The Linda Kate pulls up to Falmouth Town Landing, lobster traps stacked high in the stern and two yellow dogs on deck, tails wagging. She towers over most other fishing boats in the harbor, the gunwales above eye level as Colleen Francke hops down onto the dock. The ocean temperature is in the low 50s, and when the wind blows, the cold cuts through polar fleece.

Three women join Francke and her husband, Brent Nappi, aboard the Linda Kate. They show up in jeans and sweatpants but change into oversized Grundéns overalls and boots. All hands are clad in bulky orange fishing gloves, and all eyes are on Francke. These women are all in recovery, and they are working together on a boat for the first time today.

For many, Maine is “Vacationland, the state’s slogan as advertised on road signs and license plates. Maine means hiking in Acadia National Park; rocky, foggy coastlines dotted with lighthouses; and of course, lobster rolls. Lobstering in Maine is a $1 billion industry, but it’s also one under threat, as the Gulf of Maine is warming faster than 99 percent of the world’s oceans. Lobster fisheries in nearby Rhode Island and Massachusetts have been decimated, and as the ocean changes, fishers here are looking to diversify their businesses. Some, like Francke, are even becoming farmers. Kelp farmers.

In the last few years, the number of seaweed farmers in Maine has mushroomed, with 147 small site permits granted in 2019, more than five times the figure in 2014. Sea farms here mostly grow sugar kelp, which is used in food products from seaweed salads to smoothies, and by restaurants in New York, Boston and Portland, where local eateries had their first Seaweed Week this year.

Kelp is a zero-input crop, and as long as it has sunlight, it will grow while releasing oxygen into the surrounding water. In late April or May, after it has been underwater for about seven months, farmers harvest the kelp. They are required to have all of their gear out of the water by June for the start of the lobstering and recreational boating season.

Although she had long wanted to start her own sea farm, Francke didn’t fulfill this dream until after she entered recovery for alcohol in 2016. She has now been sober for three years, and she credits a supportive group of women for helping her through the process. This is where she got the idea for Salt Sisters a project that supports local women in recovery who want to work alongside Francke on her kelp farm.

“The concept behind Salt Sisters and getting women in recovery out on the water comes from my personal experience, Francke says. “Working outside, in nature, and having the responsibility of them nurturing and caring for something as it grows is an experience that I believe can positively impact the lives of women looking for a new perspective.