Six-Six-Six

 
 
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L to R

Trireme, Agave, Peitho, Tyche, Halia, Menestho

(If the names are unfamiliar, I suggest pulling down your copy of Hesiod’s Theogony. Most can be found there.)
 
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As in past years I have persuaded a group of very incautious swimmers to join me on an “adventure” as I like to call it. The one on November 16 was not the one we had all planned. We had planned to do “Dukes in a Day” or “The Full Bartholomew.” That is, swim at one beach in each of the seven towns in Dukes County MA. (Bartholomew Gosnold is the European widely credited with “discovering” both Martha’s Vineyard and the nearby Elizabeth Islands. The town of Gosnold comprises the Elizabeths and there are six towns on the Vineyard: Tisbury, Oak Bluffs, Edgartown, West Tisbury, Aquinnah, and Chilmark.)

This plan was thwarted by the premature arrival of a very handsome grandson and in postponing the trip we lost several swimmers and the chance to get to Gosnold. Ahab had put his trusty vessel up for the winter, Pasithoe was required to labor for others, and Dionysus was courting a maiden. This left only the six of us to attempt six beaches in six towns.

The forecast called for moderate temperatures and clearing skies late on the Islands, so we decided to give it a go. Considering the lateness of the season, and the modified nature of the adventure, I tried to reassure everyone that there was no challenge involved; people could swim as much or as little or not at all. I thought I would at least give it a try since I have been swimming in the ocean at least once in each of the last 68 months.

We assembled in the Boston suburbs and after a quick Starbucks run we set off. Some sprinkles on the ferry dock in Woods Hole did not dampen spirits and we all boarded the MV Martha’s Vineyard in a timely fashion (just). Trireme broke out some spirits of her devising and the passage was smooth.

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When we disembarked in Vineyard Haven (a village of the town of Tisbury) Tyche, Menestho and Halia went into the terminal to don wetsuits. Both the need for them and the appearance of those wearing them were met with discussion bordering on derision. We moved on anyway, noting Menestho’s desire to return and have a beer at the Black Dog. We think he was channeling Bill Clinton or something.

 

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First beach was just a few blocks away at Owen Park Beach. This is a tiny beach in the harbor, the site of the Harbor Master’s office, a playground, a dock, and lots of moorings. A surprising number of large and small vessels were still in the water. A local fisherman pulled up with his very unhappy girlfriend. He was gleeful in reporting the water temperature to be a refreshing 52 degrees Fahrenheit. He spared us the need to convert from Kelvin.

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All but Trireme (recovering from an injury incurred earlier in the year on the Vineyard) took the plunge. We had done it! We all agreed that even if we never got further, we could count ourselves brave adventurers. A quick towel off, some outerwear donned, and we were off.

 

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After a short drive east, we came to a beach known as The Inkwell in the town of Oak Bluffs. The signage thoughtfully reminded us that the lifeguards were off duty. This is a long stretch of beach facing East across Nantucket Sound. We bounded out of the van, into the water and back out again. 52 degrees was not felt to be an overestimate.

 

 

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The road from there leads with not much trouble right down to South Beach/Katama Beach in Edgartown. Along the way we saw a donkey and llamas. We scoffed at the notion we were the Katama llama ding-dongs and arrived at the shockingly modest parking lot. This south-facing beach is very beautiful, protected by dunes, and stretches for miles in either direction. While there is a larger parking lot at the west end of Atlantic Drive, the spaces here number about a dozen. 

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Katama brought us real surf and real sunshine. Made it feel like a beach day. The water was noticeably warmer, the sand felt warm underfoot (in the sunshine only) and the mood of the adventurers noticeably improved. 

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At this point I warned the Aquanuts that the fourth beach was reachable only with some difficulty. There would be few amenities along the way, and maybe none when we arrived. The sturdy band informed me they needed nothing in order to continue, and so we did. Peitho showed no interest in Menestho’s question about taking the Chappaquiddick ferry. We had our own problems and did not need a second troubled Democratic politician to complicate things.

