Dull is certainly not the correct word, tranquil and peaceful would describe my island. Few cars traveled the paved roads that summer folk and natives alike lived along. Some of the roads were actually hidden, by large native shrubbery, and summer folk wouldn't immediately know there was more to the island than it first seemed. We were considered summer folk. Traveling on foot, as my brother and I did, we managed to find the unseen places hidden throughout the island. Sometimes we were welcomed, and met many islanders that looked forward to our visits. Other times we were shouted at, and told to leave the property that we happened to be crossing without permission. We could run like the wind in those days, not forgotten, but never to be seen again.
We discovered that if we stayed in the water, at least one foot in it, no one could touch us, we were legal. We traveled this way most of the time, sometimes leaving the waters edge and taking a shorter way back home. That would mean taking a chance though, on someone discovering us cutting across their property. To tell the truth, most people knew that a couple of kids were just out exploring, finding shells or crabs or other interesting things that washed up on the beach. My brother was much better than me at finding things. One day he found a five dollar bill lying on the beach. A five dollar bill wasn't often in our hands, no matter where it came from, but this was a miracle. He seemed to be born with radar that way, he could spy the best shell first, every time too.
We knew every inch of that beach, whether it was high tide or low, we knew how far we could go, before we had to swim. Over the years, things changed some, but not much. The places we visited are beginning to blur in the memory somewhat, but the essence is still here with me. Walking the beach at night was a ritual, of sorts. We all changed into the most mosquito proof clothes we had, and met at the fire of the night spot. Mostly it was in front of our cottage, and I have wondered over the years, if my father made sure we had driftwood, just so the fire would stay close by. It never bothered us where it was located, there was always someone with a guitar sitting by it. Our curfew was never disclosed, being that the island was completely safe, and we were close by, even after our parents went to bed. Nothing could happen there on the island, it was safe and we never questioned how dark it got, the light from the bay kept us in sight. Standing on the edge of the warm water at night, as it lapped at our feet creating shadows our parents could see from the cottage, was a typical sight. The water would get so warm at night, we loved to feel it wash over our feet and ankles, but we didn't do a lot of night swimming, never was sure why. I guess the ritual of getting the boat out of the water before dark, prompted the lack of night swimming, the unknown....beneath.
Looking down in the water beneath you during the day and seeing a crab or jelly fish floating by, was really different than feeling a jellyfish at night, brush against your thigh. Phosphorous floating on top of the water would glisten along the shoreline every night, like tiny lights to walk by, and wash ashore with every wave, laying a sparkling blanket behind each wave.
My favorite movie, Jaws, had not been made at that time, but the thoughts were still there, of the big fish coming in to shore at night, stealthily patrolling the edge. Teenagers could always arrive at any conclusion that came to mind, in the dark of night. The fact that in those days, my Dad had been known to catch sharks too, so we knew they were there....beneath and unseen, cruising the water below.
Ghost stories around the fire was a typical scene on the beach at night too. It was always especially ghostly when the fire smoked a lot. My brother had discovered the use of pine needles for this, which were in plentiful supply a few yards from the fire. We could actually scare ourselves to death on any given Saturday night. Once this was accomplished, we retreated in to the "Shack". The Shack, was a very large porch, that was set behind the house, and separated by 5 whole feet. It was our hangout, when we couldn't find anything on the beach or elsewhere, to do. Since becoming a parent myself, I have truly appreciated that my parents had the foresight to keep that place for us, as we began to head into our teen years.
We played cards any time, day or night and sometimes there were so many people, someone had to wait for someone to lose, to get a turn to play. I remember there always being a "Slinky" out there, to play with mindlessly, while waiting their turn or waiting to put the boat in the water. We waited on numerous things during those years. What a silly little thing, that entertained for so many hours, in so many hands.
Several of us had boats during that wonderful time of life. To this day, I wonder in awe, that my father was able to provide us with this movie-like atmosphere to grow up in. An island to roam and the Bay to float on for hours. The cottage was located in front of three sandbars. We could take all the boats and anchor on the third sandbar for hours, far enough so that prying eyes couldn't see, and we felt as though we has our own little island. We were within sight, close enough to know we were safe. Swimming and sunbathing, we were able to create our own island, by tying all the boats together. We were all within a couple of years in age of each other, and created friendships among us that tied us together like the boats. My brother and I were always together here and at home too. Many hours were spent together with the same friends for many years, we were like twins.
Well, I did visit Tangier Island, well into my thirties, and not the least bit happy with the hour and half boat ride there. The ride itself would have been nice, but the boat was so loud, I got one those whopping headaches from it. I'm sure that it had something to do with my view of the day too. While being picturesque and offering great food, it didn't compare with my island. Not that it's the fault of Tangier at all, it just didn't have the memories that I will always associate with the word island. Therefore I spent the entire day searching for something that was never there in the first place. My memories.
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