It was paradise. Serene, contem plative, energizing and varied, my regular early morning round-trip walks from South Beach to Chappy traversed the narrow length of Norton Point, swept around Wasque, and lighted on East Beach to face the morning sun at the spot where Cape Pogue Light can just be seen on clear days. Almost eight miles and two hours of unspoiled nature — soft sand, playful surf, warm sun, azure sky, endless sea, lonely dunes and active shore birds — before breakfast was, in short, always the perfect start to a beautiful Vineyard day.

The last time I walked to Chappy was April 8, 2007. It was my birthday, a momentous one that ended in a zero. Early April still came with a winter chill. The forecast was for gray, raw weather. Yet, when I awoke at 6 a.m., the sky was clear, the sun visibly rising. I was not expecting a beautiful morning. What a delightful surprise! I donned my winter jacket, grabbed my new iPod — a birthday gift from my sons already loaded with my music — and headed to South Beach for the first walk to Chappy of the year.

Despite the cold breeze, the journey was uplifting. On the way to Chappy, I listened to Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony and felt fate knocking on the door (as Beethoven’s famous opening four notes and theme are often called). Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony accompanied my return, with its life-affirming Ode to Joy reinforcing the timeless natural coastline. I was ready for my new decade!

Just 16 days later, it came — the break. A storm broke through Norton Point. Katama Bay was joined with the ocean. I followed closely the reports on the growing break and if something should be done about it. I learned that breaks had come many times before; some lasted only a day, some for decades. This time, Chappy had been connected to Katama via Norton Point for over 60 years but for me the question was how long would I find my paradise lost?

The break persisted. That summer, I relied upon walks along South Beach and out Norton Point up to the break as well as kayaking, truly outstanding enjoyment of the Vineyard’s wonderful ponds, bays and harbors. Still, I missed the walks to Chappy. Maybe it was the fragility of Norton Point or the roiling waters of Wasque or the warmth of facing the early morning sun on East Beach with my feet in the gentle surf. Or maybe it was the magic of Chappy.

August was when I refound paradise. I put in my kayak on the west side of Katama Bay, kayaked past the break, beached it on the Chappy side, and walked the remainder of Norton Point, around Wasque and up to East Beach! The walk was shorter but for half the adventure I added the dimension of being on the water, with long-necked cormorants skimming the surface, cacophonous lesser terns diving for fish, graceful hawks soaring overhead, and bold seagulls fishing for crabs. The shore still revealed skittish orange-beaked oystercatchers, scampering sandpipers, occasional ducks and blackbirds, and piping plover nests. Wasque and East Beach still held their special charms. It was paradise regained.

waves
Skip Bettencourt

Yet the shoreline is inconstant. The rough seas of non-hurricane Earl overwhelmed what little remained of the 100-yard-wide strand of Wasque beach between Swan Pond and the Atlantic. The break had produced an east-to-west current along Norton Point and Wasque, carving a channel along the beach. As a result, the beach had eroded down to a mere 10 yards before Earl. Now, Swan Pond was open to the Atlantic, a course followed by past breaks.

Today, a few days after Earl, I was able to wade across the Swan Pond opening. But swan pond’s cyclical demise is imminent; the beach to Chappy will be interrupted once again. I will have to wait for Norton Point to naturally reclaim its place along the south shore. It may not be in my lifetime. Meanwhile, I will search for paradise elsewhere, perhaps with my new little sunfish sailboat, Ode to Joy.

 

Rich Alpert is a seasonal resident of Edgartown.