My life and times on Star Island.

Thomas Putney

Personal Essay

My life and times on Star Island.

Star Island is a small island off the coast of New Hampshire. It is one of the small subset of islands called the Isles of Shoals in the waters of Maine and New Hampshire respectively. The Island has had a long history. It was discovered by John Smith, of Pocahontas fame, back in the sixteen hundreds, Later the shoals where used by notorios pirates as a hiding place, including Blackbeard the pirate. The shoals also contain many stories of lurking ghosts and spirits. On Star Island itself is an old destination hotel, called The Oceanic hotel, that stands to this very day. My role, in this amazing place, is that of a conferee, attending a youth conference on the island every year at the end of June. I have been to star island five times now, a week at time, and it means very much to me in a way that is hard to define. Though is suppose writing is an attempt to find a definition for that which is hard to explain simply, so I will try.

I tend a conference called YES which is short for youth empowerment and spiritual health. Yeah I know there is an H, and it should be YESH, but just roll with it. We are group of young Unitarian Universalist lead by an elected chairperson of our age, a chosen minister, and several adult advisors. We hold workshops on various topics affecting youth and have youth lead chapel services every night that we are there. The island has several almost magical places to visit, and anul events.

One of the most revered places is east rock, where the cold expansive ocean clashes with the small, but defiant, island. The waves coming to hit east rock are near relentless. They come forward out of the shapeless ocean and retreat once their violence has subsided. Each wave, in its slow rolling labor, steadily changes the very island’s eastern face. Watching this makes you feel that the wind move not only moves through your hair, but your heart as well.

Each year we have a bonfire. To be around that fire, is almost unreal. That flame is the place to share stories, secrets, food, and faith. Faith, that as long as we have that fire, and each other, we will be able to face the darkness around us. To explain more deeply, part of the point of the fire is to burn secrets. We write down on pieces of paper what we would like to overcome in our lives, like harmful personal boundaries, bad habits, and/or fears. I think we can find the strength to dare our selves to make such radical promises to ourselves is the community around us cast in shadow but still seen by the light of the fire.

The Oceanic hotel itself is a wonder to behold. It is large wooden structure with a large font porch that gives an excellent view of the ocean, the mainland, and other islands. There is a phrase for the accommodations simplicity though, Amish style. There is no television, waning phone service, and I have never heard live radio there. To use the internet you have to pay and head to a small shack tucked into an out of the way structure. It is a place made in simpler times, and is meant to promote a simpler experience.

I have rambled trough this reading with the goal of giving a greater explanation. To show that a definite explanation is too hard to compile, to hard to hold in simple words. I hope that a glimpse of the nature of this place has been made clear.

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