The calm will start as soon as we drive our car onto the ferry. We'll carefully (one year ally dented the car next to us when she opened her door and we had to negotiate a settlement--fortunately the dented were already drugged with sea air and told us to forget it) make our way up to the top floor, where the wind will give us a little chill, wait for the whistle to blow and breathe, as if we'd been holding our breath all year until this moment. We're on our way to the place that gets us through the coldest, dreariest, remind-me-why-we-live-in-new-england-again location that each of us would marry if it were a person. Ah, Martha, will you spend your life with me?
I think traditions ground people, and so my children have been going to the same place every summer, for their whole lives, and until last year, the same house. We are not "islanders," because to be an islander you have to be born on the island. But we feel like islanders. We love the place like it was part of us, an arm, a leg. Take it away and we would be crippled. My husband and I fell hard for this place when we were dating and I booked a romantic long weekend in Edgartown, where we stayed in the best room at the top of the Edgartown Inn. We returned for several years before the mutual friend who introducted us to each other made another life changing introduction--to the opposite end of the island--Chilmark. Remarkably untouched, all sprawling farm land and beautiful beaches.
Lucy Vincent is the "For Childmark Residents Only" beach. Slap the sticker on your car and your in, otherwise, you're out. We're talking body surfing waves and views good enough to stop your heart for a full second or two. Especially if you walk to the far end, an official nude beach, where you get a whole other kind of view. No summer is complete without seeing Alan Dershowitz sporting his sun hat and no pants. The whole beach is backed by oversized cliffs, with tiny piping plovers darting in and out of holes they've created. A wooden walkway from a dirt road parking lot brings you to the beach. At the end of the walkway, people kick off their shoes and leave them. We love this pile of sneakers and sandals lining the entrance. I interpret it as a way to leave the world behind. A short walk from the entrance is a pond, calm and warm, for babies and young kids who can't brave the waves. Beyond the pond are some houses, but the views are mostly of gentle sea grass and horses and sheep. I have been to dozens of beaches in my life, but Miss Lucy V. wins the Miss World Contest for me.
For a bunch of years we shared houses with my cousin and her family. Then we found a small cottage that was perfect, in the part of Chilmark called Menemsha, a small fishing village, made famous because of its starring role in the movie Jaws. Our little house was in a perfect location, near Menemsha beach, Chilmark's town beach-- gentle surf, a jetty, boat docks, and hours of kid free relaxation, the result of a perfect little crabbing cove. Menemsha Beach is known for its sunsets and proximity to a famous little clamshack called The Bite. For those of you who worship in the house of The Fried, this place is your temple. The Texaco station, one of the only gas stations up island supplies the fishing supplies and cow licks and the Menemsha Market, owned by Kevin and Liz, who my family has come to love for everything else. We spend literally hunreds of dollars here every summer, and i swear half of it is on Fire Balls and Bazooka bubble Gum. Going down to Kevin's store for toilet paper or mustard was the first bit of independence my kids ever experienced. And with a charge account in place, they they were feeling it.
Last year we rented a new house. While I'd seen photos of it online, I wasn't exactly sure where it was located and knew the kind of lawsuit my kids would level against me if it didn't turn out to be a nice place, within walking distance to all "their" places. It turned out to be smack on the beach, amazing views, beautiful big great room, in short even better than our other house.
The Vineyard is the star of so many of the best parts of my life. July would feel as alien as a summer snowstorm without Midnight Farm or Noches, the rocking chairs on the porch of The Chilmark Store, a fried scallop at The Bite, seventeen trips to Pandora's, the nagging to go to the carousel and arcade, movies in Oak Bluffs, the 4rth of July parade, the farmer's market and flea, Boggle, a cocktail, ice cream at the Galley, breakfast at the Artcliff or Aquinnah, a celebrity sighting or two, and the warmth and heat of the beach.
There is a heaven. There definitely is a heaven. I know it well. I've spent the last 22 summers there.
No comments:
Post a Comment