November 12, 1987 - East End: An OverviewEast End: An Overview
By PAUL STOUTENBURGH
It is surprising how most of us are
literally tied to the land. Yet there
are those who have freed themselves
by becoming flyers. In my youth I,
too, had learned to fly but then get-
ting married and raising a family in
those days left few funds for keeping
it up. Today I once again had the op-
portunity to get off the ground but
this time my son was the pilot. For
those interested in the world around
them, it is a great way to see the
panorama of expansion throughout
our East End.
The first thing I noticed as Peter's
plane roared down the runway into a
slumbering southwest breeze was the
paved surface rather than the old
bumpy grass runway I remember
and, of course, the plane itself was
bristling with instruments that were
neither dreamt of nor invented when
I flew. The familiar part that one
never forgets is the turbulence of the
air, something like the waves of the
sea. Once understood, it too is ac-
cepted as part of flying.
We were to pick up friends at
Brookhaven Airport, a short hop to
the west. The sparkling water below
to our south seemed so timid and
calm. Yet if you looked close enough
along the beach there were strings of
white waves moving to the east. The
surf was running.
From the air you could see most of
the fall colors had either been blown
away in last week's storm or through
attrition had turned to a rusty
brown. Occasionally there still could
be seen a clump of color here and
there but even that lacked fall's
usual glow.
We landed and after a short greet-
ing were airborne again with our
friends. This time we headed along
the south shore. Smith Point Bridge
moved astern leaving the natural
dune and beach area that has taken
the abuse of Mother Nature through
eons of time. Like a living thing it
has moved, been washed over, filled
in, revegetated and yet -- untouched
by man -- still continues to do its job
of protecting the inner bay and main-
land from the abuse of the sea.
Moriches Slips By Below
Moriches Inlet with its rock jetties
slid by. We could see a few surf
fishermen had ventured out by beach
buggy in hopes of picking up some
blues. As we moved eastward, the
scene changed drastically. There
were homes along the beach or was
there a beach? The surf was rolling
right up underneath the homes. We
couldn't believe our eyes. House after
house was standing high on stilts
with the water boiling below. Could
it be an extra high tide with the full
moon? I remember seeing the area
from the ground last year and there
was water in front of the homes but
nothing like this. At one section it
seemed as if the ocean had come up
to what was once Dune Road. We
looked at each other in awe but you
can't linger when flying and so we
continued eastward.
Shinnecock Inlet passed beneath
and I could see the new County Dock
with its fishing boats tied up. I'll bet
they stayed in during those windy
days of last week. Now we had time
to look more in detail at the spread-
ing new homes below us. It seems as
if every other house had a swimming
pool. It's so obvious from the air to
Focus ou
Nature
see the aquamarine spots dotting the
landscape. This was not a phe-
nomenon only of the big houses
along the beach for later we'd see
them throughout the land. There
seemed to be pools of blue wherever
we looked.
Some place along the way we saw
a huge earthen pit with what looked
like water in the center. I think it
was in East Hampton. We circled and
dropped down for a closer look. It was
a landfill being constructed with a
new black plastic liner. A sign of
things to come for sure. Once again
man is slowly realizing he no longer
can continue to function as before for
now we know dumps (or in today's
world landfills) are polluting our pre-
cious water supply.
Further on we left New York's
furthest point east with Montauk
light standing on the brink of the
sea. Tiny boats below with their
white wakes streaming out were i
probably rushing to the fishing
grounds. Others already were trol-
ling hoping to pull aboard the glis-
tening, snapping, thrashing blues.
Headed for Block at 3000 Feet
Now we were in haze and the plane
seemed to hang in space with no re-
ference points at all. Peter worked a
few digital readouts on the instru-
ment panel, checked a chart in his
lap and we flew on at 3000 feet. No-
thing but the roar of the engine could
tell us we were moving. Occasionally
the crackling of the radio told me we
were in contact with Block Island
and sure enough as we dropped down
-- there it was.
We had breakfast at the little
snack bar at the edge of the airport
and then got a cab for a tour of the
island. This was to be a treat for our
friends and they were looking for-
ward to it. The island is back to nor-
mal like most of our East End towns
seeing the summer madness has left.
The stone walls and empty roads
with now strong winds gave us an in-
kling of what life must be like here
year round.
They say Block Island has 360
freshwater ponds and I almost be-
lieve it for it seemed at every turn
there was a little hollow with water
in it. To help locate these ponds, the
scarlet berries of the black alder win -
terberry punctuated each spot. These
alders love to have their feet in wet-
ness. Even from the air when we
came in we could see this concentra- .
tion of color wherever this handsome
shrub grew.
At one spot we called to our driver
to stop at the edge of the sea. There
was a concentration of gannets feed-
ing close in shore. A more spectacu-
lar sight I've never seen. These hand-
some white birds with black- tipped
wings and a wing span of over six'
feet were diving for fish. Like a pro-
jectile they would hit the water,
sending up a geyser of spray.
One after the other they'd plum-
met from above. First their wings
would be half folded to help guide
them and then at the last moment
they would completely fold along the
body as the bird rocketed into the
dark water below. They'd stay down
The Suffolk Times /November 12, 1987 /Page 9A
Photo by Paul Stoutenburgh
WEST CREEK, NEW SUFFOLK - -From the air one can see the
changes that are fast overtaking our East End. Hopefully our creeks
can stand up under these seemingly endless pressures.
below for five or six seconds before
popping to the surface. We watched
for five or 10 minutes spellbound at
their dazzling display, reluctant to
move on.
We often see these birds offshore
but seldom as close as they were
today. Nothing could top that. Later,
as we took off, the red berries of the
black alder seemed to glow below us
and way off in the distance in our
imagination we could still see the
plummeting gannets. It was a day to
remember.
9
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