Brompton on Nantucket, Part II: Arrival

It's 9:45 a.m., and life is good on the slow ferry to Nantucket.  I'm sitting in a booth with my Brompton on the floor next to me and my bag, helmet, and Kindle on the table.

As Cape Cod fades into the distance, we pass by other ships going to-and-from Nantucket, like this freight-only ferry also run by the Steamship Authority:

It isn't long before we're completely out of sight of land.

I've heard it said that the sea is the greatest wilderness there is, which always seemed like an odd statement to me.  But you definitely feel it on the Eagle, as it gently rocks from side to side over the vast white-capped ocean.

"Well, at least I'm doing better than on my first trip," says a man into his cell-phone sitting in a booth nearby, apparently fighting off seasickness as he works on his computer.  "I decided to stay in my truck last time.  Big mistake!"

As the Eagle rolls over the ocean's gentle swells, it does take a bit of vigilance to keep walking in a straight line.

At 10:30 a.m. I head to the snack bar for lunch.  It's early, but I'd been up since 4:30 and I decide I'd rather spend my time on Nantucket bicycling than searching for a place to eat.  I purchase a tuna sandwich, chips, and a diet coke and bring it back to my booth.  It's a really good sandwich!

Our time out-of-sight of land is short, but it's just long enough to leave thoughts of the mainland behind as the first hints of Nantucket come into view outside the smudgy window.

They soon take shape as Nantucket's fantastically remote Great Point Lighthouse...

From that moment on, it's as if a whole new world unfolds before our very eyes.

After our two-hour ferry crossing, it's a bit of a shock seeing not only a sandy island emerge from the horizon, but a busy town.

We make a gentle turn around the little harbor light...

... and slowly approach the Nantucket Steamship Authority terminal.

And with a very nice thud, the Eagle has docked, lines and ramps are secured by the Steamship Authority staff -- and we're officially on Nantucket!

After carrying my Brompton and bag off board, I being the quick process of unfolding the bike and attaching the bag to the frame's carrier block as trucks unload from the ferry's hold.

"That's so cool!" I hear someone call out from above as I complete the Brompton unfolding show.  I look up, and see that it's coming from a porter on the ferry.  "I've been wondering how that works for the whole trip!"

I call out my thanks, hop on my Brompton, and ride into town.

Brompton on Nantucket, Part I: The Ferry

Nantucket.  It's a wild place.

Sure, there are cars on the island...

... and shops and people in the main town ...

... and while you won't find a Walmart, Best Buy, or Marshall's, there is a Stop and Shop somewhere on-island, tucked away amid all those lovely unpainted shingled houses.  But having arrived on Nantucket by way of the two-hour open-sea crossing of the Steamship Authority ferry...

... I can't shake the thought that everything on this 45 square-mile island of dunes, moors, and windswept trees was brought here.  Bricks, cobblestones, cars, shutters, books, radiators, toasters ... they all made an ocean crossing at some point, maybe on an earlier trip of the same boat my Brompton and I took on this cool October morning.

If you don't live in New England, then Nantucket might be one of those exotic islands you've always heard of but can't quite place on a map.

But don't worry!  Even if you know Nantucket sits 30 miles off the coast of Cape Cod, when you're standing on the Hyannis ferry dock looking out into the harbor with your Brompton in one hand, a Brompton bag and bike helmet in the other, and a Steamship Authority ticket in your pocket ...

.... Nantucket feels more like a vague idea of a place than an actual place itself, existing somewhere unseen on the other side of the horizon.  Here on Cape Cod, "Nantucket" only makes itself known through the hard-working, sturdy instruments of civilization it sends out over the ocean...

... and into the skies, as small Cape Air propeller planes fly overhead, making their way to a quiet corner of Boston Logan Airport's Terminal C.

To truly experience Nantucket, you must have a little faith in faraway places.

On the morning of my own one-day Nantucket adventure, my Brompton and I arrived at the Steamship Authority's Hyannis terminal in a Zipcar at 8:00 a.m....

... and purchased round-trip passage on the Eagle at the ticket office.

There was a high-speed catamaran ferry option too, cutting the one-way trip down to an hour.  In fact, the speedy passenger-only Iyanough was leaving port just as I arrived.

But on all my trips to Nantucket, I've always chosen the large, lumbering, slow ferry.  I like having time to enjoy the ocean crossing, and you get to see all kinds of people on the big boat, with cars and huge trucks packed in the hold. Tourists, construction workers, truck drivers, and contractors all ride the slow ferry as they head to work or play on this historic Massachusetts island.

Here are two more photos of the Eagle as I watched it come into port after its first Nantucket-to-Hyannis journey of the morning:

Cars and trucks poured out of the boat like a magician pulling an impossible number of rabbits out of a hat. But as for my rented Zipcar, it would remain at rest in the Steamship Authority's parking lot until we reunited later that evening.  Traveling light with a folding bicycle, helmet, and bag, I had all I needed to explore Nantucket that day.

Walking out to the dock around 8:45 a.m., there weren't many people waiting to board for our 9:15 departure on this chilly Monday morning...

... but passengers driving vehicles would later join us on the ferry once they parked in the boat's hold and climbed up the interior staircases.

As I picked up my neatly folded Brompton, I was a little concerned the ferry's porter wouldn't let me carry it on board.  Bicycles normally require a special $7 bicycle ticket and must be stored downstairs with the cars and trucks. So I actually bought the $7 ticket as a gesture of good faith (kindness opens up all sorts of doors, cheapness does not).  As I showed the bicycle ticket to the porter at the foot of the entrance plank though, he said:

"Oh, you didn't need to buy that."  Pointing to the Brompton, he added, "You can just carry that on with you.  Have a good trip."

Nice!

I happily walked onto the ferry and climbed the stairs to the main passenger level.  Inside there was a cafe selling breakfast items, coffee and hot chocolate (both very popular on this chilly morning!), sandwiches, chips, soup, cookies, and candy.

 CNN was on the TV, loud enough to hear, but not blaring...

...and an area of comfortable airline-style chairs was in the bow.

Black-and-white historic Nantucket photos hung on the walls...

...and large booths lined the side and rear sections of the boat.

The ferry may not look luxurious, but that's what makes it so special.  With its formica-topped tables, sober decor, rumbling engines, and homey snack bar, the ferry is clean, comfortable, roomy, friendly, solid, and wonderfully, reassuringly utilitarian.  The Steamship Authority's Nantucket ferry is a tough Massachusetts workhorse, and I felt instantly at home. 

As the ferry slowly inched away from the dock, only a few passengers chose to face the cold winds of the outside decks.  But for those who did (like my Brompton and I, at least for the first 15 minutes or so) we were treated to the beautiful scenery of Hyannis harbor...

... while the ferry did its 180-degree turnaround.

The top deck was pretty empty, something you would never see on a warm summer day...

...but I loved climbing up there and watching the last bit of sandy Cape Cod land pass by...

... as the Eagle pointed its bow toward Nantucket and headed out to sea.