Our Favorite Island

For well over a decade now, my family's favorite vacation spot has been the tiny beach town of Chincoteague. Lying off the coast of the Virginian mainland—and only a stone's throw away from the Maryland border—Chincoteague is a quaint, picture-perfect fishing village, protected from the roaring Atlantic by neighboring Assateague Island, home to both a National Seashore and a National Wildlife Refuge. With an eastern shore hugged by an old-fashioned, shop-lined Main Street and that small island charm that's difficult to summarize in any number of words, Chincoteague is where we go to escape, relax and enjoy life. As far as we're concerned, the place has got it all: a beautiful beach, diverse wildlife, incredible seafood served in a bevy of killer eateries and a healthy dose of history, culture and magic.

I was still in Singapore when my dad told me he had booked a room in the Island Motor Inn for a full week just about a month after I would touch down at Newark, so I immediately had something to look forward to! In the wee small hours of the morning on July 5th, we were en route, beating the traffic on our four hour journey to paradise.

  

Chincoteague, which has always enjoyed some degree of renown thanks to its out-of-this-world salt oysters, really skyrocketed to fame in the late 1940s, when children's author Marguerite Henry visited the island and wrote the perennial favorite Misty of Chincoteague, about a pony. You see, nearby Assateague is home to a herd of wild horses. The more romantic visitors like to believe these horses are descended from survivors of a shipwrecked Spanish galleon, which ran into rocks off the coast centuries ago. The legend says that a few horses swam to Assateague and adapted to life in the wild, eventually thriving and multiplying. A more plausible hypothesis links the horses to colonial mainlanders who realized they could avoid paying tax on their livestock by "hiding" them on the barren island.

Either way, about a hundred and fifty "Chincoteague ponies" call the southern portion of the island home. This figure has to be maintained in order to sustain the diverse natural flora and fauna of the refuge, and so each July, the Chincoteague Volunteer Fire Department rounds up the ponies, swims the lot of them over to town, parades them down Main Street and auctions off many of the foals before swimming the rest of the herd back. This celebration is called Pony Penning, when the island's body count (which can feel crowded on a normal summer's weekend with about 10,000 visitors) swells to 50,000!

My mom, sister and I first visited Chincoteague in 1998. The next year, we were back with Dad in tow. Truth be told, I think he loves it more than any of us, and I can scarcely recall ever seeing the old man as happy as I've seen him on this tiny haven of an island. For years, it was our standard Fourth of July spot.

Then, my freshman year at 'Nova, we decided to visit during October break, to check it out in a new season. My dad and I returned one year for Thanksgiving, and on my first trip back home after moving to Hong Kong, we drove down for a snowy five day sojourn between Christmas and New Year. The place is wonderful, no matter what time of year, and, although little things have certainly changed since that first trip, most of Chincoteague is—miraculously—the same.

True, the old swing bridge that was once the island's sole link to the mainland is now gone, replaced with a more modern, much less charming alternative. And old favorite dining spots, like Kelly's Dockside Fish Fry, the Landmark Crab House and Capt. Fish's, are long vanished, now untouchable culinary memories almost certainly better than their old reality. But almost everything else is just as it was, and, I hope, will be for all the years to come.

Even Lightning is still there, corralled in a pen on Taylor Street beside a quaint motel. Lightning swam over during Pony Penning Weekend in 1988. He was auctioned off and now spends his days basking in the sun, well fed and carefree. We've been bringing him apples and carrots for years. Even this trip, my dad and I must have stopped by to see him at least five times. It's strange, I suppose, two grown men paying visits to a horse, but it's an indelible aspect of any of our Chincoteague vacations.

My dad and Lightning

Our hotel of choice is the Island Motor Inn. It's a beautiful spot, sitting on the water overlooking Chincoteague Channel, with the iron skeleton of an old lighthouse marking a sandbar midway between the island and mainland. There's the waterfront dock where I used to fish for hours; there's the outdoor swimming pool where my sister and I used to play; and there's a perfectly placed hammock where I love to relax. "They polish the polish," Captain Barry told us on a boat cruise back in 1998, imploring us to stay there should we visit the island again. And except for that first trip, we've never stayed anywhere else.

