Most of this blogs followers know that I live on west Island in Fairhaven, MA. Not everyone my realize what "Island Life" is like. For most of life I have thought that life here was basically the same as most other places, with a lot of extras thrown in of course. Most of my youth was spent exploring and building forts in the 600 or so acres of woods on the island. The rest was probably spent on the beaches or in the water. We used to make rafts out of pallets and foam. Not the safest mode of sea travel, but when your young you tend to throw caution to the wind, or waves.
Recently though I think I have redefined "Island Life". I never considered living here to be similar to some Caribbean island, or even to the better know Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket islands. After last year I began to rethink that idea. There is some similarity to a Caribbean island, if you want it to be. We can spend lazy days down at Shirley and Herbie's beach. There seems to be a mythical concoction called a "Yellow Bird", but I have yet to taste such an elixir. Maybe I was actually afraid of the stories I have heard that the effects of pitchers of the drink render onto otherwise quiet individuals. I have passed that fear now and am ready for my indoctrination to the yellow haze.
After an afternoon at the beach I like to head to the bridge, yes we have one, where if tide allows I can do some fishing. I only caught 2 fish last year but hanging at the bridge is a great spot to watch the sunsets, watch everybody come and go on the island and drink some beer. What more can you want?
One day a short while ago we were sitting on a sea wall on the west side of the island and headed to the forested east side to check out the infamous Paint Ball Fort. The area had become somewhat overgrown and we decided to make a sight line for the up and coming marksman (I'm not sure if markswoman is a word) Mackenzie Martin who at 12 years old is competing and surpassing 18 year olds.
After checking out the unidentified (probably a raccoon or opossum) skull hanging on a branch at the location we decided to head to the middle of the island and check out what may be an Indian grave or maybe just a spot designated as the geographical center of the island. We followed the path to a southerly portion of the forest and walked back by Fir St.
A new phenomenon is the quiet hum of golf carts. The damn things are everywhere! I have stopped complaining and have starting looking on craigslist for the non-existent cheap golf cart. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
On any given summer weekend you can walk around and spot two dozen parties, and is your good at it you just may get invited in. The campfires a dead giveaway. Just start north and head into the south wind searching for the smell of wood burning. I have often said that the Fourth of July here is like downtown Baghdad during the Gulf War. Fireworks can be seen in a 360 degree view from the Causeway. Mattaposett, New Bedford, Dartmouth and a bazillion different backyard displays can be seen. The smell of gunpowder hangs so heavy in the air all over town it actually causes a yellow glow from the grocery store parking lot lights in the center of Fairhaven. I pack a 5 liter box of wine (Mountain Burgundy!) and cups and keep moving around as long as I can. A stop at the Pilat's party where they have a band is mandatory.
People down here are friendly and love to talk. I always seem to fit "How long have you lived here?" into every conversation with new friends. Those who live on Sconticut Neck,including Islanders, are known as Neckers. The amount of time you have been a "Necker" is like a social order. Lying is encouraged. Remembering events and places or people long gone adds a ton of points.
I have vowed to enjoy Island Life more this year, after all, it is OUR island!
Recently though I think I have redefined "Island Life". I never considered living here to be similar to some Caribbean island, or even to the better know Martha's Vineyard and Nantucket islands. After last year I began to rethink that idea. There is some similarity to a Caribbean island, if you want it to be. We can spend lazy days down at Shirley and Herbie's beach. There seems to be a mythical concoction called a "Yellow Bird", but I have yet to taste such an elixir. Maybe I was actually afraid of the stories I have heard that the effects of pitchers of the drink render onto otherwise quiet individuals. I have passed that fear now and am ready for my indoctrination to the yellow haze.
After an afternoon at the beach I like to head to the bridge, yes we have one, where if tide allows I can do some fishing. I only caught 2 fish last year but hanging at the bridge is a great spot to watch the sunsets, watch everybody come and go on the island and drink some beer. What more can you want?
One day a short while ago we were sitting on a sea wall on the west side of the island and headed to the forested east side to check out the infamous Paint Ball Fort. The area had become somewhat overgrown and we decided to make a sight line for the up and coming marksman (I'm not sure if markswoman is a word) Mackenzie Martin who at 12 years old is competing and surpassing 18 year olds.
After checking out the unidentified (probably a raccoon or opossum) skull hanging on a branch at the location we decided to head to the middle of the island and check out what may be an Indian grave or maybe just a spot designated as the geographical center of the island. We followed the path to a southerly portion of the forest and walked back by Fir St.
A new phenomenon is the quiet hum of golf carts. The damn things are everywhere! I have stopped complaining and have starting looking on craigslist for the non-existent cheap golf cart. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
On any given summer weekend you can walk around and spot two dozen parties, and is your good at it you just may get invited in. The campfires a dead giveaway. Just start north and head into the south wind searching for the smell of wood burning. I have often said that the Fourth of July here is like downtown Baghdad during the Gulf War. Fireworks can be seen in a 360 degree view from the Causeway. Mattaposett, New Bedford, Dartmouth and a bazillion different backyard displays can be seen. The smell of gunpowder hangs so heavy in the air all over town it actually causes a yellow glow from the grocery store parking lot lights in the center of Fairhaven. I pack a 5 liter box of wine (Mountain Burgundy!) and cups and keep moving around as long as I can. A stop at the Pilat's party where they have a band is mandatory.
People down here are friendly and love to talk. I always seem to fit "How long have you lived here?" into every conversation with new friends. Those who live on Sconticut Neck,including Islanders, are known as Neckers. The amount of time you have been a "Necker" is like a social order. Lying is encouraged. Remembering events and places or people long gone adds a ton of points.
I have vowed to enjoy Island Life more this year, after all, it is OUR island!
1 comment:
I love Island life!! The ocean is awesome! Hey... that reminds me.... have you seen Ebb and Flo?
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