No Canadian licence plates were visible on Main Street in Presque Isle, Maine, on a recent Saturday in July, as the region’s leaders seek to persuade Canadians to return.Nathan VanderKlippe/The Globe and Mail
New signs greet Canadians still crossing the border into northeastern Maine with a cheery bilingual message of “Bienvenue à nos amis canadiens!” Officials have taken care to ensure the Maple Leaf is still fluttering, and that frayed flags are replaced. The airport in Presque Isle has urged its employees to be delicate in conversation with Canadian travellers who may not want to hear American views on trade and tariffs.
No joking about the 51st state, local tourism authorities have urged. No chatting even amongst staff about how nice it would be to get to Canadian Tire without a passport, lest a Canadian customer overhear.
Any of that at this moment is in “especially poor taste and we can treat the topic like talking about politics between staff and customers – we just don’t do it,” said Jacob Pelkey, the Aroostook County tourism developer with the Northern Maine Development Commission.
The county, which stretches around the northeastern corner of Maine and is home to nearly half of the state’s points of entry with Canada, is hoping it can find a new language to reassure Canadian neighbours – some of them family relations and fellow church members, others long-time customers – and keep them coming to the U.S.
For months, rhetoric from the White House has kept large numbers of those travellers away (then-prime-minister Justin Trudeau, too, specifically urged Canadians not to vacation in Maine). Local businesses that depended on customers from neighbouring New Brunswick have seen sales fall by a quarter, with April and May land crossings into Maine down nearly a third from last year. Canadian students at a local university switched to online courses rather than risk intense border scrutiny.
Opinion: I’m staying in Canada. But I feel for the people trying to lure us back to the U.S.
The quest to find a more welcoming vocabulary has, however, thrust this part of Maine into a confrontation with the limitations of language.
What turn of phrase, after all, can soothe the economic pain of businesses struggling to cope with punishing new tariffs or, at the very least, dramatic new uncertainty? What can anyone in Maine say that will prove more convincing than the latest social-media post from the U.S. President? Can anyone find a way to speak louder than Donald Trump?
It’s worth trying, Mr. Pelkey said: “It is always good to talk out loud, and that makes it easier to work together.”
Finding the right words, however, has not proven easy.
“Other than, ’I’m sorry’ – I don’t know what else to say,” said county administrator Ryan Pelletier. “We’re kind of paralyzed by what’s happening.”
“I could beg. That’s about it. ’Please,’ I guess,” said Joe Marino, the meat manager of Andy’s IGA in Houlton, Me., a family-owned grocery store that once counted on Canadians for 30 per cent of its business. Today, that has shrunk to 7 or 8 per cent, he says.
“The state of Maine should be scratching and clawing to try and get as many Canadians across the border as they can,” Mr. Marino said.
Yet he struggles to think how that can be done. Not only have tensions with the U.S. kept some from Canada away, but the exchange rate has made cross-border shopping less attractive, while countertariffs have made it potentially costly for Canadians to bring goods back home.
Any future improvement in fortunes will, Mr. Marino believes, “boil down to money – is it worth your while to deal with the border crossing?”
As a state, Maine has sought to ensure it is, at the very least, not making the situation worse. Last month, Democratic Governor Janet Mills travelled to New Brunswick to tout a “centuries-old friendship” that, she said, “remains strong.” While in the province, she heard from Canadians, including a board member for Saint John Pride, that many no longer feel safe in the U.S.
Some in Maine have decided it’s best to say nothing at all.
“I don’t want my employees engaging with my Canadian customers about some of the negativity or the rhetoric around, say, the North American free-trade agreement,” said Scott Wardwell, director of Presque Isle International Airport.
“I mean, this whole thing isn’t going to be decided between an airport employee and a passenger flying out. It just isn’t. So there really isn’t any value in entering into that debate.”
The Presque Isle airport has been an important nexus for Canadians. Stephen Harper touched down here in 2007 when he arrived to attend a pond hockey tournament in nearby Plaster Rock, N.B. The airport’s aviation fuel comes from the Irving refinery in Saint John. Corporate jets for Irving and McCain use its facilities.
“You can just imagine if I have an employee start yakking about the 51st state or, ‘We don’t really need Canadians’ and so on – that’s not going to send the right message to my customers,” Mr. Wardwell said.
So far, that strategy seems to have proven effective. The airport tracks licence plates in its overnight parking facilities and the percentage of Canadians vehicles has remained constant, at roughly 40 per cent. Many, however, come not to stay in the U.S. but to board a JetBlue flight through Boston to the Caribbean.
Outside of the airport, the decline in Canadian traffic is noticeable. On a recent Saturday afternoon in Presque Isle, only one out-of-state plate was visible on Main Street. It was from Montana.
Nearly 100 kilometres up the border, Canadian traffic is down by 40 per cent at Bob’s Service Center, which looks out on the bridge crossing the Saint John River into Madawaska, Me.
Tim Lausier, who co-owns the gas station and corner store with his sister, has deep personal connections with Canada, where he was born and still regularly attends hockey games.
In the past few months, though, travel to New Brunswick has meant getting an earful. Employees of one plastic manufacturer stopped coming to his service centre after tariffs hit their business.
Mr. Lausier doubts he will ever see all of his previous customers again, and he wonders what good any words on a sign can do at a time like this.
“They’re not coming,” he said. “They’re not going to see those signs.”