The Island Motor Inn

In each room is a helpful book full of the telephone numbers and addresses of favorite island establishments. The first page introduces Chincoteague thusly:

"When the white man settled on the island it was known to the Indians as the 'beautiful land across the water.' Indeed, the Island is rich with history. There are no high rises on Chincoteague Island. The transportation of choice is the bicycle. The favorite trip is to Assateague Island where the famous ponies roam about. One would never know that this quiet peaceful Island, only seven miles long, would be a haven for its oyster beds and clam shoals and that this shellfish would be famous worldwide. During the winter, migrating ducks, geese and swans come by the tens of thousands to settle in the shadows of the 'vacationing tourists' who have returned to their jobs in the big cities. To visit Chincoteague Island is an experience one will never forget."



View down Chincoteague Channel from the Island Motor Inn

From the second-floor deck of the hotel, you have a perfect view of each morning's sunrise, a wonderful way to start the day. My dad, one of the earliest of early risers, would wake me up just as the show was starting, with the neighboring seafront homes mirrored in the water of the channel, and I loved opening my eyes to the stunning vista.

Its evening counterpoint, the Chincoteague sunset, is equally beautiful, the orange ball disappearing beneath the water around 8pm each night. For almost an hour after, the magic of evening twilight paints the sky impossibly beautiful hues of gold, visible from most parts of the island.

As far as restaurants go, you have it all here, from casual to elegant. Of course, even the best places don't enforce a dress code—it is a beach town after all—and the overall feel in the island's restaurants is a laid back one. A.J.'s on the Creek, with a screened-in porch on its namesake stream, is always memorable. Just across Maddox Boulevard is The Village, another old-time favorite. At either of these places, you can't go wrong ordering the daily specials, fresh catches from local waters that never seem to fail.

Bill's, on Main Street, is a homey establishment. It's where we enjoyed a Thanksgiving feast that year we were in town for the autumn holiday. And although I always insist on a dinnertime visit to Bill's, the place it's at its best for breakfast, with delicious blueberry pancakes or maybe a nice crab omelet.

Etta's is another winner. I've always considered their crab cake to be the best I've ever had. To boot, it's on secluded East Side Road, with a view over the water to the red and white lighthouse on Assateague. But this time, the normally good food had escalated to something quite extraordinary. We wound up having three dinners there, and my dad and I both ranked it our favorite. Bacon-wrapped dates, crab imperial-stuffed mushrooms, fresh swordfish, scallops, and—of course—the world's best crab cakes.

Tableside view from Etta's

And this trip, we tried a new place called the Crab Shack. Breathing new life into Kelly's old venue, the casual restaurant with its outdoor deck was perfect for a relaxed lunch. It's nice to know that some changes to the island are for the better. I'll surely return to the Crab Shack on future visits. The soft shells my dad and I had there were one of the culinary highlights of this trip.

The Crab Shack

But, as I said, way before there was Misty, there were those oysters. Chincoteague salt oysters, they're called, and they're famous the world over. You can walk into swanky raw bars across the globe and find them. Yes, they're pretty much the best oysters I've ever had. On the half shell, fried, stewed, Rockefellered... No trip to Chincoteague—no, make that no day in Chincoteague—is complete without generous heaps of them. The oyster trade was so important, mind you, that Chincoteague actually sided with the North during the American Civil War, to avoid losing valuable business partners.

Oysters, oysters everywhere!

You can find the signature bivalves pretty much anywhere on the island, and after fifteen years of visiting, I have my favorite spot for each incarnation. A.J.'s has the best oysters Rockefeller; Bill's fries them better than anywhere else; but it's Captain Barry who wins the gold medal... on his boat tour (which has changed over the years as the winds and tides have shifted the submarine geography of Chincoteague) he always fits in a visit to a dock or marsh where the oysters thrive. He'll chip a few off, or grab some from the salty grass, and shuck them right then and there, serving the freshest oyster you'll ever find. I remember my mom saying it was the best one she'd ever had in her life on our first trip, but of course twelve year old Paul wouldn't have touched one. Now, each visit, I try to make up for my pre-teen stupidity.

In those days, Chincoteague's biggest culinary draw for me and my sister was ice cream. And some things never change! The Island Creamery has about thirty homemade flavors, and it might be my favorite ice cream anywhere. Toppings are almost unnecessary here, the ice cream itself is of such high quality. Second up is Mr. Whippy, a soft serve place that whips up a McFlurry-esque concoction called a Cyclone, with about a dozen mix-in options. Muller's is located on Main Street, in a historic house bedecked with curios and antiques. Although the ice cream is Turkey Hill, the old-fashioned surroundings and creative combinations still make it a great place. The first night, I ordered a special peanut butter and bacon sundae—weird and wonderful. The new kid on the block is B.Y.O.C. (Build Your Own Cookie) where you start with one of any variety of homemade cookies, top it with a scoop of ice cream and finish it off with your choice of toppings. Maybe Chincoteague isn't the healthiest place for a vacation, but it's surely one of the most delicious.

