Musings on a Martha's Vineyard Summer

A leading black scholar reflects on an idyllic season on the island.


(The Root) -- Alas, summer is basically over. We all know it cannot last forever. That break from the routines of work is so important. If you are at all like me, then some quantity time in the sun, without a care for schedules or the time of day, is important to restoring a sense of balance in life.

For many folks, however, it is already the season to again punch the time clock. School for many is back in session. People's tans have started to fade. For too many of us, I suspect, that wonderful lightness and freedom of spirit so characteristic of July and early August is yielding to the worrisome demands of an impending busy fall season. Sadly, Labor Day will be behind us before we know it.

Yet, I am smiling as I write this piece. It has been a wonderful summer for me. I am very satisfied. I do hope you can say the same.

Spending four weeks on Martha's Vineyard is a magical stretch of time. I biked more than 300 miles. I've eaten an embarrassing number of wok-fired lobsters and downed my fair share of fried scallops and fish and chips. I've had probably 10 blue fishes hooked on my fishing line and reeled in five of them, including one 18-pounder that put up an heroic fight before Captain Buddy van der Hoop helped pull it aboard the boat and filleted him for dinner.

I've kayaked across Lagoon Pond early in the morning and done a walk near the Ink Well as the Polar Bears -- a group of mostly African-American women who exercise and engage in spiritual uplift -- did their morning rituals. And every night, I've enjoyed being completely surrounded by refreshing ocean air, gin martini in hand, as the sun sets over the water. Looking back on all this, it is with a measure of satisfaction that I prepare to say goodbye to summer 2012. But before letting go, I will revel a few days longer in the wonders of Martha's Vineyard.

How does one describe what is so special about the Vineyard? In reminiscing with my wife about the Vineyard, it is a true wonder that we even returned after our first visit back in 2000. We left Boston on a rainy Friday afternoon headed for Woods Hole and the Steamship Authority ferry to the island. The drive was an excruciatingly painful four hours long. The trip to Bourne Bridge proved particularly nightmarish, with bumper-to-bumper traffic grinding to a halt a full five miles before reaching the bridge itself.

The friend who had exhorted -- indeed badgered -- us to come check out the Vineyard had not made it clear that we would need a reservation on the ferry in order to get a car onto the island. As a result, we ended up parking at Woods Hole once we learned the ferry had been fully reserved for months in advance, slogging our luggage through the rain to take a bus back to the ferry and eventually catching one of the many share-ride taxis to our hotel in Edgartown once we got to Oak Bluffs (our dear friend would not come and pick us up for the ride into Edgartown).

These privations notwithstanding, that first trip involved a number of small but pleasurable experiences. We enjoyed strolling through Edgartown and shopping. There are few things as relaxing as sitting in the rocking chairs on the Harbor View Hotel wrap-around porch, with its magnificent flower garden, as we watched the ships head in and out of Edgartown Harbor. There is something simultaneously human-scale and yet majestic about the Lighthouse in Aquinnah. And there is something very sweet and reassuring about all the moms, dads and kids pedaling along the many bike paths stretching around the island.

All of this was just enough that after those first two days, we got over the miserable note on which the visit started -- the rain, aging buses and the cramped ferry ride. Perhaps even more so, we got over the stereotype of the vineyard as a stuffy, status-climbing closed society, and we have been coming back for more than a decade ever since.

To be sure, we learned many of the tricks to making a vineyard vacation "work." We now know the cycles of life in the parts of the island we love best. So, we keep that ferry schedule handy now and never attempt to drive through Five Corners when the ferry comes in or, God forbid, when a ferry arrival coincides with the raising of the Lagoon Pond drawbridge. We know to get to Linda Jean's or to the Black Dog Cafe before 8:30 a.m. if we really can't abide a bit of a wait for breakfast. And we know that dinner reservations at State Road, Sweet Life or the Outermost Inn are best made long in advance. All of these careful plans are not necessary, of course, if you are contented eating a lobster bake, fried fish or barbecue at home with friends.