To the Editor:
After yet another town meeting last week, where private landowners repeated the same tired, and frankly boring, narrative, I found myself reflecting on what’s been gained and what’s been lost.
Over the past few years, a small group of private landowners on Chappaquiddick has pulled off what many feared: a quiet takeover of land and access that once belonged to all of us. Since at least 2023, they’ve secured exclusive control over some of the Island’s most treasured fishing and shellfishing areas — waters and trails that generations of Islanders, visitors, and families have respected, protected, and loved.
They’ve done it through legal maneuvering, selective enforcement, and relentless obstruction. Gates locked. Roads blocked. Regulatory decisions appealed or delayed. Public oversight ignored. And all the while, they’ve rebranded themselves as “protectors of the land.”
But the truth is harder to ignore: decks on fragile coastal banks — some coated in chemical preservatives. Seawalls reshaping the shoreline. Trees and brush cleared for private views. Habitats fragmented. And the public steadily pushed out.
In 2024, the strategy went even further. We didn’t just lose vehicle access — we lost walk-on access. For most of the summer, the Wasque stairs were completely shut down. No fishing. No hiking. No connection to the coastline that defines this community. Walk-on access wasn’t restored until August 17. The peak of summer — lost not to storms, but to strategy.
So what have they gained? Privacy. Power. Property value.
And what have we lost? Access. Tradition. Trust.
This isn’t just about permits or policy — it’s about a community being slowly erased by a well-funded, well-lawyered few who believe they deserve more than the rest of us.
We urge town leadership to see what’s happening — to look past the theater, stand up to narrow private interests, and recommit to serving the broader community. We’re not just losing trails and beaches — we’re losing who we are.
Once again, here are my three simple questions:
Do you use the beaches where we’re fighting to preserve access?
Do you own a business that depends on that access?
Does your happiness on the Island depend, in some way, on that access?
My answer is yes to all three.
If you said yes to even one, this matters to you too.
And if you said no to all three — it still should. What’s being lost is too important to ignore.
I didn’t write this to be pessimistic, or just to talk about what’s been taken. I wrote it to explain the broader strategy behind it, and where we stand today.
The truth is, decisions are being made. The wheels of government are turning — slowly, but surely. And despite the noise, the narratives, and the smokescreens, I’m more optimistic than I’ve been in years.
Why?
Because the public interest is finally breaking through. Both the town and the state are paying sharper, more serious attention. Town boards are beginning to understand that this isn’t just about sand and vehicles — it’s about protecting something essential to the Island’s identity. New voices, on committees and in town offices, are demanding transparency, action, and results.
Stay loud. Stay engaged. Stay optimistic.
The soul of Chappaquiddick isn’t lost — it’s just waiting for all of us to fight for it.
Peter Sliwkowski
Edgartown
