Open Writing

Long Island Sound, where I sail my boat, has been an enduring source of profit, pleasure and sustenance for thousands of years to an incredibly diverse group of users. Today, this large body of water, over 100 miles long and twenty wide at its widest, is a conduit for massive barges transporting oil, cement, gravel, coal and almost anything else a barge can transport. It supports a thriving commercial clamming and lobstering industry, and is home to some of the best oysters in the world, at least according to the chefs of New York, and who would argue with them?

Its fecund waters provide a seemingly inexhaustible supply of fish for sport fishermen: Bluefish, Striped Bass, Blackfish, Spanish Mackerel and the occasional Tuna and Shark. On some of my sailing trips, I have seen the waters literally boil with schools of bunker, a small, herring-like fish that is the main source of food for the rapacious Blues.

Aside from the commercial and sporting appeal of the Sound, its many harbours, marinas and yacht clubs are home to thousands of pleasure craft, from humble john-boats, to some of the largest and most opulent motor yachts. Sail boats abound in a multitude of sizes and designs: elegant Scandinavian yachts, flirty French boats, go-faster racing designs and commodious, slow, sailing cruisers like mine. Occasionally, a lovingly restored, old Herreschoff or Sparkman and Stevens classic will glide by.

The diversity of the Sound's users is well matched by the character of its shores on Long Island and Connecticut. On the Long Island side, the Sound stretches from frenetic Manhattan and the borough of Queens on the west end, approximately 120 miles to remote and lonely Plum Island and Montauk Point on the eastern tips of the twin "claws."

The western half of Long Island is densely populated and highly industrialized, but a water-borne visitor to one of the sleepy, peaceful and scenic harbours would never know. Northport, Huntington and Manhasset are all such places, but a short walk into the hustle and bustle of the towns will rapidly bring the visitor down to earth.

The New York tycoons and robber-barons discovered the Long Island shore in the 20's and 30's, and built magnificent weekend mansions in breathtakingly beautiful locations on the, so called, "Gold Coast." Today's Gatsbys are also building edifices there, though not quite as grandiose, but impressive nevertheless.

In their heyday it was customary for the likes of Vanderbilt, Guggenheim, Chrysler and Woolworth to commute back to the City on a Monday morning on their private, chauffeured boats, getting into their city clothes and having breakfast on the way. Some of these mahogany "commuter boats" have been lovingly preserved and are in use today, though not for their intended purpose, thanks to the helicopter.

The irony of Long Island Sound is that it is not strictly a sound at all. The definition of a sound is a body of water between the mainland and an island, and Long Island is not truly an island, bounded as it is by Manhattan's East River on its western end. In 1851, the U.S. Corps of Engineers started a 70 year-long project to open up a navigable passage at Hell Gate, known to the Dutch as Helegat, and connect the Sound to the East River, so it could be argued that Long Island is now just that.

But, more correctly, Long Island, at the time of its naming when it was discovered in 1614 by the Dutch navigator Adriaen Block, was a peninsular and the Sound was a strait. Long Peninsular Straight doesn't quite roll off the tongue, so I'm glad the Corps of Engineers was successful. To make matters worse, the erstwhile Sound is also an estuary, due to the confluences of several rivers along its length, but I'm not going to get into that.