Those who travel back and forth from an island to the mainland frequently often find themselves repeatedly experiencing “back-to-the-future” moments when you cannot remember which planet you are on.
You might be driving down a country road on the mainland perhaps listening to a radio program or lost in thought about some how to deal with an awkward family issue when a car approaches and you absent-mindedly give them the two-finger island wave from your hand on the steering wheel-remembering that you reserve the four finger wave for those you know well or the five finger wave for those you are really glad to see. New arrivals give everyone the five-finger wave, but this grows tiresome after a short while, so you begin to preserve your energy. But if you are on the mainland and distracted, you may have waved at a perfect stranger while you imagined you were still on island, the effect of which is that you get looks that range from mild consternation to acute discomfort.
Alternatively, when you first get back to island, your mind might be temporarily preoccupied with some important question-like did the mink get into the house while you were away or did the LP gas bottle get changed-and you fail to return the first island wave. Of course, you then feel like you are just another jerk from the mainland, (which you are). But it leaves you wondering if this better or worse than feeling like you might be arrested by the thought police for waving at strangers?
The point is that an island requires an intense presence of mind. It is important not mistake which side of the bay you are on. Be Here Now, say the yogi.
Traveling to the mainland or back to an island on the ferry, whether by foot or vehicle, requires an intense knowledge. First about the weather. The most important variable here is wind. Wind drives waves, so it is helpful to get the marine weather report before you make your final plans. Especially note the average wave height if you are subject to any mal due mere symptoms, lest you end up on the afterdeck, and in the immortal phrase of one ferry attendant, start barking at the buoys (to leeward, please). Two to four foot waves are most common during most ferry runs for most of the year except for the first run of the day on a summer morning when it might still be flat calm. But then you need to have a towel or some absorbent article of clothing to enjoy the outdoor weather as the sun rises, but before the heavy island condensation has burned off. Three to five foot waves, which become more and more common during the fall and winter (there is no such thing as spring on an island), are a whole different matter. There will be considerably more people joining you on the leeward rail. Six to nine, you better have a very good reason for travelling or a very strong constitution. Ignorance also helps.
Speaking of knowing which side of the bay you are on-as well as which side of the boat you are on-you also need to have a great deal of local knowledge about what information specialists call the meta-data of an island ferry schedule. You might think that the time posted on the printed schedule or on a ferry company website is the most important time to remember. But you would be wrong. You must know when you need to line up to get a seat-or if you are driving, god forbid, when your vehicle needs to be in line. Lining up late by a minute or two is a painful learning experience. You will either need to stand up for an hour or more because you walked on, which is not so bad unless you really wanted to finish that romance novel or do a crossword puzzle, but if you have to drive to an appointment, you might need to cancel and start the whole process over at the beginning. Do not pass go.
A few years ago, a particularly brilliant woman on Vinalhaven thought about all the time wasted by islanders lining up as early as 4 a.m. for the Vinalhaven ferry and had an idea. Being of a practical mind, she proposed a time-saving system of handing out “line numbers” for particular boats that would be available a day ahead of time to eliminate the stress and uncertainty of the line up. If the ferry office ran out of line numbers for a particular boat, you could get a stand-by number, which would be like flying stand-by. Sometimes it would work, if someone did not show up; sometimes you would not get on the boat, but you would have some idea of your chances from the number of stand-by numbers and where you were in the cue. The system whet into effect and everything went swimmingly for a few years.
From a strict economist’s point of view, perhaps each of us should have paid something for our line number (your time not wasted is certainly worth something), but we did not “go there.” And since we are human and the stand-by number is free, well, you can probably guess how the system degraded over time. If you were simply considering the remote possibility of going off island, why not pop by the ticket booth and get a line number? Without even listening to the weather forecast, or making too detailed an expedition plan, you would be covered.
Now, a line number is still a line number. Totally great. But a stand by number might be as good as a line number-or it might not-but probably is-unless it is sunny and calm-in which case it is not-but if the sea is beginning to lump up outside the harbor, you might still be a pretty good bet to go-unless the soccer team made the tournament-or you forgot it is the first of the month and renters are leaving. Ah, local knowledge! There’s never enough.
So better load up and get down there in line and see what happens, because you still have no idea if you are coming or going.
Philip Conkling is the president of the Island Institute.