Years ago, before they were married, homeowners Cynthia and Edwin hiked across Isle au Haut in Maine. The granite island is accessible only by ferry from the working harbor of Stonington, a seaside town on Deer Isle. On a more recent visit, the couple discovered that 80 acres were up for sale: an expanse of ferns and moss, glacial boulders, sheer cliffs, and sweeping Atlantic views.

The parcel had been lingering on the market when the couple decided to purchase it in 2018. “It’s mostly wooded,” Cynthia says. Much of Isle au Haut is protected as part of Acadia National Park, and the land Cynthia and Edwin bought, like much of the island, is “full of spruce, spruce, and more spruce,” she says, “with a little smattering of maple and birch, and granite everywhere.”

The couple set their sights on creating a four-season retreat on the parcel, a remote escape from their home base. An online search led them to Maine architect Eric Reinholdt of 30x40 Design Workshop, whose clean-lined work resonated immediately. They were drawn to his Scandinavian-meets-Maine fishing vernacular, the couple explained. It was restrained, purposeful, nature-focused.

Soon after Cynthia and Edwin met Reinholdt, they visited the site together, testing different perches and vantage points in search of the ideal placement for a home. “Part of the challenge initially was figuring out what to do with the 80 acres,” Reinholdt says. “Every site had an amazing aspect. How do you choose a place to build? That was a real challenge.” But one location stood out. Cynthia remembers getting “the feeling” at a granite outcrop overlooking the ocean, a moment that made her stop short. "It feels like the house wants to be here," she says.

Design planning began in earnest in 2020 and concluded five years later, a process all parties agree was lengthened and intensified by the pandemic, as well as by the construction and transportation limitations of building on a remote Maine island accessible only by boat. In fact, logistics became a primary constraint shaping Reinholdt’s design approach. All materials had to be transported by mail boat from Stonington, so every decision was informed by what could realistically be transported, handled, and assembled by a small crew, many of whom spent their days lobster fishing.

On a site overlooking the Atlantic, Reinholdt envisioned a series of small, shed-roofed cabins totaling 1,600 square feet, unified by a network of decking. Despite the separation, The Outpost, as it’s known, “still reads as architecture,” Reinholdt says, rather than a collection of parts. A consistent material palette and repeated shed-roof forms allow the composition to read as a single home. Each volume is clad in locally sourced vertical Eastern white cedar and capped with painted aluminum roofs, selected for their durability and quiet restraint.

You arrive via a meandering, natural drive before encountering the cabin, a “clipped, modern form,” as Reinholdt describes it. The first volume you come to is a workshop, on the north side of the site. Inside, walls lined with pegboard systems house Edwin’s woodworking tools, while a compact loft above serves as storage, an office, or space for yoga. Windows look out to the water, and an outdoor shower is tucked along the east exterior.

A slatted overhang frames the front door to the main house; at dusk, the slats glow as interior light filters through. Inside, the compact entry is intentionally compressed before opening dramatically into the main living area, an open kitchen and living space with expansive views of the ocean and surrounding forest. “You come into the entry, and then the view explodes in front of you,” Reinholdt says. The sequence is deliberate: darker, more sheltered zones heighten the experience of arrival, setting up moments of compression and release as the home unfolds into light-filled living spaces.

A bench doubles as a safety element, creating a guard from a drop-off along part of the decking.

The kitchen features slatted wall systems with movable hooks by Harpool Design, while the cabinetry, like the floors, is crafted from white oak. By using the same natural materials throughout the home, Cynthia and Edwin can easily swap the metal storage shelves and hooks to refresh the aesthetic over time. “It’s changeable,” Reinholdt says, “intended to suit their needs as they evolve.” Soapstone countertops, one of the few imported materials in the house, ground the space with a sense of weight and permanence.

Outside, decks extend the living spaces into the surrounding landscape, functioning as what Reinholdt describes as “transition elements.” One eight-foot-wide deck sits close to grade, creating a near-seamless connection between house and land. Rather than lining a steep drop-off with railings, Reinholdt introduced a built-in bench, an architectural solution that feels both natural and intentional. “It’s a great place to have a cup of coffee,” he adds.

Part of the project’s ambition, Reinholdt explains, was giving guests of the house places to connect, but then retreat. One guest might read quietly on the screened porch while another withdraws to the bedroom. But each space is meant to feel protected and secluded. Each space also offers “a different view, a different experience.” Reinholdt affirms. “That diversity of experience is what I was after.” By stretching the plan out and using it in strategic ways, he explains, “you can create a very complex set of experiences from a small footprint.”

Related Reading:

Budget Breakdown: Their $464K Cabin Can Produce Way More Energy Than It Consumes

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Project Credits:

Architect of Record: Eric Reinholdt, 30x40 Design Workshop / @30by40

General Contractor: Homeowner

Structural Engineer: Albert Putnam Associates

Woodworking and Cabinetry: Reynolds Custom Woodworks

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