Trip Barnes died on Tuesday. He was called Trip because he was the third Clarence Alfred Barnes. There will be plenty of details about his life elsewhere in this newspaper and on social media. His many attributes and contributions will be hailed. He assumed a great variety of roles in his community. He wouldn’t be shy about being praised for his benevolence and willingness to give of his time. He was proud of his legacy. But I also know that he would want to be remembered as a trouble maker. He loved to give the authorities their comeuppance. He voiced his opinion plainly, though not always politely. In private, he expressed himself with many colorful expletives.
I’m writing this column from on board the Island Home Wednesday morning with a dump truck full of scrap metal. The only reservation available was for Thursday night. But here I am, on the boat after waiting a mere 10 minutes in the middle of the first week of September! Modern day miracle! This reminds me of a Trip story!
Many years ago, Trip moved an Island couple out to western Massachusetts. They loaded the truck up one day, finishing late in the evening. The couple headed out that evening for their new home with Trip’s assurance that they would be sleeping in their own bed the next night.
Next morning, bright and early, his guys headed down to the boat with the moving van. His vehicles are easily recognizable with his name emblazoned in three-foot high letters. Trip went about his business that day, confident that all was well. But just after dinner he got a call from the couple inquiring where was their stuff. Trip said that they should have been there by lunchtime. No cell phones in those days, so Trip headed for the last known location of the van. For some reason it hadn’t gotten on any of the many ferry runs that entire day. The agent apologized and promised that it would get on the very next boat.
The next day dawned with the van still in Vineyard Haven. Once again Trip was promised that the van would be on the very next boat. Word got back to Trip while he was eating his lunch that his van was still in Vineyard Haven. He raced down there to see the ferry loading a last couple of cars. Not getting anywhere with promises, he hopped in the cab of the tractor trailer emblazoned with his name in three-foot high letters, drove past Steamship employees waving at him frantically to stop. He did stop, with the front tires of the semi midway up the ramp. Trip waited until the various authorities had gathered to assess the situation. Then he explained that the Islander wasn’t going anywhere until he was guaranteed that his truck would really truly be on the very next boat. He pointed out that his grandfather, Congressman Clarence A. Barnes, was the author of the legislation that created the Steamship Authority and that the purpose of the Steamship Authority was to serve the citizens of the Islands. He asked the attending dignitaries to look around. Did they see anyone they knew other than themselves? Nope! The van was on the very next boat and the newly relocated western Massachusetts couple slept in their own bed that night.
Long story bearable: Trip went to court on a charge of assault with a motor vehicle with three-foot high letters on the side. The judge decided that he should do 100 hours of community service. Upon being reminded of the many contributions that Trip had already made to his community, the judge gave him 99 hours already served and 1 hour outstanding. Trip did a fundraising auction that evening and went to bed with a clear conscious, having paid his debt to society. That time anyway.
This article appears in September 4, 2026.