Martha’s Vineyard has culturally shifted since the 17th and 18th centuries, when agriculture was the primary economic driver of the year-round community, but the Island continues to be a hub for farms and the workers who tend them. The still-prosperous industry results in an influx of seasonal workers when the weather turns warm, which means an increased need for housing.
Three seasonal farm hands recently unpacked their bags of clothes, art supplies, and books into circular dwellings called yurts, which they were provided as their summer workplace accommodations. The wood-and-canvas shelters, which originated 3,000 years ago in Central Asia with nomadic tribes on the windswept planes, are one solution among many for an ongoing local crisis in affordable housing availability.
“I could not have gotten this job without having housing,” Isabel Villanueva, 31-year-old seasonal farm hand at Island Grown Initiative (IGI) and yurt dweller, told The Times on a recent Thursday afternoon. “The housing crisis around here is so real.”
At the IGI campus in Vineyard Haven, just past the pickup for Community Supported Agriculture produce shares and plots of community gardens, three yurts are propped up on sandy terrain. The structures are 16 feet in diameter and are manufactured by Pacific Yurts. They’re situated next to a small building that has a kitchen, bathroom, and dining area. In that shared space, a few bikes are stored in the entryway and a guitar is propped next to a dining table.
The three farm hands, who each live in an individual yurt, often meet for meals and coffee in the shared building. Since the yurts are out in the open and barely insulated, the heat can get intense, so the AC in the shared space has already come in handy for them.
IGI administrators pursued the yurts for seasonal workers while building year-round housing for their mainstay employees. The effort to build those units was substantial, and the cost to construct on the Vineyard is higher than on the mainland.
“We just knew that kind of expenditure was not realistic for seasonal employees. But with a farm, the workload really does shift and is so much greater in the summer,” Caroline Pam, co-executive director at IGI, said. “This is a perfect solution — a more cost-effective, affordable housing opportunity.”
Pam added that “in order to attract skilled, experienced people who want to learn about regenerative farming, it’s really hard to attract people to come for six months of the year without being able to provide housing.”
The other co-executive director of IGI, Noli Taylor, pitched the idea of yurts. She and her husband, Isaac, lived in one while their home was being built 20 years ago.
“It was such a wonderful space to live in,” Taylor told The Times. “We loved it. So that opened my eyes to the value of yurts, and I’m so glad that we’re now able to offer this housing to our seasonal farm staff.”
Yurts are not the first line of defense against a stark shortage in affordable units, but they are one option and an increasingly popular one. Across the country and in many corners of the Island, yurts have been touted as a possible housing solution, especially in areas with less severe weather. The size of the structures are comparable to small accessory dwelling units, but their impermanence and lower costs have made yurts a sought-after addition to backyards and workplaces.
“Everyone who’s tried to build housing here knows how difficult it is to make it work financially, and a solution like ours is practical for a farm environment,” Taylor said. “As a nonprofit with limited resources, finding affordable, creative solutions that also help our staff have healthy, humane lives is a priority for us.” She added that the Martha’s Vineyard Commission was supportive of the idea.
On the Island, workplace housing is scarce. Overcrowded conditions, last-minute Facebook posts on local housing groups, and even outdoor living in tents are all commonplace on the Vineyard when space gets tight in the summer for families and business owners looking to house employees. The relatively primitive dwellings are stark against the backdrop of extreme wealth. According to reports by the Martha’s Vineyard Commission, the average rent cost is $3,000 for a one-bedroom apartment in the off-season. On local sites that list short-term rentals, prices can be around $50,000 a month for a vacation stay, with some homes so lavish, visitors are charged in the hundreds of thousands for a brief visit.
Building is also an estimated 30 percent higher here than on the mainland, according to a phenomenon, which came up in talks around the Martha’s Vineyard Regional High School building project, called the “Island factor.” This difference is largely due to transportation costs.
The three yurts cost a total of $55,000 for IGI to purchase and $130,000 to install, much lower than the average construction costs to build a home. They required building inspector and town approval, but since they’re small and can be deconstructed, it was a less rigorous process. And at $500 a month, the lodging for the farm hands is a fraction of the rent average.
“They’re charging very little as far as Martha’s Vineyard rent prices go, and it’s really nice to roll out of bed and just be like: ‘I’m at work!’” Villanueva said. She added that their commute is a mere 30 seconds.
The other two farm hands, 31-year-old Lina Raciukaitis, from Worcester, and recent Kenyon College graduate Jen Novick, 22, said the yurts have made for rather easy living so far.
“It’s very spacious inside — like it’s honestly way bigger than many bedrooms I’ve had before,” Novick said as she sat cross-legged in one of the chairs in their common area.
The farm hands said their daily routines are defined by a close proximity to their jobs and access to homemade lunches and fresh produce to cook with.
“It’s very comfortable,” Novick said. “I would say, it’s not the most weatherproof.”
And that closeness with the land means more than just temperature fluctuations and fresh food. The three farm hands all spoke about the rising public health concern on the Island of ticks and the tick-borne conditions like alpha gal that they are causing.
The housing issues on the Island are different for the farm hands, who were familiar with difficulties with lodging in their hometowns and cities. But on Martha’s Vineyard, they faced a new version of a familiar hurdle.
“I have friends who are putting their stuff in storage units, trying to do the Island shuffle. I feel like I vaguely did it last year, but I was really lucky to have IGI behind me,” Villanueva said. The ‘Island shuffle’ is a colloquial phrase that refers to locals moving out of their homes or rentals to make room for seasonal visitors.
Villanueva worked at IGI last season, and lived in a house provided by IGI as she waited for the yurts to be built, and met a lot of year-rounders and seasonal workers in the farm community.
Novick said she was alarmed by how much housing affects year-rounders, especially “workers here who are the backbone of this community.”
She added that she knows a lack of affordable housing availability is “the case across the country,” but she’s observed that the crisis is “under a magnifying glass” when the space to build is limited by a surrounding ocean.
But all three farm hands discussed their delight in the way agricultural workers are treated on the Island. “People care so much about farmers here,” Villanueva expressed.
“I didn’t really realize how big the agricultural scene was here before I moved. I was sort of surprised to learn about that, but it does make a lot of sense, and I’m happy that it exists,” Raciukaitis said with a smile.
Yurts are a fabulous idea! Brilliant minds on MV!