Article and Photos by Sherry Amatenstein
At my first glimpse of Sconset (as Siasconset is called by natives), for only the third time in my life “it” happened. It is an instantaneous visceral tingle of “connect” with a place. It feels like I’ve known this stretch of land and sea – water is always involved! – my entire life. 
The first two locations that evoked this reaction were The Berkshires in Massachusetts, and Big Sur in California. Those are places I’ve revisited over the ensuing decades when possible. When impossible, I close my eyes and open myself to the sights and feelings engendered by these spiritual homes.
I never thought another place would trigger this long-dormant inner pull.
Then I wandered into Sconset – the soupcon of visual bliss situated on the eastern most tip of Nantucket Island, 30 miles south of Cape Cod.
From a community of fishing shanties built in the 1600s, this village is now home to rose-covered, gray-shingled summer cottages, an unspoiled sandy beach with water that twinkles invitingly, and a 100-year-old narrow lane made of sea shells that is open solely to foot traffic. The center of town has a quaint, one-horse feeling; venture into Sconset Market, where you can score great ice cream. For more substantial fare locals and visitors flock to the Summer House Restaurant.
But the root of my spiritual communion is the uber-spectacular “Bluff Walk”, a walking trail that leads right through the backyards of some the Sconset’s uber-opulent summer homes.
I am certainly not the first to be inspired by this town. Herman Melville’s 
Ismael set sail from Nantucket: “There was a fine boisterous something about everything connected with that famous old island.”
There is a copy of Melville’s Moby Dick manuscript in the Whaling Museum (www.nha.org/sites). The museum, sitting inside a former candle factory, houses a 46-foot-long sperm whale skeleton that hangs from the ceiling, and currently offers screenings of Ric Burns’ Nantucket. But for me the highlight was the rooftop observation deck – the perfect point from which to view the harbor and also the reason Nantucket has been coined ‘the gray lady- – a sea of gray signature cedar shake shingle houses.
While Nantucket has a reputation for being a playground for the one percent, its 800 plus pre-Civil War homes led to its designation as a National Historic Landmark. Stroll down Main Street to view some of these homes up close – in particular Three Bricks aka three identical Georgian style brick homes built by one of the richest whale merchants of his time. Though be mindful of the uneven cobblestones.
Nantucket’s shops sport goofy names on sturdy signs – i.e. Annie and the Tees; Three Girls and A Dog. At Isobel and Cleo, located right off the ferry dock, you’ll find luxury handmade knitwear and locally made artisanal products. Abiding by the ‘there’s always room for fudge’ principle Aunt Leah’s Fudge offers free tastings of any flavor. My favorite: crunchy chocolate peanut butter. Best yet: they ship anywhere in the world.
Another irresistible lure is Nantucket’s beaches. Madaket Beach is famous for its rough surf and picture-perfect sunsets; The Jetties, popular for its proximity to town; Eel Point Beach is renowned for a unique assortment of seashells as well as its remote location on the western end of the island.
The B & B we stayed in was anything but remote. 21 Broad is the newly renovated version of the 142-year-old Nesbitt Inn, which was Nantucket’s oldest continuously operating lodging house. The current incarnation, steps from Main Street, blends Olde and New Nantucket.
Well, mostly new. The cozy rooms feature four-poster beds, rainfall, Vitamin-C infused showerheads, and iPad and IPod docking stations with white noise features.
However, the B & B has lovingly restored touches of its ornate Victorian past. And dotted around the lobby are harbingers to the more recent past: a 1400-foot Mahogany Desk and a bin that holds vinyl records that are actually played on the hotel’s turntable!
The breakfast juice bar include scones, cereals, mango smoothies, cheeses and other tantalizing munchies to be enjoyed while sprawled around the spacious outdoor courtyard. There I remained reading and snoozing for much of my stay.
On the last (slightly chilly) night, I sipped champagne, stared into the courtyard’s fire pit and dreamt of my next visit to Sconset so my heart could be stolen all over again.
Sherry Amatenstein, LCSW, is an author, therapist, journalist, writing professor and lover of travel and, of course, friendship! Her website is www.marriedfaq.com
