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HomeMy WebLinkAboutGeneral JUU Long Islanders, '-1'ied to Connecticut The Dwindling Population of Fishers Island Is Isolated by State Borders and Winter's Winds ~ I I By ROBERT A. HAMILTON . FISHERS ISLAND WILLIAM BLOETHE pulled his grocery van up to the pier at Silver Eel Cove at 7: 30 one January morning to collect his morning delivery, a bundle of newspapers and mag- azines. With the temperature in the single digits and the wind blawure~ to make it feel like 30 below, he left the engine runt ~1I while he went aboard the ferry, but even a few minu ~ outside was enough to leave his fingers near frozen\. "Fishers Island is a great place to live if you can stand the winters," Mr. Bloethe said, pulling his hands from their gloves and rubbing them briskly. "Every winter you get aggravated and you want to give it up, but nobody wants to move in the middle of winter. Then in April the weather starts to warm up and the people start 'to come back and things get real busy, and you don't have any time to think about it." . In the winter, the Fishers Island movie theater shuts down. So do the coffee shop and the barber. There are three churches (Catholic, Episcopalian, which also 'closes for the winter, and United Church of Christ) and two gas stations, but no dentist. In the summer. the island supports two golf courses. George Ruhe for The New York 'mes NO TRAFFIC JAMS, NO TRAFFIC UGHTS, NO TRAFFIC Fishers Island is just 20 miles from its town hall in Sauthold, but the trip means two ferries and takes hours. Above left, downtown Fishers Island. Right, the market for year-round residents. Islanders worry the population may fall too low to sustain the community. In the winter, sportsmen hunt pheasant on one. Resi- dents get to use the other at no Charge because there is no staff to collect the greens fees. The two state troopers who are here from May 1 to Thanksgiving leave the island to part-time constables. Fishers Island is part of Southold town, whose officials worry whether Fishers Island can maintain a large enough year-round population to sustain itself. In the 1960's, more than 600 people lived there year round; there are fewer than 300 today. "It's a constant concern out here," said Louisa Evans, the Fishers Island representative to the Southold Town Council. "We worry all the time about how we can keep people, and how we might be able to attract more. "What's optimal? Certainly more people than we have now. In the school it would be nice to have more children in the classroom. If the population gets much older, will there be enough young people for the fire department?" The school, a "magnet" school with 12 grades, has 75 students, including 19 who commute from Connecti- cut and one from Rhode Island, who pay tuition. Also in the winter, the peculiarity of its local govern. ment becomes a little more apparent. Southold is 20 miles - or two ferry trips - away. The only ferry serving Fishers Island operates out of New London. As the Southold town supervisor, Jean Cochrall, notes, "They even have a Connecticut ZIP code; when.# Continued on Page 15 I I I . ~' ,;;' :: -:= I THE NEW YORK TIMES, SUNDA Y, FEBRUARY 6, 2000 300 Long Islanders, Tied to Connecticut Continued From Page 1 had a New York ZIP code, no one could figure out how to get the mail out there." But she added, "We have people stationed over there from our fire department. We have our police con- stables over there. OUf highway de- partment serves Fishers Island, and we go over once a year as a town board, in the summertime, and have one of our board meetings there. It's a good connection, and we enjoy go- ing over to visit." At just seven miles long and never much more than a mile wide, with , frigid winds off the Sound whipping , the island into a deep freeze from Thanksgiving to Easter, it is hard to figure out why people might want to live here year-round. "Can you really call this living?" Charles J. Morgan asks as he warms himself with a cup of coffee in Mr. Bloethe's store. He came to the is- land 50 years ago. "To live here year- round, you have to be a certain type of individual, self-reliant and able to live on your own. You've got to have hobbies. I wouldn't go to the movies if they had it open all year round. I read and I have my photography and I play golf, even in the winter." But the real islanders, not the 4,000 residents who show up in warm weather, take perverse pride in be. ing able to eke out an existence. They boast openly about how many things shut down, about how they tough it The New York Times out until the ice is off the rocky shores and the tourists return. The winter population