Just to the south of Long Island lies a half-mile-wide and thirty-two-mile long barrier beach with a lighthouse, called Fire Island.
Long prior to Manhattan highrises and the Long Island Railroad, this lush landscape was the home of America's natives, who hunted and fished here. As early as 1653, FI started as a whaling station that continued for over a century. In 1825, after its construction, the FI lighthouse symbolized the first American landmark seen by many European immigrants on their way through New York Harbor. Then, all hell broke loose in the 1950s and it soon became a bohemian Shangri-la for escapees from the concrete jungle of Manhattan. Now, it is part of the National Park Service and bungalows dot the landscape for a few lucky residents or summer renters. In short, this place is paradise.
The National Park Service website presents several possibilities for the origin of the "fire" in Fire Island. The less colorful version cites references to an inlet name. Poor penmanship could have attributed to a mistaken reading of "fire" rather than "five" for the"Five Islands patented by William Nicholls in 1688 in what is now the western end of Fire Island." The racier theory involves pirates setting fire to the island to lure vessels to the shore, and the grasping-at-straws version blames poison ivy, "either for its red leaves in autumn or its fiery itch." As a tidbit for Long Island Trivial Pursuit, it may be useful to know that FI is the the ancestral home of one of the four signers from New York of the Declaration of Independence, the William Floyd Estate.
What makes FI somewhat unique is its accessibility--or, more accurately, its inaccessibility. Although visitors to the Robert Moses park and lighthouse to the west may visit that area by car, residents [with a few exceptions not worth disclosing here] and visitors may access the pristine beaches, beach rentals or homes, and the bars only by private boats or a ferry system. Once you arrive, if you are staying a while, you can use a little muscle to schlep your stuff by a wagon.
A grid of bicycle paths connects the villages and leads adventurers to coastline views of dunes and vegetation. The comfortable temperatures are why all the New Yorkers leave both Manhattan [and Florida] to spend their summers here.
While approaching the dock at Ocean Beach, melodies from Jimmy Buffett songs naturally float through my brain, and every muscle in my body instantly knows it is on vacation. However your summer unfolds, I hope you all have at least one day that feels this perfect,shared with family and friends.
