiple practical skills, and highest character. (Dad had also been a ski jumper
and skate sailer). It is said that when a child loses a parent they spend they rest of their life searching for a replacement, and perhaps it is so — there were surely
ways in which Lloyd served in that role to me. It does not seem possible that Lloyd and I were only ten years apart in age — thirty would seem about right.
Lloyd is greatly missed, with my thanks for all that he brought to my life.

Bill Bunting

I first met Lloyd and Bill on the ice at Damariscotta Lake many years ago now, I was skate sailing with a kite at my father had built, and watching the Iceboats fly by. After striking up a conversation with Lloyd and Bill I was offered to take a sail on a DN which I happily agreed to. As I remember, it was like sailing through a doorway that I could never return back through, the hook had been set.

Shortly after I joined the club, Lloyd asked me if I would be willing to take on the responsibilities as treasurer, as he was wanting to step back a little. He also asked me to be purveyor of his and Warner‘s book. I happily agreed.
“Think Ice” has traveled the world as did Lloyd. It has opened up the world of Iceboating to so many people, and today it is still considered the essential book for iceboating.

A tip of the helmet to you Lloyd for the trust you placed in me, and for being my mentor and friend. We will find trusted souls to pass your club and legacy onto and we’ll keep it going as long as there’s ice.

“Vaya con Dios” my friend.
I’ll see you on the ice again one day.

Sent from my iPad

Lloyd Roberts died peacefully during an afternoon nap last week, a peaceful ending to a long and vital life, which was so much a part of my own. Lloyd was a skilled pathologist at Pen Bay, a solid father and husband, but he was also the most avid hobbyist I have ever known.
Strangely, we shared a deep passion for four hobbies: amateur radio, motorcycles, sliding-seat rowing, and–most especially—a total obsession with all ice activities, mainly iceboating. He was also a flier, and hands-on builder of anything. Here he is in 2003, patiently overseeing my building of an iceboat:

Lloyd could combine a strong passion for hobbies with his other obligations. I remember hearing tales of Marge and the kids driving in rural Cooperstown, New York; to bring Lloyd home as he landed his piloted glider in farmer’s fields.
I have so many stories of our many hobbies, i can’t begin to begin. His real slowdown only began in his early 90’s. With all his expertese in healthcare, he was able to survive and thrive through so many heart-related crises.
This man–this amazingly energetic and connective being–how can I sufficiently praise him? Sometimes, as I foolishly crashed through the ice, he was there escorting me, protesting, into a hot shower.
I like to think of him now traveling on, full of elan, so naturally helping others live likewise.
jory

Iceboating legend Lloyd Roberts died peacefully at home this past Wednesday. He’d had a few small strokes in recent months and on this particular day he laid down for a nap and never woke up.

It’s no exaggeration to say that without Lloyd’s guidance, support, deserved criticism and encouragement, iceboating in Maine wound not be what it is today. His influence was felt worldwide through his excellent book “Think Ice”, the intro to iceboating for many hundreds of sailors.

Lloyd was 92. There is a service planned for September 23 at the house. Details and confirmation to follow.