Traveling by Ferry
Because the best way to get there is...slowly
Have you ever traveled somewhere by ferry? Isn’t it just amazing? You step from land onto sea, and then you float to your destination on the current. Your view begins in a busy harbor, and so you lean out a bit and wave to the passing sailboats and motorboats, until you are left with nothing but miles and miles of blue. Just ocean meeting sky, and then, before you know it, land again. I’ve taken a ferry from the north shore of Long Island to Bridgeport, CT and from the Greek islands of Santorini to Paros, among others. I’ve taken the inter-island ferry to the Vineyard and the On Time ferry all 527 feet from Edgartown to Chappaquiddick. The way a ferry ferries you to and from a place is more than just transportation, it’s transporting.
I love ferries so freaking much.
My first ferry ride was definitely the one I took with my family from Hyannis to Nantucket in the summer of 1978. My aunt JaJa brought goldfish crackers to snack on, yes, but also to toss up and out into the air to seagulls who followed the ship. This was highly entertaining to 8-year-old me, my six-year-old brother, Greg, and to JoJo, our two-year-old cousin. Maggie the Airedale, one of my favorite dogs ever, patiently sat and watched us for the entire 2.5 hour trip. (Dogs are practically mandatory companions on a Nantucket ferry. The most posh wear Nantucket-themed bandanas or leashes.)
There were no fast ferries then; just the big slow boat from the Steamship Authority (and a slightly-less-slow hy-line or two). The slow ferry wasn’t even called “slow” in those days because there was really nothing faster to compare it to. One of my favorite features about that boat, which blew my 8-year-old mind and still thrills me today, is the way it ferries not just you and all of your people and pets to and fro, but it ferries your car along too.
Driving a car onto a ferry is super fun. One: you don’t have to unpack the car and move your luggage. Everything stays put! Two: you know it’s totally safe to do, driving a car onto a ramp and into the hull of a ship, but still. There is this moment of suspended disbelief as you pull your giant metal car up and onto the belly of this giant metal boat - will we make it? How does this boat stay afloat with all of us? - and park it between a Stop & Shop truck and a Range Rover, everyone opening their doors just a little to slide out sideways and head up to snag the good seats in the passenger areas.
Not everyone loves the ferry. My husband Brett tends to get a touch seasick depending on the wind and the waves. And my father has always preferred to fly from NYC’s Laguardia airport, which makes sense given that he lives in Manhattan. When my family rented a house on Union Street (excuse me: a haunted house on Union Street) in the summer of 1989, my dad worked in the city during the week and commuted to Nantucket for weekends.
What you need to know about the Nantucket airport is that it has its own weather system, and that system contains mostly fog. Many a day that summer did I drive out from (sunny) town to the airport, only to find fog thick as chowder and no planes landing or taking off. A guy in an orange vest began to recognize me and once shouted, as I pulled in front of the terminal, not to bother getting out of the car. “Did the plane get re-routed to Logan?” I asked through the rolled down window. “Should I try again in an hour or two?” His answer: “Nah, they just headed back to New York.”
I actually once wrote half of a young adult novel about a girl who falls in love with her brother’s best friend over the course of a Nantucket summer as they drive back and forth to the airport to try and retrieve her dad. It didn’t get very far. (Harharhar; distance joke.)
The ferry seems slower, maybe, but it’s actually just right. 98.2% of the time it’s a sure bet. It gets you where you need to be while giving you time to compose yourself, to turn into someone slightly new and different and better and ready for the next thing. It’s a special journey for sure. Metaphorically, I think I’ve been on that slow ferry my whole life, just waiting to get to the destination I always hoped I’d reach as a published author. If I squint, I can see the shoreline appearing, that strip of golden sand against the blue above and below. I’m almost there.
DAUGHTERS OF NANTUCKET comes out two weeks from today, so I’ll see you next on the other side. Check my website at juliegerstenblatt.com to find out where I’ll be docking on tour.
xo Julie
This is great! And makes me nostalgic for my Fire Island ferry days… thanks for sharing!