I wonder if there is another place like Chappy. Is there any place quite so remote and yet accessible? Popular and unpopular? Populous and under-populated? Maybe what separates us from most locations is our location — tantalizingly close to connected, yet untethered. True, we are anchored to our spot by the land below water, just as is the “Big Island” is, but there is an air of a slow drifting away that permeates our senses.

To me, there is something child-like about our home here. We are dependent on the ferry. Our mom. We can go only so far without enlisting her help. She picks us up and brings us home. Always gracious, but a bit of the martyr in her too. Her gate rises, we file on — by foot or wheel, and then wait obediently for all her brood to be fully boarded before she leaves.

And like Mom, we trust in the benevolent competence of the ferry and her captains. We’ve all taken the ferry in inclement weather, rarely doubting that the trip will be anything but fine. Just fine. And we find refuge in her too. She is the conduit to comfort — the audible sigh of relief. She holds us between her wooden rails. We set adrift on her, detached from the troubles that fade behind us — never out of sight but at least a blur.

There is also an air of the mystic — the mythical — in the ferry crossing. Like argonauts, we board the vessel on a voyage to the “other side” (if slightly less of an odyssey in length). Tom Dunlop captures this quality of the ferry in his Chappy Ferry book. Tom is a gifted writer, and the reader can feel his enthusiasm for that short trip in his written words. It is Tom who reminded me lately about the mystique of the Chappy ferry. Tom is somewhat a mythical creature himself (in my estimation). He has the live eyes of a wood sprite — securely placed on his face for sure, but those eyes seem liable at any moment to flee their sockets and head out on adventures of their own.

The ferry is our home away from home — our Manhattan lobby and elevator; our coffee shop on the corner. She is also our bridge. I imagine the ferry as one length of bridge, laid one after another to its destination, like two planks over river rocks. I love sitting on her high-gloss enamel seats, amidst her motherly collection of do’s and don’ts signs. Night or day, I ease into place between her rails and sigh that happy breath of someone who is returning home. Thanks, ferry. Thanks, Mom.

In other news, the celebrated Chappy Calendar is nearing its deadline for photo submissions. Next Friday, the 3rd of August, final voting will take place. So don’t miss your chance to have your memory possibly immortalized in print. But please, people, and this shouldn’t need to be said: no nudity. That means you, too, Lady Gaga.

The Trustees of Reservations Family Fishing Adventure will be held Friday, the 3rd, from 9 to noon. Please pre-register at the CCC. And yes, no nudity there either.

And finally, the last summer movie of the season will take place at the CCC on Friday, the 3rd, as well (big day!). Best in Show is the selection. This is a Christopher Guest movie (Spinal Tap, Waiting for Guffman . . .), and as such is one of the few movies that I’m able to watch several times. Truly funny. But I do warn you: there is dog nudity.

So good to be back on my rightful throne. I will report from this position again next week, unless Peter Wells usurps my crown once again. Best to all.