The organized madness which has been afloat and ashore continued throughout the week as the plot unfolded in Jaws. There’s a contagiousness to the mood of the opus, and Islanders steadily stopped by to spectate when the filming was on the Norton and Easterbrooks’ dock and peered anxiously seaward when it was not.

The movie production is attracting the literary world, and reporters keep dropping in to catch up on the latest, among these was a spellbound photographer from the Christian Science Monitor and Henry McGee from Newsweek. It’s reported too that even Bill Quinn attempted to land a helicopter on the Chappy point, but the wind was too much for him.

The great news of the week was that the sharks arrived. There had been considerable sea-searching for a shark, and one finally turned up, or rather in, in Sarasota — an 11-foot tiger shark, ideal for resembling a great white. It was promptly flown up wrapped in salt.

Jaws is turning out to be the longest social “do” the Island has ever seen. People are getting to know a whole different crowd, and spectators and extras are enjoying themselves no end. One wonders if the same is true of the crew, but they are all so pleasant they mist be happy too.

Catastrophe nearly dampened spirits as well as people when a boat, not called the Andrea Doria, decided to behave like her. The camera boat was steaming alongside her when an errant wave pushed the boats together in a great clamp. In the bump, camera and camera man nearly went overboard and someone on the other boat was going over backwards, so the helmsman reached for his passenger and in so doing hit the throttle and lost the wheel. The craft then spun out of control wide open, or so the story goes (everyone tells it a little differently and it’s always a good one). All the viewers heartily agree that they never could reenact the scene even though they’re all pretty good actors after two weeks of treading the boards (of the Norton and Easterbrooks’ dock).

Weather is always a factor since many days can be unmanageable afloat. Not believing the locals really know a blamed thing about what “it’s going to do”, one director decided the only reliable forecasters were those at the National Weather Bureau in Los Angeles. One can only imagine their surprise when asked, long distance, from Edgartown for the weather in Edgartown.

One actor arrived on the Island and it can only be surmised that he was not a country boy, since his first outdoorsy confrontation was with a skunk, which, of all things, he kindly leaned down to pet. The intensity of the ensuing stench can only be compared to that being wafted from the Norton and Easterbrooks dock. Scup and other dead charmers used for the chumming-for-shark scenes had been aging, and the addition of the shark for Monday’s shooting did nothing to improve matters.

The shark, dubbed Oscar by the exporters, was unpacked with all the excitement of Christmas morning, and extras and actors ogled with delight. Twenty-four hours later they couldn’t have cared if they ever saw or smelt another. For hours the shark was sung to, shot with guns, stabbed with arrows, sprayed with bug deterrent, hoisted by his tail (then his nose), washed with water, made-up and bloodied by Max Factor.

Henry R, Carreiro clowned his way through scene after scene obviously having the time of his life. In fact he had been such a clown that on occasions the directors decided his lines were funnier than theirs.

Some of the old standbys, like Woodrow Wilson Sayre, Mrs. Everett H. Poole and Allan Miller were wearing out their props and foul weather gear, while there were additions in crowd scenes of Mrs. Frederick Feiner and scores of Fligors. All poked or pointed at the shark, which was worth pointing at, while Richard Hathaway contemplated the temperature of the water, knowing that the time was approaching when his part called for him to be in it.

Mrs. John T. Golding said she was awakened Saturday morning as the cavalcade of trucks went roaring out of town at 6:30 a.m. headed for a day’s shooting at Gay Head. This expedition tangled with uncooperative weather, by then a constant source of irritation.

After days on the briny, Mrs. Edwin Brooks and Mrs. Charles J. Blair now have tansy like they’ve never had before at this time of year, and Mrs. Williams C. Bowie will probably never carry a picnic basket again.

All this commotion wherever it goes is accompanied by the production nurse, Helen Jackson, which makes one wonder why there should be two nurses on this one small Island named Helen Jackson.

