Island Voices

What follows is a November, 2009 letter sent from Cheryl Lindgren of Vinalhaven Island, off the coast of Maine, to Dr. Monique Aniel, co-chair of the Citizens' Task Force on Wind Power. I share this letter with the author's permission. Fox Island Wind built a 3-turbine wind facility with the Islanders' support. But those living closest to the development were not apprised of the intrusive and damaging effects of living in the shadow of industrial wind. More about the ongoing saga on Vinalhaven in the days to come....
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Monique,

As to my "reflections on the sound"....

We had been told that there would be little or no noise from the turbines, particularly at our location of approx. 2400 ft. As each turbine was put into operation mode the noise increased. I was a bit surprise(d), almost speechless as I tried to grasp what the reailty of the situation was. It was soon apparent that there was a pervasive jet noise. Indeed I still look to the sky to see which direction the jet is going. It never passes. It took a day to be able to articulate what I was actually experiencing because my normal experience would say you hear sound. But my senses were telling me much more. I was hearing the whoosh of the blades, the jet of the nacelle's but there was something else. I was feeling the thrump of the turbines in my chest. A physical sensation that is impossible to escape. I can only say that I feel the sound. To a person who hasn't experienced the sound I usually get a funny look. Anyone within the turbines area knows exactly what I am speaking of. After a day and night of this I can also say that the thrumping can begin to make me feel ever so slightly off balance, in a mild way. I can't figure out if it's lack of sleep, emotional stress or the sounds. Probably all three. After nine years of sleeping with my window open to the quiet of an island night (which can include fog horns, buoy bells, and a babbling brook) I now close my window to try and block the turbine sound, but to no avail. It permeates. I awake in the middle of the night to a heaviness in my chest and my jaw clenched as I try to overcome the creep of the, for lack of a better phrase, the compression of the turbines.

Daily life has changed dramatically. Some days the wind will carry the jet sound to my neighbors instead of me...those days I try to garden outside. "Bad" days are spent inside and I am learning to have music on all the time....it sometimes helps but if there is a moment of silence the thrumping leaks through. The other night was one of the first sparkling clear dark winter nights....stars blazing in a jet black sky. I used to take walks in the darkness, the entire outdoors my cathedral. Now I hide inside. But you really can't hide. When the turbines are at full speed it's a constant, constant sound. Tears come easily these days.

The"'sound" has also affected our flock of ducks who just won't eat on days when the turbines are at 20RPM. When the turbines are off, or slowed down considerably they will eat. And there was one evening when we found an eider duck sitting on our back porch, as surprised as we were to find him there. I have heard that animals will flee the area around the wind farms. I think they have more sense than we do.

I hope this is of some help. Thanks for all your efforts.

Cheryl Lindgren