is also steeped in tradition. They refer to the "new" firehouse, built in 1964, and the "new" schoolhouse, which two generations of islanders have al- ready attended. A semiretired gardener, Mr. Mor.. gan still looks after two homes on the island, including one where he has f,~~d~d plants for aIm.ost 40 years, If ne has enough time, he also tinkers with two old cars, a BMW and a Toyota. "Everybody here is pretty self- sufficient. We just kind of take win- ter iJ}. stride," Mr. Morgan said. "Some people come up here and the first winter, tl1e first time the boat gets cancelled, they panic. Well, where are you going to go if there's a bad storm, even if the ferry was running? It's not like it's never going to come back." It's a question of perspective. A visitor may complain that roads are unplowed days after a storm. An , . islander says it slows down the traf- " fie. In fact, people tend to walk their , dogs dqwn the middle of the road, and seem genuinely surprised when '1 they have to move over for traffic. But the isllmders are friendly; city :.. dwellers may be surprised to see that. drivers wave with all their fin- gers. Everyone helps out when he can. When one resident had a flat tire on her way to Bloethe's Market, a pass- er-by gave her a ride, even though it was out of his way, After she called the service station, Mr. Bloethe of- fered her the use of the delivery van to get her groceries home. When Mr. Bloethe's Jack Russell terrier saw the keys come out, he started bounc- ing around, looking for a ride, so she took the dog with her, promising to , return him later that day. " "That's the way it is when you , know everyhody," Mr, Bloethe said, :, For a long time, the island did not '. ~ have a doctor, but it had an arrange- ment with a New York teaching hos- pital that rotated internists out to the c;" island every two weeks. "You knew I - right away who the doctor was when they got off the ferry," Mr. Bloothe said. "It was the only person you didn't know." There is a resident doctor now semiretired, but an important safe~ ~.~_-I "'__ ..t.._ ,_,__-'___ Photographs by George Ruhe for The New York Times The two-ferry trip from Fishers ,Island to Southold starts in Silver Eel Cove. In the market, Cynthia Riley, above left, a library director, chats with the Rev. Rosemary Baue, United Church of Christ pastor. Left, Bruce Hubert, con- stable and painting contractor. keeper and gardener for a succes. sian of famous people, but he will not tell you which ones. When Mr. Rogan, who is known as Joe,. was growing up on the island, the Army still operated Fort H. G. Wright at the western end. The con- crete bunkers that once held heavy artillery to fight off a feared invasion force from Germany stand empty; a fence around the 1,800-acre post is rusting. One house on Hay Harbor, the next bay east, is familiar to visitors: the shingled summer house where' Robin Williams and Glenn Close filmed "The World According to Garp:' (Mr. Rogan's daughter was an extra in the film.) Since the military left half a cen- tury ago, Mr. Rogan has made his living on the eastern end of the is- land, where only residents and guests may travel: the roads there are privately owned by the Fishers Island Development Corporation. He says the lack of Burger Kings or Dunkin Donuts does not bother The highest point on the island is just 140 feet above sea level, a prom. ontory where the utilities district has mounted a water tower. No matter where you are on the island, you can see the ocean all around. And no matter which way the wind blows, you can feel it anywhere. "People out here call Connecticut 'the mainland,' " said Justin Fisher 20, who moved to the island with hi~ mother last year. "The first time you hear that, it gets to you. It's not like we're in another country. But after 20 years in Connecticut, it was a bit of a culture shock. I mean, one store him. "I like seafood, and I can dig all on the whole island? When I was the clams I want when everyone back home there was a Cumberland leaves," Mr. Rogan said. "I don't like Farms down the street, and a Me- ta do it in the summertime because Donald's. You miss things like that. it'll show people where my spots are, Just to have a mall would be great." and they'll go in and clean them right Alison Scroxton, 21, who works in out." Bloethe's Market, grew up on the He tries to get over to Connecticut island, and said she used to feel the every week or 10 days, and he gener- same way. ally tries to accomplish several er- "My class was a big class, and it railds: shop, see a doctor, do some was a class of six," she said. "One banking. If you forget to buy aspirin boy; all the rest were girls. None