He's a Poet and He Knows It

Steve Ewing is one of my favorite Edgartonians. Steve and I go way back, to the days when he and his three brothers lived across the street and up the block in what was formerly the Emmulous Elliot house; the days when the Ewing boys, the Nevin kids, and I reigned terror upon the Main Street/Pease's Point Way neighborhood. Steve is a husband, father, friend, story-teller, water man (just for openers), and owns the very successful Aquamarine Dockbuilders, a company that has 600 accounts between Gay Head and Chappaquiddick.

Steve is pictured here at the Reading Room parking lot, Aquamarine's base of operations and Steve's home away from home. In the background is Steve's catboat, the Ocmulgee (as in the river in Georgia).

Steve is also Edgartown's Poet Laureate, a position that carries the responsibility of composing and then reading a poem at our annual town meeting, This link will take you to Steve's poem, To a Shucker.

To the Shad, by Steve Ewing

"When the shad bush blooms, the herring are running." That's what the old-time islanders say. [file photo, Tiasquam Valley, May 15, 2009]


This is a bit late, due to my not having noticed the attachment in Steve's e-mail a couple of weeks ago. The shad blooms have now passed; the white that now dots the landscape is beach plum.

To the Shad                                 


Each spring
I wait
So patiently
Until
One day
So gracefully
The shad
Displays
It’s
Early bloom
After herring
Flagged
By fluttering
Osprey
Leave silver scales
On low tide rocks
Near fresh pond runs
Sweet shad
O’re hangs
These pools
Discrete harbinger
Faithful
Hardy strong
And true
A feathery
Red brown leaf
Gently flushing
Small
White flowered
Blooms


Dedicated to Scott Ewing
April 25, 1960- February 15, 1985


Steve Ewing

The Town Clock Bell is Back

What luck. Good luck, that is. It just so happened that the town clock bell was re-installed on a day that I was in town; Friday morning, April 29, 2011, to be precise. It was fantastic to witness, too. The entire event, beginning with the perfect almost-May morning (following a few days of really nasty weather), to seeing some of the usual local suspects - on hand to photograph, ogle, admire, support, and report on this somewhat historic occurrence - to the precision with which the team raised the bell into the tower, was quite memorable. I even found the courage to climb up to the bell tower, something I had not done since I was a kid.

Related Edgartown News post, here

More photos, here. 





Greg Blaine, the bell's restoration man.





The crane approaches.






Christian Thornton and daughter.





Greg has unwrapped the bell, revealing shiny, newly-polished brass.














John Anderson was in charge of restoring the bell's large rope-pulley wheel.





A small crowd gathers.





The bell rope's newly restored rope-pulley wheel.






Greg and Steve Ewing talk shop.



















Readying the crane.











Father Nagle's porch offered a fine vantage point.























The bell will be carried aloft within this box and carefully inserted into the belfry.






Doris Ward
























Up, up, and away.





Almost home...





...closer...





Ah...












Dicky Brown




Gears






Home again.








Yours Truly, by Greg Blaine.


Photo by Greg Blaine.






Greg Blaine couldn't be more pleased with the results of this project, or prouder to have been a part of it. Well done, Greg. I'm sure Greg's dad, the late Jim Blaine, who passed down his metal-working skills to Greg, is smiling down on him.






The view down Main Street from the bell tower, to the court house, town hall, and beyond to the harbor.











Done.

Re-installing Edgartown's Town Clock Bell from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.

Timeless Yet Different

I'm still on a bit of a gray/black and white jag, inspired by my mother's poem, I guess, and egged on by the fact that her birthday was a couple of days ago (November 18).

More from one of my favorite haunts, the Reading Room (locals have been wondering for years, whatever do they read in that place?), also including one of my favorite Edgartonians, Steve Ewing; these from a recent gray and drizzly November day.

I think I gravitate to the harbor because it links me to the days of yore - the days of whale ships and sea commerce. There's something somewhat timeless about these harbor scenes, I believe. Timeless, yet a different configuration of boats, people, activities, and sky and sea conditions is to be found every time I venture down there, giving Edgartown Harbor - seemingly bleak to the casual or one-time observer at this time of year, I am sure - a particular dynamism and life.

Steve Ewing

 Steve Ewing

Steve Ewing is one of my favorite people. The way he greets me on the street always lifts me up, the affection we have for one another being based on a life-time of mutual admiration and shared history.

Steve and his three brothers, Doug, Colin, and Scott, grew up across Main Street and up a few houses from me, and Steve's father, Harvey, who wrote for the New Bedford Standard Times (I can see Harvey now, zipping in and out of town hall, on the trail of a hot story most likely, and I can hear his voice as if it were yesterday) was a fixture in town in my growing up years, as well as a good friend of my mother's (who also wrote for that paper for a while).

Steve's been building and repairing docks for years now, owns Aquamarine dock-building company, based down at Collins' Beach where I often run into him when I'm out and about. In addition to being an all-around good citizen, husband, father, hard-worker, and salt-of-the-earth, Steve's apparently got ink in his veins, too - inherited from Harvey, no doubt - as he is an accomplished poet (Doug's son, Ray, has taken up the mantle as well and is on his way to becoming a fine photojournalist).


The following poem, penned by Steve, was published in the Vineyard Gazette in December 2009 (I just love that he mentions Hinky Pease) and is used by permission here.
         
To a Shucker                                       

Green side up
Knife goes in
Cut it clean
Top shell off
Thumb on guts
One smooth swipe
Next the meat
Sweet delight
Eye in air
Mystic tale
Scallop king
Holy grail
Bloaters swell
Beans all night
Shuckers wage
The endless fight
Buckets build
Baskets shrink
Beers are drunk
Shells mound up
On and on
Scallops make
Winter’s business
Winter’s stake
Eye in air
Mystic tale
Scallop king
Holy grail
Hinky, Mark, Tommy too
The best of them
The best of you
Cut em clean
It all adds up

Money’s made
In every cup 
And pint
And pound
And gallon too
The more you make  
The more you do
— Steve Ewing

Steve, at work, captured on Tri-X, late '90s, after a hurricane, as I recall.

I think that's Dougie Benefit in the water.

Below: Collins' Beach