"Harry's Towing"

Nantucket Island
24 June 2002 (3:51 pm)

It was one of the more pleasant and relaxing vacations we’ve taken since becoming “empty nesters” (every vacation was fun for us when the children were still at home!) A week in a rented cottage on Nantucket Island. We slept and ate, walked and rode mopeds, enjoyed the sights and even did some painting. All in all, it was everything that a vacation should be, almost.
A former CEO of my company built his “retirement home” on Nantucket and I thought it would be interesting to see where he lived. So, one afternoon we looked him up in the phone book, got the address and headed out in our rented Toyota Camry to take a look. It was on the far side of the island, a part with which we were less familiar. But on a little island, how hard can it be? We drove by the home. Very impressive, but then David Farrell had done quite well. And as long as we were in an unfamiliar neighborhood, we thought we’d do some exploring.
Nantucket is a sand bar that peeks above the waves about a two-hour ferry boat ride from Hyannis Port off Cape Cod. Even the middle part of the island is sandy, but as you get closer to the ocean, “sandy” becomes sand “dunes” and finally beach. Driving on the dunes or beaches can be treacherous, so the island requires that a vehicle have a 4-wheel drive permit to reach these areas. A well-recognized sign marks places where only “permitted” vehicles are allowed. We always walked to the beach or drove to the dunes, so we never thought about needing anything but our feet and/or the Camry.
As we drove past the home we’d gone to see, the road continued to the west and so did we. It was a nice asphalt road that wound up and down and around wind-swept stretches of the island. Coming up over a hill, the asphalt suddenly turned into a solid dirt surface…not unusual in some of the residential areas where hard pavement and dirt roads switch back and forth. We were enjoying the sights. Birds, flowering bushes and clear blue sky. We didn’t notice that the dirt road was becoming less and less dirt and more and more sand. Coming down one slope and ascending another, the dirt part of the road was completely gone and we were on sand. I gave the Camry a little gas to be sure and get up the slope, but in a moment what little sand was sustaining us gave way and there we were, stuck with the bottom of the car resting on sand and wheels spinning, digging a nice little trench where traction became impossible.
What happened? Where was the sign, warning us that off-road permits were required?! Yikes! We’re stuck and not a house or a car in sight. Well, being a “problem-solver” and never afraid to take on a challenge, I figured that between the two of us there was enough of brains and brawn to get ourselves out this mess. We didn’t need help, I thought. We can handle this.
My first strategy was to try and scoop the sand out from underneath the car, allowing the wheels enough clearance to set us free. With only my hands as a tool, this was like bailing the Titanic. But, not to be outwitted, we placed a pad of drawing paper under the driving front tire thinking it would provide enough traction to clear the sand. As the wheel started to turn, the pages of the pad shot out from under the car like confetti and fluttered to the ground like leaves falling in autumn.
OK, time to get serious. I next wandered out into the surrounding brush looking for limbs and branches large enough to place under wheels. No go. Looking around us (now) in desperation, I noticed a small business card stapled to a post. “Harry’s Towing” it read, “Off Road Towing / Beach Towing”. What a coincidence! How did Harry know someone would be needing his services right at this spot? There were two reactions. The first was one of gratitude. “Thank goodness for Harry!” Without him we would now own a 2002 Toyota Camry buried somewhere in a Nantucket sand dune. The second reaction was, “Wait a minute! Where was the usual sign normally posted on these roads warning “Permit Vehicles Only?!” Did Harry have something to do with removing that warning sign and replacing it with his card?
Thank goodness for cell phones. And, I guess, thank goodness for Harry. By the way, all indications are that Harry is doing quite well on Nantucket. We think that’s his house on the beach next to our former CEO’s!