Early in the morning on Katama Bay, a rosy sunrise lights the sky above Chappaquiddick as cormorants and seagulls loiter on docks and anchored boats bob on lapping waves. The Island is still mostly quiet, but at the town landing parking lot, truck after truck pulls in and gear is unloaded, waders pulled on, boats pulled in from their anchorage. Farmers rise early, after all, and despite appearances, the bay is home to one of the Island’s most thriving agricultural industries.

Sara Brown

The schooner Charlotte delivers a cargo of supplies and hope.

Nat Benjamin

When I arrived at the beach on November 3, 1979 this message was scratched into the dirt of the parking lot: LUCIANO WAS HERE, 22, 28, 36.

That was Luciano Rebay’s way of telling us that he had beached three large stripers on his annual Election Day pilgrimage to the Vineyard from Columbia University, where he was a brilliant and popular professor of Italian literature. On the Vineyard he was renowned by those who knew him as a skilled and dedicated surf fisherman of unbounded energy and enthusiasm.

Kib Bramhall

In honor of the seventieth Martha’s Vineyard Striped Bass and Bluefish Derby, we sent fishing legend Janet Messineo out trolling for fish tales. Then, in honor of the fortieth anniversary of Jaws, we chummed the waters ourselves for a couple of good shark stories. The result? Well, you should have been here that time when, holy crap...you wouldn’t have believed it....

You can spend more than $1,000 on a fly reel. But who needs it? Charlie Blair and I each caught derby fly-rod-record fish on reels that cost $25.

Kib Bramhall

Everett Poole has a simple plan to fix the Island. But first you have to get him to slow down enough to tell you about it.

Mollie Doyle

Seventy years ago this August, V-J Day set up a string of events that led me to the Vineyard and altered my life forever. When victory was announced, my mother made plans to visit her parents, who were vacationing at the Harborside Inn in Edgartown, and we set out the next day, taking the Cape Codder train from Grand Central Station in New York to Woods Hole, where we would board the Vineyard ferry. The streets of New York were littered with confetti and other leftovers from the uproarious victory celebration, and the train crew was still celebrating.

Kib Bramhall

Forty years ago Jaws put the Vineyard (masquerading as an island called Amity) and white sharks on the same Hollywood map. The celluloid great white shark that terrorized beachgoers gave sharks a bad rap, and swimmers reason for pause, for years. But interest in real sharks, especially the whites – the official name for the species does not include the “great” – has been on the rise in recent years, and today would-be Quints and Brodys would need more than a bigger boat before chumming the water for a shark. They’d need a permit.

Sara Brown