An Ocean Girl Relishes Being Back on the Sand

I am an ocean girl. Growing up on Long Island, 15 minutes from Jones Beach, the ocean was a key player in my life. On sunny summer days my mother would pack us three kids, lunch, some towels, a few toys and a blanket into our 1962 Rambler. Off we would go for the day. Going to the beach was simple then — no sun tents, no boogie boards, no chairs, and most shockingly no sunscreen, which led to some nasty sunburns.

My mother always wore a big straw hat and brought a book. She would sit on the blanket while we played in the water or the sand. In those days it was common practice after eating to stay out of the water for an hour to avoid cramping. I don’t know if it was an old wives’ tale invented by mothers to get a break from playing lifeguard or if there is medical wisdom behind this mandate. For my mother it was her chance to take a beach walk. She told us to stay on the blanket and out of the water. She was never good with time and would often be gone close to two hours. Despite being hot and bored, to my amazement we never disobeyed the rule to stay put.

In the off season the beach was our playground for shuffleboard, roller skating and long walks on the boardwalk. Watching winter storms roll in with high surf was thrilling. As I grew older the beach provided summer jobs and once I got my driver’s license it was our favorite place to play hooky from school.

Fifty years later this ocean girl is grateful to be back living on an Island, once again a coveted 15-minute drive to the ocean. The constant refrain in our home is, “Have you been to the beach today?”

My beach bag now has a book, sunscreen and my own big hat. We bring a Cool Cabana to help fend off the strong rays of the sun, enabling us to stay longer. I’ve graduated from a blanket to a chair. The cooler occasionally has a bottle of wine and glasses to toast the evening sunset. I no longer wait an hour after lunch to take a dip.

From May 1 until mid-October we leave our beach gear in the back of the car so we can be out of the house in 10 minutes flat to head to the beach of our choice for the day. The rest of the year we take walks and monitor the eroding shoreline after storms. The colors of the surf and sky change throughout the seasons and no two days are alike. I never tire of the sound of the ocean or the feel of sand between my toes.

As I take my own beach walks on the Vineyard, I think of my mother and how happy she was at the beach. In her later years she exchanged Long Island for Manhattan and the Atlantic Ocean for the Hudson River. Well into her 90s she took a daily walk to the river and found solace in the movement of the water and excitement in the ever-changing river traffic.

After she died I had her ashes put in a biodegradable urn made of sand decorated with footprints on it. Early one Sunday morning I dropped her into the Hudson and sent her on her way out to the ocean as a final tribute, one ocean girl to another.

Maggie Mulqueen lives in West Tisbury.

This article appears in June 26, 2026.