Beach Memories

I have fond memories of days at the beach…sand between my toes, pockets full of tiny shells, brightly colored pails with which to create elaborate sandcastles. I grew up in the Catskill Mountain region of New York, and my family’s summer vacation destination of choice was Cape Cod, Mass. — close enough that we kids didn’t drive our parents too crazy on the trip up and just far and different enough to feel like a real “vacation.”

A Vacationer's Paradise

Cape Cod in the 1960s was a vacationer’s paradise. Touristy, yes, but not yet full of restaurant chains and upscale stores. No Hardrock Café, no Starbucks, no Borders. The cape held great charm with its grey and white houses painted with bright seaside colors—blue, pink, turquoise, yellow. Main streets of the small towns catered to tourists with every type of souvenir available including little Cape Cod glass items and, my favorite saltwater taffy.

We stayed at little group of cottages in Hyannis called the Silver Sands with quick access to the beach. The little towns and beaches were full of these “seaside” cottages, some not a seaside as others. I don’t remember much about them except there were two rooms and I shared one room with my grandmother, great aunt and little brother…a tight fit, but we didn’t mind.

Days at the Beach

The town was not too far from the famed Hyannis Port, vacation retreat for the Kennedy clan. I remember once it was rumored the president and Jackie were in town and my mom drove us out to try to catch a glimpse of them. I don’t recall seeing anything but my mom swore she thought she saw the president walking on the distant beach.

We spent our days on the beach, of course. My brother and I busied ourselves making sand castles and collecting mussel and clam shells while chasing the tide in and out along the shore. At the time, I wondered at the adults’ “boring” routine. They just sat around on their towels and beach chairs talking, only jumping up occasionally to take a dip in the ocean.

When I was big enough to read, my father bought be a seashell identification book so that back home we could spend time together identifying and categorizing our beach finds. I recall one summer finding a recently deceased conch on the beach — I still have the shell.

Going Back

I went back to Cape Cod a few years ago and the sights and sounds (and smells) hit me right away. The memories came rushing back. Things have changed here somewhat but the ocean still roars onto the shore and little kids chase the foamy water. This time I thought it best to leave the seashells where they lay but I did bring back a few boxes of saltwater taffy.

—Betty

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Cape Cod links:

There are several great tourism websites for Cape Cod. Visit Cape Cod is a good one as is Cape Guide.

Mouth watering for salt water taffy? Thanks to the web, we don't have to wait until summer vacation anymore! Check out Kandy Korner's site.

I can't mention Cape Cod without plugging one of the most fun and relaxing writers' conferences, the Cape Cod Writers' Conference held annually at Craigville beach.

For books on Cape Cod, the Brewster Bookstore in Brewster, Mass., has a great little list.

One of the best books about Cape Cod was The Outermost House by Henry Beston, a true classic of nature writing. The Henry Beston Society is campaigning to open a museum dedicated to the house and the author.

Ever since I wrote this reflection, the 1957 recording of Old Cape Cod, by Patti Page runs in my head.