of and come down with a headache in us could wait to graduate high the middle of the night, you have only school; we all were going to get out. one choice: "You have to call Billy It was boring, nothing to do, nowhere and get him to open the store." to go. Fishers Island is desolate when "Now I love it. The majority of my the temperature drops, and Marlin classmates, when I talk to them, they B~oethe, who runs the grocery store . r~gret. ever having .left. They could- WIth her husband, said islanders n t waIt to get off thIS rock, but when think of their ferry trips to Connecti- they have a school break, they can't cut as more than just a jaunt to the wait to come back." mainland. Winters are still not the busiest "It's nice, but sometimes it gets times, she said, but the islanders too quiet, and you have to get on the keep busy. "A few of us just started boat and go back to America" she up out aerobics class,." Miss Scrox- said. "All there is to do is' work ton said. "We have a girls' softball around the store and walk the rim,." league. And we go down to the Amer- land 50 years ago. "To live here year- round, you have to be a certain type of individual, self-reliant and able to live on your own. You've got to have hobbies. I wouldn't go to the movies if they had it open all year round. I read and I have my photography and I play golf, even in the winter." But the real islanders, not the 4,000 residents who show up in warm weather, take perverse pride in be- ing able to eke out an existence. They boast openly about how many things shut down, about how they tough it out until the ice is off the rocky shores and the tourists return. The winter population is also steeped in tradition. They refer to the "new" firehouse, built in 1964, and the "new" schoolhouse, which two generations of islanders have al- ready attended. A semiretired gardener, Mr. Mor.. gan still looks after two homes on the island, including one where he has tended plants ,for almoBt 40 years. If he has enough time, he also tinkers with two old cars, a BMW and a Toyota. "Everybody here is pretty seif- sufficient. We just kind of take win- ter il). stride," Mr. Morgan said. "Some people come up here and the first winter, th.e first time the boat gets cancelled, they panic. Well, where are you going to go if there's a bad storm, even if the ferry was running? It's not like it's never going to come back." It's a question of perspective. A visitor may complain that roads are unplowed days after a storm. An islander says it slows down the traf- fic. In fact, people tend to walk their dogs dQwn the middle of the road, and seem genuinely surprised when they have to move over for traffic. But the islanders are friendly; city .. dwellers may be surprised to see that drivers wave with all their fin- gers. Everyone helps out when he can. When one resident had a flat tire on her way to Bloethe's Market, a pass- er-by gave her a ride, even though it was out of his way. After she called the service station, Mr. Bloethe of- fered her the use of the delivery van to get her groceries home. When Mr. Bloethe's Jack Russell terrier saw the keys come out, he started bounc- ing around, looking for a ride, so she took the dog with her, promising to return him later that day. "That's the way it is when you know everybody," Mr. Bloethe said. For a long time, the island did not have .a doctor, but it had an arrange- . ment with a New York teaching hos- pital that rotated internists out to the <; j island every two weeks. "You knew I . right away who the doctor was when they got off the ferry," Mr. Bloethe said. "It was the only person you didn't know." There is a resident doctor now, semiretired, but an important safe. guard for the islanders. ., First settled in 1615, Fishers Is- '. land has attracted tourists since the "', late 19th century. The year-round 7'; population has never been large, : though, in part because of the win- .:~' ters. Jobs are few: a couple of posi- . -. tions at what is referred to with a smile as the Boroleurn factory, a small building that packages an oint- I> ment for skin ailments; a few lob- stermen, some jobs at the utilities department and on the road crew. But some famous people have '. called it home during the summers: Rockefellers and Roosevelts, Ou. '.) Pants and Firestones. Many still P maintain homes there, but the sea- ~ sonal residents (islanders call them "the families") value their privacy, ;.;. and the year-rounders respect that. There is a strong economic interest to observe the policy: many island. ers work at the seasonal homes. Paul Rogan, who came to the is- land In 1931, will tell you that he has ... been