Flotsam and Jetsam

From the Vineyard Gazette editions of August, 1958:

Among the many paintings by New Bedford’s marine artist, Benjamin Russell, which are now on show, is the Wreck of the Christina. The wreck of the Christina was one of the most famous as well as one of the most tragic that occurred in Vineyard waters.

In for a Penny

From the Vineyard Gazette editions of August, 1933:

A relic of times when Edgartown was a port under the jurisdiction of the British king came to light last week in the form of an old coin found by an employee of James Lineaweaver, summer resident of Edgartown. The Lineaweaver summer home at Tower Hill is near the site of the old landing where, doubtless, merchant vessels of two centuries and more ago often discharged and fitted.

Diving for Dollars

From the Vineyard Gazette editions of August, 1983:

Every day during the summer a small band of young swimmers gathers at the beach near the Oak Bluffs Steamship Authority wharf. Wearing underwater masks, and fins in some cases, they tread water and await the arriving boats from the mainland.

From the Vineyard Gazette editions of 1934:

The Seaman’s Bethel, located on the waterfront at Vineyard Haven, is one of those institutions peculiar to the coast and to comparatively few towns and cities. Established and maintained by the Boston Seaman’s Friend Society, the Seaman’s Bethel is managed by Chaplain Austin Tower, who at once constitutes a clergyman, sea-going ambulance driver, harbor master, life guard and general friend in need to all who venture upon the water.

In the Forest

From the Vineyard Gazette editions of July, 1933:

Capt. A. S. Knight, commanding officer of the Civilian Conservation Corps on the Vineyard, has received orders permitting the enlistment of fifteen local men for service with the 106th company, the company at present on the state forest on the great plain. This will bring the company to about 200 men, the strength allotted to the camp by the government.

From July Vineyard Gazette editions:

Ordinarily at this phase of an Island summer the hedgerows would be dusty, and dust would be coating the dry, hot sweet fern beside our sandy roads. The scent of huckleberry and bayberry thickets would seem to be part of the heat, part of the sunny day and the elixir of sunlight itself. Older inhabitants remember how the iron rims of carriage wheels used to sink into the sand, and how the heat and the dust mingled and then fell apart.