A Handsome Chappaquiddick Chap

After their mega-tour of Martha's Vineyard, Catball thought it impossible that they could have missed any part of the island.  From Edgartown to Aquinnah and all points in between, Catball and his people had taken in just about all of Martha's Vineyard there was to see, from farms to beaches to gingerbread houses to lighthouses and so much more.  Catball was right--there was not much of anything else to see or explore on that island.  What he did not know, however, was that there was another whole island to explore.

They had seen signs for the Chappy Ferry while they were futzing about Edgartown--Catball figured it was a boat for debonair people, and was delighted to learn that they did not have to have monocles or own race horses and rare brandies to be allowed on.  They buzzed their way along the shoreline road through Vineyard Haven and Oak Bluffs to Edgartown and got in line for the ferry.  There were several cars in line waiting to embark, but because their scoots didn't take up too much room, the ferryman zipped them up to the front of the pack and squeezed them on.  "The other side is right there," Catball said.  "If you were so inclined, you could probably throw me across if you wanted to.  Please do not want to."

The big guy squeezed Catball in his palms in reassurance.

"This is an adorable little boat," thought Catball.  "They should call it an adoraboat."  The ferry was indeed very small, just three cars, their scoots, and a handful of people fit onto it all at once.  As they motored across the small hop-and-a-skip to the other side, an identical adoraboat passed by them, similarly loaded with just a few cars on it.  Catball thought of the poor suckers at the end of the line for the ferry in their cars that they skipped by.  "I hope they like quaintness, because they will have a lot of time to consider the quaintness of this establishment."  The captain of the ferry stood in his little boat hut and Catball smiled at the starch-straight flag at the top if it.  Days like this probably weren't so bad to operate the device, Catball thought, but it was probably much less fun in the winter. 

The mood of the new little island was very different from the mood of the bigger but still little island they left behind.  It was practically deserted, it seemed, with lots of foresty space and not many houses at all.  As they rode down a dirt road, Catball saw a wonderment he never expected to see out this way of all places. 

"It's one of those things!  A thing I like!  A torii!"

Catball and his people disembarked; they had stumbled upon the Mytoi Japanese Garden.  The garden was very pleasant with many winding paths and waters and abundant plant life, and Catball's heart flooded with happiness as he remembered the Osakan adventure that his people took him on before.  Regrettably, it was the buggiest place they had ever been--Catball took refuge in the Adventure Satchel while the people got eaten alive and by persistent horrible winged creatures the likes of which they had never experienced.  "These people do not do zen tranquility very well," Catball said afterwards.  "They do, however, do swarms of angry biting things extremely well, so perhaps they're going for that.  If so, first place."

Ravaged by savages, the three travelers continued down the dirt road until they could go no more--they were confronted by a bridge, and a beach, and then several hundred miles of oceanic pleasantness.  The waters were calm and very warm, and the sands were hot but quite fine underfoot.  While the people dipped into the ocean waves to soothe their monster bites, Catball took a moment to bask. 

Even here, though, the winged creatures managed to attack the humans--while they lacked in number they were abundant with tenacity, and much sooner than any of them wanted to, they were forced away by the horrible bitey things. 

"There is one other spot, one last hope for us yet on this little angry rock," said the big guy, and while his wife and his catball friend were harried, they pressed on to the next destination. 

They picked their way carefully along another dirt road, their scoots rattling and battling along the rocks and the sand of the barely civilized region.  Finally, at the end of the road, peace awaited them.  A narrow beach, Wasque, with a big sand dune island just offshore, and a little beyond that, the very tippy tip of Katama Beach on the bigger island stretched out beyond.  And there were no bugs to feast upon their hides, which was the nicest feature of all.  They had been all over the rock and finally, finally found the piece with peace.  They deployed their towels, dug their toes in the sands, and were able to relax. 

As the sun began to dip in the sky, it came time to take the adoraboat back to the big island, and then back to Vineyard Haven to return their noble steeds and head for home.  There was, of course, one last order of business to address before they could call their time complete.