handyman, bartender, grounds- The highest point on the island Is just 140 feet above sea level, a prom- ontory where the utilities district has mounted a water tower. No matter where you are on the island, you can see the ocean all around. And no matter which way the wind blows, you can feel it anywhere. "People out here call Connecticut 'the mainland,'" said JustinFisher, 20, who moved to the island with his mother last year. "The first time you hear that, it gets to you. It's not like we're in &nother country. But after 20 years in Connecticut, it was a bit of a cultureshc;)C}c. I mean, one store him. "I like seafood, and I can dig all on the whole island? When I was the clams I want when everyone back home there was a Cumberland leaves," Mr. Rogan said. "I don't like Farms down the street, llI1d a Mc- to do it iIi the summertime because Donald's. You miss things like that. it'll show people where my spots are, Just to have a mall would be great." and they'll go in and clean them right Alison Scroxton, 21, who works in out." Bloethe's Market, grew up on the , He tries to get over to Connecticut Island, and said she used to feel the every week or 10 days, and he gener- same way. ally tries to accomplish several er- "My class was a big class, and it rands.: shop, see a doctor, do some was a class of six," she said. "One banking. If you forget to buy aspirin boy; lll1 the rest were girls. None of and come down with a headache in us could walt to graduate high the middle of the night, you have oilly school; we all were going to get out. one choice: "You have to call Billy It was boring, nothing to do, nowhere and get him to open the store." to go. Fishers Island is desolate when "Now I love it. The majority of my the' temperature drops, and Marlin classmates, when I talk to the~, tl:1ey Bloethe who runs the grocery sto,e regret ever having left. They could- with ~r husband, sald islanders. n't walt to get off this rock, but whe~ think of their ferry trips to Connecti-' ther have a school ,~reak, they can t cut as more than jllSt'a jaunt to the Wlllt to come back. mllinIaitd. - Winters are still not the busiest "It's nice but sometimes it gets times, she said, but the islanders too quiet, ;n;d you have to get on the keep busy. "~ few of ~ just started boat and go back to America,", she up our. ae~blcs class,. MI~s Scrox- said. "All there is to do is work ton sllld, We have a girls softball around the store and walk the dog." ~eague. And we go down to the Amer- Ican Legion once m a while !'fid play cards." Her father, Edward, a 2Q-year member of the Flsbers Island high- way crew,\ is commander. and head bartender at the Legion Post, the . only wintertime nightspot, open 365 days a year. There is microwave popcorn and toaster pizza, and a barbecue pit if someone wants to gri1I a cheeseburger in good weather. "To a degree, it takes an ex-cep- tional individual to live out here in the wintertime," Mr. Seroxton. sald. "Vou see the steam rising off the salt water like that, and you know the air temperature is going to be cold when you step out the door. So you spend time inside when you have to. I'll sit in my chair and break apart a fishing reel and clean it or repair it. Every- body k!"'ps busy." "But it also tends to bring out the best in a few people," he continued. "I've thought about leaving before, but I just can't seem to, get it out of my system." ' , . keeper and gardener for a succes- sion of famous people, but he will not tell you which ones. When Mr. Rogan, who Is known as Joe,. was growing up on the island, the Army still operated Fort H. G. Wright at the western end. The con- crete bunkers that once held heavy artillery to fight off a feared invasion force from Germany stand empty; a fence around the 1,800-acre post Is rusting. One house on Hay Harbor, the next bay east, Is familiar to visitors: the shingled summer house where Robin Williams and Glenn Close filmed "The World According to Garp." (Mr. Rogan's daughter was an extra in the film.) Since the milltary left half a cen- tury ago, Mr. Rogan has made his llving on the eastern end of the Is- land, where only residents and guests may travel; the roads there are privately owned by the Fishers . Island Development Corporatiol). He says the lack of Burger Kings or Dunkin Donuts does not bother Not surprisingly, winter days for the island's 300 residents are slow, photographs by George Rube for The New York: TImes The two-ferry trip from Fishers ,Island to Southold starts in Silver Eel Cove. In the market, Cynthia Riley; above-left, a library director, chats with the Rev_ Rosemary Baue, United Church of Christ pastor, Left, Bruce Hubert, con- stable and painting contractor.