Looking up through the rear-view mirror and in my best William Shatner voice, I announced to 43 unsuspecting people: “Martha’s Vineyard, the final frontier, this is the voyage of the blue bus. Today we will go boldly where no bus has ever gone before. I’m Commander Ken and off we go.”
Thus, began another tour around the Island of Martha’s Vineyard.
My behind-the-wheel career started in college. My father ran a transportation company and he often needed me to drive. Trips to the track for the gamblers. Trips to the Catskills for the tourists. Trips to Manhattan for the businessmen, chauffeuring limousines for the newlyweds — I looked smart in the suit and cap.
Driving stayed in my genes. Next up, a taxi career.
In 1967 as a young fourth grade teacher in the Bronx, it became necessary to augment my income with a part-time job. So, I got a NYC “hack” license. The physical test remains a vivid memory. The examiner ordered, “Lift your left leg, put it down. Lift your right leg, put it down.” I passed. My 4 p.m. to 2 a.m. weekend shift sent me from the bright lights on Broadway to the sticks of Staten Island.
Years later, now living on the Vineyard and needing a summer day job, Martha’s Vineyard Sightseeing Line owner Jules BenDavid hired me to drive a tour bus. I caught up with Jules recently and he was happy to reminisce.
“I really enjoyed the business,” he recalled. “I thought I treated all the drivers well. We had a good time and a great party at the end of the season.”
Jules remains a fair and gracious man.
The job, as I saw it, was to make a group of tourists listen to my two-hour version of the Vineyard. Talk about what? Island sights, Island history, Island people. No problem. I would figure out my “spiel.” After all, they were a captive audience on the bus. Where could they go?
Six days a week for the next several summers, I traversed our fair Island. Summer traffic in the 1970s was a breeze compared to today. But there were those pesky mopeds.
I commanded a large blue renovated school bus. On hot days I told my groups: “You all have your own personal air conditioner, just lower your window.”
We drove for tips. My personal best happened when my mother, visiting the Island at the time, sat right behind me. She howled at my jokes and raved loudly about the wonderful driver. At the end of the tour, she stood and waved a $10 bill; many followed her lead. Returning home, Mrs. Goldberg wanted her cut.
It was never a tour, but a performance.
“Write down your questions and drop them off in the tip jar on your way off,” I suggested. “By the way, my greatest tour jokes are now available on cassette for $19.95.”
Visitors saw plenty. Impressive whaling captains’ homes, the rolling hills and stone walls in Chilmark, the majestic cliffs, stunning up-Island Atlantic Ocean views, barreling through Five Corners. They learned about Bartholomew Gosnold, Chicama Vineyard and the celebrities.
At Beetlebung Corner, they learned about a “bung.”
Leaving Gay Head (now Aquinnah), we took a right on Moshup Trail. I urged the passengers to look over the dunes for the nude bathers at Zacks Cliffs.
Everyone strained their necks to see.
We cruised by the airport where at one time you could fly on Air New England from the Vineyard to LaGuardia for $24. That was true. They also learned the Air New England motto, “We never left anyone up there yet.” That quote has not yet been verified.
On Upper Main street in Edgartown, I showed them the beautiful building where anyone could eat and stay for free.
“Really? they asked.
They finally believed me when they saw the bars on the windows of our county jail.
Driving on North Water street with a view of Chappaquiddick, they learned the only transportation was a three-car ferry, unless you were a great swimmer.
State Beach was all about Jaws, the Vineyard’s very famous home movie. The bus slowed way down for photographs, much to the chagrin of those behind us. Cameras clicked away while I gave them a play-by-play of all the shark munching action in the Sound and in the pond. I then honked the horn, encouraging jumpers to leap off the Big Bridge.
Now heading toward the dangerous Farm Neck Golf Course, where golfers always had to wear two pairs of socks, “in case you got a hole in one,” (groan).
Finally, back to the Island Queen.
The veteran drivers laughed telling their stories.
David Stevens perhaps prevaricated. “Those oil tanks in Vineyard Haven were filled with Coca Cola and across the street was the bottling plant,” he would tell the tourists.
David now gives the popular Jaws tour, driving a comfortable 13-passenger van. “I have an overhead screen and give a power point presentation. It’s my high-tech tour,” he said.
Gay Head Sightseeing’s manager Terry McCarthy chimed in. “Our best driver was Joe Sollitto who went on to be clerk of the courts on the Vineyard. My wife Simone drove a tour bus in the 1970s and was the definitely the prettiest of them all.”
“Not only did I never tell a lie, if there is a tour bus driver Hall of Fame, I belong in it,” Jim Pringle claimed. “I once left 13 people in Gay Head. I gave them 20 minutes, they didn’t return, so I left. I had a schedule to keep.”
If anyone does belong in the bus driver Hall of Fame, it is Jocko McCarthy. He is the grand old man of the tour bus circuit, still going strong after 37 consecutive years.
“Driving comes naturally. It’s part of my life,” he said.
Jocko went on to talk about the driver who introduced “tip insurance.” He told the passengers if you tip me before we start, you’ll get a great tour. He lasted one season. Jocko’s best stories are best heard from Jocko in person.
Andre Bonnell said, “I didn’t give them a tour. I gave them a show. Nip ‘n’ Tuck Farm was owned by a group of retired plastic surgeons. The corn at Morning Glory Farm was called Pirate Corn, a buck an ear.”
Mark “Doc” Hyde was a gentleman. His PhD qualified him to both drive and manage for many years. As Doc tells it: “We had an excellent driver name Arthur. Unfortunately, he was constantly late. We explained that alcohol, drugs, women and buses don’t mix. Arthur smiled and said, ‘I’m giving up buses.’”
In 2005, Tom Dresser wrote the popular Tommy’s Tour of the Vineyard.
“They’re still using the book today,” he said.
Back in the 1950s, Trip Barnes went from driving his milk truck to driving the tour bus.
“At the end of the tour, I’d invite the passengers to join me for a drink at the Oceanview, then bring them back to the boat,” he said. “The bus stayed full and the tips were great.”
Now on a cloudy day, I recall driving on an extremely foggy afternoon up-Island when you couldn’t see anything out the window. With nothing to see I would tell the tourists, “And on your right is the new Chilmark Zoo and Amusement Park. It’s there, you just can’t see it.”
The fog was an integral feature of my unique “no sightseeing tour.” Eventually, they got off the bus. Most smiled. Their tips kept me in throat lozenges for many years.
Ken Goldberg is a regular contributor to the Vineyard Gazette. He lives in Edgartown.
This article appears in July 10, 2026.
Great article, good times. I drove for King’s Taxi with “Buzzard” as my CB handle, because I would swoop down and gather (or steal) customers at the boat or wherever they may be. The two hour ‘Island Tours” were the best for tips. Parents would tip in cash, their kids in bottles of wine or illicit drugs. There was the story about how the islands were named by Bartholomew Gosnold. I’ll let others tell that tale. Then there was the “Doll House” on East Chop Drive, “that is so small that only dwarfs can live there”. (We were not all politically correct back then.) And the time I was rattling off dates when buildings were built, and my mother drove past the mini-bus in the opposite direction and I said, “And there goes my mother, and she was built in 1920”. Needless to say, she was not pleased when I told her about it that night. Thanks for the memories Ken and David.