Muller's Old Fashioned Ice Cream Parlour

Captain Barry's tour is still the highlight of each trip. It's impossible to think of Chincoteague for long before inevitably remembering some great moment on his Back Bay Excursion. As he sails around the sand bars, temporary islands, salt marshes and waterways, he injects doses of history, local color and trivia. And, best of all, the transient nature of the tidal estuary means that the tour changes every time. For a few successive years in the early 2000s, Pelican Island was a favorite stop. Then one year, we boarded the boat and were informed that the island had vanished under the tides. Of course, new ones sprung up. Some of these, too, have since disappeared, but there's always something to explore, and Barry is ready to tweak his tour whenever the need arises.

Over the years, we've gone digging for clams, bird watching, crabbing, beach combing and fishing. But since Barry's tour is only offered in the summertime, this was my first opportunity in a good many years to once again savor every moment on his excursion.

Sometimes I'm torn about singing Chincoteague's praises. I love it and all, of course, but part of me wants to keep it a Parisi family secret. I was half-elated and half-enraged a few years back when AOL ranked it America's Number One Beach Town in a well-publicized online poll. Captain Barry and the other "Teaguers" (as locals are known)  have come up with their own way to keep too many tourists from flooding in. "Just keep telling everybody the mosquitoes are terrible," he told us.

A t-shirt in one of the town's many souvenir shops

Chincoteague's Main Street is home to my favorite part of town. Although the thoroughfare actually stretches all along the seven mile length of the island, it's the quaint downtown that wins me over every time. There's the red bricked fire house, the sweet Sugarbakers, the antique shops and decoy stores, Bill's Seafood Restaurant and the art deco cinema, with Misty's hoof prints immortalized in the cement out front.

Further down is the Horse With No Name Gallery, owned by a wonderfully chatty lady named Zebie. In addition to the local art displayed on the walls, a stop in the gallery will give curious literary buffs a chance to chat with Zebie, daughter of Maureen Beebe, who is featured as one of the main characters in Misty. (Author Henry based her tale on Maureen and her brother Paul, and Maureen, now in her mid-70s, still lives on the island.)

Outside the Horse With No Name Gallery

Turning right at the delightful Main Street Coffee House, you find yourself on Maddox Boulevard, which traverses the island from east to west, lined with t-shirt shops, miniature golf courses, restaurants and ice cream parlors. As the road stretches across the island, eventually you come to the bridge to Assateague. Crossing it and continuing towards the beach, you pass the salt marshes where the ponies graze, the entrances to the various nature trails, and all the wildlife for which the island has been federally protected since the 1960s.

The Refuge

The Refuge is a nature lover's Shangri-La, with a plethora of trails through woodlands and wetland, past colorful plants and all kinds of animals. You can stroll the Wildlife Loop, or trek into the marshes or make your way up to the iconic lighthouse. Sunrise, midday, sunset: there is always something to see, and it's always beautiful and peaceful.

Red-winged Blackbird on the Wildlife Loop



Finally you come to Tom's Cove Beach, facing the open sea. I braved the cold surf only once this trip, our first full day. After three and a half years swimming in Southeast Asian waters, the icy Atlantic was truly shocking. I felt like a member of the Polar Bear Club, and I don't think I've ever swam in colder water! My dad loved it, but after my first dip, I was content to sit in the sand the rest of the week. Thankfully the weather was, for the most part, gorgeous, and I loved sunbathing, walking along the water and reading. I re-read F. Scott Fitzgerald's Pat Hobby Stories that first day, then started A Passage to India, surely ranking among the best books I've ever read. Before the trip was over I was engrossed in Cloud Atlas, which I picked up at Sundial Books on Main Street knowing I'd finish Passage before vacation's end.  

As a special surprise treat, our final night's dinner at Etta's happened to include live music from local Ron Cole, singing Sweet Baby James, Desperado, Country Roads, Mack The Knife and many other great songs. Tasty food, solid tunes and just being with my dad... It was an awesome last night of the trip.

In the end, it was a peerless week. Enjoying putting my feet in the sand, admiring interesting-shaped clouds that would drift by, following the flight path of a bird just a bit longer than usual. Friday to Friday, relaxing, nostalgic, entrancing. And, as usual when I come back, I can't wait to return. But, oh, the mosquitoes were really a terror this trip! ;)