The fourth beach was located in the town of West Tisbury. While there is a lot of south facing oceanfront in West Tis, most of it is inaccessible unless you are a plutocrat. The Trustees of Reservations has a large property at Long Pond, but the long access road is (consciously) poorly marked, subject to closure, and unpaved. The Trustees were running a program called the Duck Hunt and so the road was open. We thought it might really be a duck hunt, which gave some of us pause. It was instead a family-oriented crafts day. After navigating the rutted, sandy lane, backing up to let cars proceed past us, and wondering at the arrogance of “some people” we parked in the Trustees lot.

The long walk to the ocean was enhanced by the beauty of the marsh, the continued sunshine and by Trireme’s discovery of an ant. The beach itself was long and sandy. The surf was moderate and we all (?) succeeded in our task of a complete immersion. Some of the women think there is a separate set of rules for them, but then they always do. At around this point someone skipped a beach, but who’s counting. After the dip I repaired to the Trustees headquarters to use the facilities. Had a nice chat with the very fresh-faced staff who gave us some suggestions for the last two towns.

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Rather than take a long break at Long Pond, we pressed on out the sandy trail to the paved road and proceeded westward to the commercial center of West Tisbury. With a big enough handkerchief you could cover it all. Agave suggested we picnic in the parking lot of the Grange and so we did. This was as choice a setup as you could imagine. Picnic tables in the sun, waste baskets for the detritus, and an open W. Tisbury town hall adjacent with the best public restrooms of any municipality in several counties.

Trireme brought out the famous tuna sandwiches and the last of the special beverage. Halia cracked open the container of homemade brownies, and Peitho offered everyone a “Full Trayvon” - a box of Skittles and an Arizona Iced Tea.

As tempting as the warm sun and snappy banter was, we pressed on down State Road southwest toward Aquinnah, soon to be the Las Vegas of Dukes County. Shortly we were stopped by the State Police who informed us that the road was closed for an indeterminate period. The trooper directed us to a detour down another dirt byway that he promised would eventually lead to Beetlebung Corner. 

If you read that place name in a Stephen King story you would credit him with a dark imagination. In some parts of New England very little imagination is required. 

After a while, we reached Beetlebung and the sign for Aquinnah. I overshot the road we wanted to take to the beach and had to turn around at the entrance to the Wampanoag Reservation. A large sign announced a deer tagging station and I figured this had something to do with the road closure.

 
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Philbin Beach was found and we proceeded up the big dune on the landward side. Tyche suggested the long path to the left. Peitho scoffed and proceeded straight ahead. As warned, Peitho found the beach covered with large cobbles, which continued all the way into the water. There the cobbles were joined by some alarmingly large rocks both submerged and emergent. Tyche and Peitho gave it a try, but to no avail. Back up to the top of the dune, down the other path and along the beach until we found a smooth sandy patch. All in and all out safely, we towelled off and set out for the last beach of the day. We began to look closely at the sun and to discuss the time of sunset. Turns out it set at 4:22 p.m E.S.T. and we were just about going to make it.

 

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Some GPS work by Menestho got us to Menemsha Harbor in the town of Chilmark in good order and we faced the last challenge of the day. Good thing it was the last. Energy was beginning to flag and the water was as cold as it had been all day. Good feeling to have completed the challenge, but an even better feeling to finally put on warm dry clothes. We convinced a local to take our picture and we were off for Vineyard Haven and the Black Dog Tavern.

Now some of us had hinted to Menestho that Tisbury/VH is a “dry” town, but since the Dog is right next to the ferry staging area, and we were on track to catch an earlier sailing anyway, it made no difference to this jolly band of adventurers. As it happens, the Black Dog Tavern is something of a misnomer. You cannot get a drink at the bar because there is none. You could get beer or wine with a meal, but we had a ferry to catch. 

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After pausing to admire the Frost Moon over the harbor, we boarded the MV Island Home for the trip back to the mainland. This vessel did have a bar and we all partook of a round in celebration.

After a very pedestrian quality dinner at a Wood’s Hole restaurant I will not name here, and a quick view of the place (“the west and seaward end of the Eel Pond Bridge”) where Ahab was to have picked us up in September we drove north along Buzzard’s Bay. Our exhausted ride home featured choral singing to the sound track of “The Harder They Come”, (an Aquanut tradition by now) and Tyche’s very tasty falsetto accompaniment to Marc Cohn’s version of Smokey Robinson’s classic “Tears of a Clown.”