Years ago, when the winters were much colder, the harbor froze over before New Year’s Day and stayed that way for months. A gizmo called an ice-eater was often used to protect piers from ice damage. It was a little propeller mounted on a waterproof electric motor in a tube about the size of a five-gallon bucket. It was hung vertically under the pier so that it was just below the water surface at low tide. The propeller was aimed so that it drew water from below and discharged it out the top of the tube. The idea was to stir up the warmer or actually less frigid water from below to keep ice from forming under the pier. This was to prevent what’s called “jacking” of the pilings. Ice would freeze onto a piling in a large clump. The solid sheet of ice under the pier would rise up with the tide, get caught on the clump of ice and apply an upward pressure on the piling that gradually pulled it up out of the harbor bottom.
After weeks of tide cycles, the ends of unprotected piers would be ten feet above their original height. They resembled a ski jump. Some got jacked up so high that they would flop over. The only way to fix it was to disassemble the whole structure, pound the pilings individually back down and then put everything that hadn’t gotten splintered back together. There were always at least a dozen to rebuild in Edgartown harbor every spring. It was dependable work for the dock builders.
The ferry run would also be choked with impenetrable ice for weeks on end. Fortunately, during much of that era, the Norton Point connection between Chappy and the Vineyard was substantial. People would often drive “by the beach” to avoid the ferry line or to get over during the ferry’s off-hours. This was common practice year-round. In the summer time, it would be a pleasant way to start or end your day. In the winter time, it was a calculated risk. If you got stuck, it could be a long walk to civilization. No cell phones back then! People often traveled in a convoy. There were hard learned lessons about how to deal with snow on the beach trails. For instance, don’t drive on sand if you can’t see the sand. A mixture of snow and sand becomes a slurry that acts like quicksand under even the biggest, softest four-wheel drive tires.
There also used to be long rows of snow fencing along that beach in an effort to build up the dunes. The fencing was held up by metal posts. These would eventually rust off at ground level. The stub of a metal post remaining just below the surface was perfect for puncturing a tire. One late winter evening, David Belcher, the Trustees of Reservations superintendent and his very patient wife Kathy, were returning to Chappy “by the beach.” Half way across, they popped a front tire on a fence post stub. David, of course had a spare tire handy. In fact, he had two spare tires in the truck bed on that trip. Changing the tire didn’t take long as it was a weekly experience for TTOR staff to change somebody’s tire.
With the spare on, David hopped back in. He went about 10 feet, which is the customary interval between snow fence posts and encountered the next fence post stub. The newly mounted spare went flat. No big deal. He had that second spare on in no time. David hopped back in. I know that you are thinking that he went another 10 feet and popped the second spare. Actually, he went about 30 feet before popping that tire. He told me that he and Kathy marveled at how they could have missed the two in-between fence stubs. He also told me that had he knew how well a flat tire rides on the sand, that he wouldn’t have changed that tire in the first place.
This article appears in March 6, 2026.