Nantucket, 9-18-11
I spent the weekend on Nantucket, my first trip to that island in at least forty years. Despite having planned meticulously, down to every detail - you've heard the expression, "Man plans, God laughs" - the plan to drive onto the 9:15 ferry was thwarted by a broken-down M/V Eagle (ACK!), necessitating my having to unload and reload all my gear - including guitar, sound system, mic stand, guitar stand, music stand, cameras - out of my car and onto the freight dolly for the fast ferry, Iyannough; then lugging the whole kit and caboodle three blocks (up hill) to my hotel room.
I had a little time on Sunday morning to grab a few quick impressions of the Island. Given the richness of all that I saw, I feel as though I have returned with a rather paltry offering.
Nantucket reminds me of Edgartown, but on steroids: more stores, smaller, narrower, and windier streets - more of them, and most of them one-way, and paved with cobblestones. The harbor is much bigger and more complex, with a maze of piers and marinas. And while Nantucket's downtown is jam-packed with every manner of shop - some identical to Edgartown's, for example, The Black Dog, and Summer Shades - the out-lying areas were rather desolate. And because Nantucket is one town, compared with the Vineyard's six, there is a stronger sense of community than there is on the Vineyard. Except for the pervasive feeling of claustrophobia that descended upon me the moment I stepped off the ferry and didn't let up until my tires hit the pavement in Hyannis, I enjoyed Nantucket - a fine town, a beautiful island (but how odd to overhear someone say to a friend, "See you around the island." I thought, "This isn't the island, The Vineyard is the island."). And it was inevitable, I suppose - while walking around the marina I ran into fellow Vineyarder, Edgartonian Karen Jardin, who had sailed over for the weekend with friends.
Read MoreI had a little time on Sunday morning to grab a few quick impressions of the Island. Given the richness of all that I saw, I feel as though I have returned with a rather paltry offering.
Nantucket reminds me of Edgartown, but on steroids: more stores, smaller, narrower, and windier streets - more of them, and most of them one-way, and paved with cobblestones. The harbor is much bigger and more complex, with a maze of piers and marinas. And while Nantucket's downtown is jam-packed with every manner of shop - some identical to Edgartown's, for example, The Black Dog, and Summer Shades - the out-lying areas were rather desolate. And because Nantucket is one town, compared with the Vineyard's six, there is a stronger sense of community than there is on the Vineyard. Except for the pervasive feeling of claustrophobia that descended upon me the moment I stepped off the ferry and didn't let up until my tires hit the pavement in Hyannis, I enjoyed Nantucket - a fine town, a beautiful island (but how odd to overhear someone say to a friend, "See you around the island." I thought, "This isn't the island, The Vineyard is the island."). And it was inevitable, I suppose - while walking around the marina I ran into fellow Vineyarder, Edgartonian Karen Jardin, who had sailed over for the weekend with friends.
Piping plovers, called so, apparently, because of the way they dart into and at the edge of the breaking wave, "piping' their beaks rapidly into and out of the sand, the water from the wave loosening the sand and making their search for small sand bugs all the easier.
These small sea birds are endangered on the Vineyard, a single piping plover's nest being known to close an entire beach for weeks, much to the dismay of the fishermen and beachgoers.
