Stalking the Wild Cranberry in Nantucket

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I haven't mentioned yet that prices in Nantucket tend to be 25 to 75% higher than in the continental U.S., since everything has to be ferried in.   Real estate prices, however, have little in common with reality as we know it; especially along the coastline, where even small dwellings command astronomical figures.
Almost every seaside house has some nickname or slogan out front, such as "Bait Bucket" or "Haverty's Haven", as well as the year it was built (sometimes going back a century).  Others just proclaim the family name.  With varying amusement we took note of each sign as we drove past, but were particularly surprised to see this one.
There was still lots to see, and if Nantucket is known for anything besides whales and ghosts, it might possibly be cranberries. This bittersweet fruit is grown and harvested in watery bogs dedicated to that purpose, and as some of us were begging to see a big bog, we all piled into the Durango and headed for the moors.
There are no traffic lights in Nantucket.  Anywhere.  With very few vehicles on the road, however, it was not a big issue.  Some of the streets we encountered on this journey were so narrow it seemed as if they hadn't planned for two cars meeting on the same road.


Along our drive we passed a sparcely wooded area that looked very much like an African plain, with gnarled trees.  You would almost expect to see zebra and giraffe roaming around.
This painting by New England artist Kerstin Zettmar, "Nantucket Trees", recalls the scene pretty well.
In addition to cranberry bogs, we hoped to locate a beach and get up close and personal with a lighthouse.  We followed one road that looked like it might deliver one or the other, and it led us past some government buildings, an armory depot and -- to the kids' delight -- a roller hockey rink.  Back home the boys are rarely seen without wheels attached to their feet, so even though their skates were hundreds of miles away, it was still a welcome sight and they couldn't resist having pretend practice; what you might legitimately call air hockey.  At this point no one had to ask the kids if they were enjoying their stay.
Chris (playing goalie for a change) and Adam
Sure wasn't expecting that.  Should we go introduce ourselves and borrow a cup of champagne?  My imagination spun a fantasy involving a rich uncle who would bequeath an exorbitant amount appropriate for a long-lost nephew.  However, shunning fame and fortune as I do, I took a photo and moved on.
We soon found this lighthouse which we'd been seeing from miles away, and which you could walk right up to.  The Sankaty lighthouse, built in 1850, stands 75 feet tall on a 90-foot high bluff overlooking the sea and a golf course.
At another beach -- on an even cooler day -- we observed fishermen and women trying their luck.   At this beach, home to the Great Point lighthouse (below), you could drive on the sand providing you had a special permit sticker on your sport utility vehicle and you let the air out of your tires.  An air station is situated at the entrance where the do-it-yourself air is free.  They assume you have a tire gauge and that you know what you're doing.  We managed to figure it out.
45 pounds of air pressure in our tires were deflated down to 15, which made for some squishy driving on pavement.  On sand the driving could be likened to maneuvering on ice and snow; kind of loose and swervy and requiring diligence.  As we drove along the almost empty beach we could see seals diving in the water, and sea birds of several kinds curiously flying overhead.  The whole tire thing seemed to me to be a lot of work just to see a beach, but it was worth doing once.
We spent time at a couple of beaches during our stay.  The weather was a little too cool for swimming, but it was pleasant watching the ferries come and go and seeing Adam come up with his name in shells.
And, yes, we found us a bog. Cranberries weren't yet in season so all we saw was marshland, but as this postcard photo suggests, a bog in full bloom is a bright crimson sight to behold.
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