Menemsha Remains a Fishing Village

By Mark Alan Lovewell

Menemsha fishermen rise with the sun. On a cool, clear morning the lobstermen came down one by one to take their boats to sea.

Early morning is the most civilized hour on the Menemsha waterfront. It starts with first light. Even at the height of summer, the fishermen claim ownership to the sights and sounds of the morning. This is their time. The sense of quiet is as strong as the first rays of sunlight reaching across the marsh. By the time the smell of frying bacon drifts down from the hill above, the Menemsha lobstermen and other pot fishermen are out beyond the bell buoy.

Even the small local and visiting fishing draggers that spend the night at Dutcher Dock are usually gone by daybreak. They all like to get out to do their fishing before the late afternoon winds kick up the seas.

Only by mid-afternoon do these men of the sea come home. Everyone, especially the wives, sons, daughters and friends, hopes they make a day's pay. These things matter. In Chilmark, everyone is still connected to the sea.

To anyone arriving at Menemsha for the first time, this is the Vineyard's prettiest of communities. It is the quintessential New England fishing port. For every Vineyard visitor, whether it is winter or summer, the little community tucked between the North Shore and Lobsterville knows no equal.

But don't talk about Menemsha's quintessential anything to a salty commercial fishermen. They've heard it from every visitor.

On Dutcher Dock, the waterfront elders are still respected. They are sometimes referred to as "uncle" even by those unrelated. To them, Menemsha is a heritage. It is a haven for an industry that has been pushed and shoved by change. Some of the changes have been good. Many of them are worrisome.

For the fishermen, keeping Menemsha a fishing port is more than the preservation of a livelihood, it is a matter of heritage.

It is true, Menemsha may get crowded on a summer's day. And it is true that the local commercial fishermen are shy of crowds. But don't misunderstand their preference for distance and solitude as somehow being unfriendly to their summer visitors. In this seaside community there is a warm link.