You ever have a dream that lives in your bones for so long it feels like a part of who you are? That’s what Jaws has been to me since I first saw it at eight years old. The music, the suspense, the characters — Brody, Hooper, Quint — they have been my heroes for decades. I can confidently, and scientifically, say it’s the greatest movie ever made. And this year, it turns 50.

So yeah, this is a big one for me.

As a lifelong Jaws nut, I’ve celebrated in a million small ways. I’ve gone on all the tours, reenacted scenes when no one was watching and, yes, even gave my daughter the middle name “Ellen” after Chief Brody’s wife. 

But this June, I’m doing something that little Gabe — the one glued to the screen in 1987 — would have lost his mind over: I’m bringing my 1975 replica Amity Police Chevy Blazer to Martha’s Vineyard (aka: Amity Island) to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Jaws on June 20. And not just to visit — we will be a part of the weekend festivities, including watching Jaws outdoors, right where it was filmed.

Let me back up a bit.

About five years ago, in the middle of lockdown, I was doing what I’ve done every few months since my twenties: checking online for a mid-70s Chevy Blazer like the one Chief Brody drives in the movie. This time, in July 2020, the universe tossed me a curveball in the form of a mint-condition model going up for auction in North Carolina. It was a ‘75 K5 Blazer and already had the same paint job as Brody’s.

It felt like fate. The year 2020 was the 45th anniversary of Jaws and here was this dream vehicle calling my name. I called my wife, told her my budget, and waited with uncertainty for her response. She said something I’ll never forget: “You work eight days a week, you don’t have any toys, and you’ve been talking about this car since our third date. Go for it.”

That’s all I needed.

After winning the auction on my final bid, I flew to Greensboro, N.C, and drove that old boy — now affectionately known as Marty, short for Martin Brody — through the night, all the way back to New Hampshire. It wasn’t the smoothest journey, 800 miles and some unexpected on-the-job training, but I was grinning the whole time.

Over the next several months, I turned Marty into a screen-accurate replica. Amity Police door decals, cherry top lights, black roll bar, white rear panel, new side mirrors to match Brody’s, and even the identical hubcaps. 

“AMITY” vanity plates? Of course. 

Replica yellow barrel from the Orca in the back? Check. And yes, The Spicy Shark branding on the back. Because if there’s one thing I love as much as sharks, it’s spicy food — so much that I started my own hot sauce company. It’s all connected.

Which brings me to this June. I’ll be back on Martha’s Vineyard for the first time since Jawsfest in 2012. That was a life-changing weekend where I met people like Joe Alves, Carl Gottlieb, Jeffrey Voorhees, Lee Fiero, Susan Backlinie, Jeffrey Kramer and Wendy Benchley — Peter Benchley’s wife.

Meeting Wendy and learning about her fight to help save sharks from extinction was part of what inspired me to get involved in shark conservation, learn to dive and eventually create The Spicy Shark. Without Jawsfest, there might not be a Spicy Shark. Wild, right?

This time around, I’ll have Marty with me, as well as my family. I’ll be cruising the same roads Spielberg filmed on over 50 years ago, but now I’m behind the wheel of Brody’s truck. It feels surreal. But even better, I’ve been telling my daughter Joanna for years that when she finally sees Jaws for the first time, she will also be eight years old, but it’s going to be right on “Amity Island.” And now, she will, with her dad, surrounded by fellow Jaws people, under the stars on the very Island where it all began.

That’s the magic of this movie — it brings people together. It creates a community of fans who share a deep, quirky love for a film about a shark that terrorized a summer town and brought together three unlikely heroes. And in my case, it sparked a life path, a business and more cherished memories than I can count.

So here’s to 50 years of Jaws, to Marty the Chevy Blazer, to Amity Island and to never outgrowing the things that make us feel alive.

Amity, as you know, means friendship.

Gabe DiSaverio lives in New Hampshire.