It turns out that Jeff Kramer who plays Hendricks is an Island boy, the grandson of Henry Cronig. He now lives in New York where he really is an actor. He happened to read the Gazette story about Jaws and promptly stirred his agent into action. Then he junketed to Boston, met Shari Rhodes and won his part. He’s delighted. It gives him more time on the Island. Mr. Kramer is also the producer of the Vineyard Players and if he’s not busy elsewhere makes it to the Island most summers. This trip is just a bonus.

William Blood of Darien, Conn., has also showed up and plays carious people in different disguises. He is a cousin of Grosvenor A. Blood of Cottage street in Edgartown and has borrowed the latter’s cottage for the duration. Mr. Blood said he spent his honeymoon in Edgartown in 1952, and as he looked over at Chappaquiddick he mused, “That sure has changed.”

At this point Mr. Carreiro stuck his fingers into the heavily blooded mouth of the shark and chuckled, “One of our dental experiments.” He thought a minute and added, “now we’re going to do a fluoride commercial.”

A hammer went overboard, and it must have been an important hammer because lots of engineering ability was used trying to retrieve it with a magnet, and it was holding up production.

In Sunday night’s storm, one of the wee boats of the armada sank, depositing its tool chest on the bottom, so Monday morning saw James Fargo, production manager, sneaking about on the floor of the harbor in his wet suit. The next day he sailed forth to corral the City of Chappaquiddick which once again operates under her own power and will now be the camera scow. A situation which would no doubt delight her creators, Tony Bettencourt and Manuel Swartz.

Shooting on Rough Seas

By Wednesday there was more shooting at sea, and the winds gusted up to 40 which should have been just dandy. Chris Anastasio, late of Graffiti, pondered the chop, because he too was scheduled to take a dip.

That afternoon the town proper was taken over. Brickman’s of Martha’s Vineyard became Brickman’s of Amity Island, the Edgartown Drug Company became the J.P. Watson Drug store, the Country Store became a real estate office, and a bike rental shop appeared behind a picket fence (which also appeared next to the Harborside Inn, and Mr. and Mrs. John Coward’s house was dubbed the Amity Police Station. Action ensued up and down North and South Water streets with 83 extras walking their dogs, riding bikes, window shopping and selling cakes all under bunting and a banner advertising the Amity Island Fourth of July Celebration and 50th Annual Regatta. Corny posters, also advertising the regatta and fireworks, were displayed in shop windows.

The spectators accumulated with the extras, so it was hard for even the directors to tell them apart. Also there were those who had accidentally gotten themselves trapped on the set and were trying to get off, dodging in and out of the crevices between buildings to keep out of camera range. Going to the post-office for instance became a difficult operation.

For once, the weather decided to cooperate and for yesterday’s shooting it really looked a bit like summer although the trees weren’t quite out. In fact the scene strongly resembled the Fourth of July parade, with people camping on the curb in the customary fashion (as they have for years) waiting for the parade to begin.

Cue lights were wheeled up and down the hill while grips using double-headed nails (so they come out easily) put down tracks for the camera dolly.

Behind all of this, a cherry tree in full bloom in the Leo J. Convery yard did its best to get into the act.

Tisbury selectmen gave quick approval Monday evening to a request from Mr. Fargo, Jaws production manager, for permission to use three sites in their town for future filming.

Shooting is planned for the Leather and Silver Shop at the Main street-Union street intersection, for the front of the Capawock Theater on Main street (a false marquee will be erected for the filming, expected to take one or two days, and on Lake Tashmoo with a shore base at the Ralph M. Packer Jr. property.

No permits were needed, said Manuel M. Maciel, chairman of the selectmen, though close cooperation with the Tisbury police was advised.

Lawrence J. (Speed) Andrews, present at the Monday evening meeting, went so far as to invite the movie crew to use a real parade (the Island Memorial Day trek will be in Vineyard Haven this year) for its Fourth of July scene.

“It’s a pleasure to do business in Tisbury,” Mr. Fargo said.