by Steve “Tuna” Tornovish
Never look a gift horse in the mouth. A curious saying, right? Evidently it was semi-common back in once-upon-a-time land for one person to grace a friend or relative with a large, four-legged draft animal. The receiver of such a fine gift would be considered rude if they then examined the teeth of their newly acquired horse to determine the resale value of said beast. It’s good to have some context, right?
So, with this cliché in mind, I have decided to avoid digging too hard into the circumstances that led to the recent opening of Great Point to us fishing types. You see, for years now – YEARS!! – the tip of Great Point has been closed to humans. How come, you ask? Well, hard to say exactly why, but the common reason given involved the protection of seals. Presumably, some eggheads in Washington, DC declared with many harumphs, wherefores, and other fancy sounding proclamations that seals were to be protected and Nantucket fishers could go kick rocks. The area was fenced off. Signs from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service were posted threatening dire consequences should anyone dare venture into the now protected area.
The USFWS website paints a picture: “Nantucket National Wildlife Refuge is one of eight refuges that comprise the Eastern Massachusetts National Wildlife Refuge Complex. This remarkable refuge located on the very tip of the Coskata- Coatue Peninsula, where the land meets the sea, and the Nantucket sound and Atlantic Ocean merge. The refuge draws many visitors with some of the best saltwater fishing in the northeast as well as excellent wildlife watching and photography.”
The USFWS website sure makes it seem wonderful, right? But the reality was that no one who wasn’t a fish consuming, webbed claw sporting blubbery mammal could access this “remarkable refuge.” That wonderful saltwater fishing? Yeah, don’t even bother to ask. You couldn’t get any closer than four hundred yards to it. The most pristine fishing spot on our beloved island had been awarded to the seals, who promptly turned it into a giant seal toilet. It was enough to make a guy want to throw large containers of tea into the harbor, I tell ya!
This prohibition lasted for (um, my best guess) about twenty years. Island fishers were stuck in the wilderness like Moses and his crew, longing for the day when they would be allowed to enter the Promised Land. Then, on a recent beautiful mid-September afternoon, word spread throughout the island’s fishing community like a wind-driven wildfire: The Point is open! The real Point! Fishers could now park and hike out to that beautiful place where the Great Point rip meets the land, free from the threat of federal prosecution. My fishing buddies sent a collective text cheer that reverberated across Nantucket: so much winning!
Hearing this joyous news was one thing, but I just had to see for myself. I took a drive out there the very next morning with my buddy Josh Sandsbury and his uncle Carll who was visiting his hometown with his wonderful wife, Kim. We parked and stepped hesitantly through the new opening in the fence towards the Point. I felt like an East German resident crossing into the previously forbidden West after the fall of the Berlin Wall. It was glorious, provided you could ignore the lingering perfume of seal droppings.
Carll is a year or so older than I am: we grew up in the glory days of Nantucket beach fishing. We both remembered the Great Point trips from our childhoods, seeing fishers lined up shoulder to shoulder as they tossed homemade plugs into the rip. Birds would dive, bluefish and bass churned the water, scattering bait in all directions. Dinners were caught. We kids would marvel at the heightened excitement of our fathers as they maneuvered for a spot to cast into the melee. It was an amazing time. I never understood how we allowed those opportunities to be stolen from us with the stroke of a bureaucrat’s pen. Yeah, I’ve carried this resentment for a long, long time.
It was somewhat surreal to once again stand at that magic point where the Great Point rip begins. I briefly imagined the U.S. Marines planting the American flag atop Suribachi. The feeling was victorious in many ways, even if it was a victory that I had not fought for. I decided to simply take the win and savor the moment.
This was a long overdue reunion. An island kid’s legacy returned. A place where new generations can earn their own memories as they fish with their loved ones. Great Point is a treasure that had been stolen. It is ours once again. To whomever made this happen, please accept my deepest gratitude. To those who have never experienced the wonders of fishing at the base of Great Point Rip, get out there! It is a beautiful gift. I have no need to check out the teeth on this particul ar gift horse.
Steve “Tuna” Tornovish is a Nantucket native who has spent his life fishing from the beaches of his beloved island. He loves to introduce clients to the joy of fishing with his Nantucket Island Fishing Adventures: stevetuna.com