Martha’s Vineyard

Continuing with the misnamed regions, Martha’s Vineyard is more of an island than a vineyard, and it never belonged to anyone named Martha. What was that guy Bartholomew Gosnold thinking in 1602 when he named the island?

Happy thoughts, most probably. We were certainly thinking happy thoughts during our time on the Vineyard.

MPM: It began like an ordinary ferry ride…

That’s right, we took a ferry to the island and it was great. It was about a 45-minute journey.

We pulled up right at the house of our awesome host, Anne DeBettencourt.

She is the mother of Laura Irby (who you may remember from such posts as: Indianapolis, IN) and she had insisted that I visit her on Martha’s Vineyard when I made my way up there. “Sure,” I said. So we set a day aside for some much needed R & R on the Vineyard.

There are several businesses operating out of her home, such as bike and car rentals. For years she lived off the incoming ferry traffic, helping tourists find their way around the island, and we reaped the benefits of her experience. She pulled out the map of the island and gave us a recommended course, then told us we could borrow her Jeep.

What?? Really?? Um, okay.

Our plan was to drive over to the west side of the island to watch the sunset, reputed to be extraordinarily beautiful. We also saw plenty of other beautiful sights on the way there.

“So… you didn’t make it in time for the sunset eh?” asks Attractive Girl knowingly. “The sunset seems to be already happening in that picture.”

Well, we were close. There was still some light when we reached the coast.

But then it took a while to find parking. Evidently the population of the island roughly sextuples over the summer, not even counting the tourists, so it was a rather occupied area. But here, for your enjoyment, are some of the photos we managed to get.