July 3rd Tides

Many towns on the Massachusetts South Shore celebrate the nation’s Independence Day by having a July 3rd bonfire.

That may or may not be legal in your town, and I advise you to check with local authorities before assembling a 20-foot Inferno… or just be really sneaky, get a few scouts on either end of the road and build the fire very quickly before the police arrive.

One thing that can screw up a bonfire is a bad tide. Ideally, a bonfire is lit at night, but not so late at night that it does not provide entertainment for the children.

That part isn’t hard, unless there is a 9 p.m. high tide. You either have to light the bonfire at 6 p.m. or drink beer until 1 a.m. and light it then. Not much good comes from lighting 20-foot bonfires at 1 a.m.

However, Uncle Sam is smiling on the Irish Riviera this year, as tides look to be ideal for bonfires.

Here are some local July 3rd tides, information, which is of course useful to people who aread not assembling semi-legal conflagrations.


Brant Rock, 3:53 PM

Scituate Harbor, 3:47 PM

Plymouth Harbor, 3:39 PM

Hull, 3:53 PM

Hingham, 3:57 PM

Cape Cod Canal, East, 3:47 PM

Cohasset, 3:52 PM

This puts low tide pretty close to 10 PM for most of these places.



Grey Morning In Duxbury


A little foul weather doesn’t keep me from my morning stroll.


Poseidon was trying to give us an ocean storm, but his heart wasn’t in it.



At the foot of the Powder Point Bridge, aiming at Duxbury Proper.



Looking for the distance limit on my camera phone… yup, it’s right about there.


If I zoom in enough, I do OK…



The Powder Point Bridge, as much as I love it, looks like a fishing pier that they got the measurement wrong on to the extent that it reached the other end of the bay.



I am more punk than gangsta, which is the reason why I did not steal this unattended police vehicle for my own personal use. I know my limits.


See what I mean about it being a really big fishing pier?



Lobsters do not walk upright, but the horizontal lobster wouldn’t be as effective as an advertising tool.


I should have led off with this…

…or this.



Alicia Fox, in the house… OK, under it.


Are Duxbury Seawall Repairs Worth It?

Duxbury Beach suffered through a series of gales last March, and the strain was too much for her protective seawall. Sections of it collapsed, and emergency repairs had to be made in advance of a follow-up storm.

These repairs are of the temporary sort, and the seawall as it stands now won’t stand long. A new wall will eventually have to be put in.

The repairs will be expensive, and the replacement will be more expensive. If they don’t occur, houses will fall into the sea and the coastline will erode away to a memory.

Who pays for the wall, how much they pay and who is responsible for repairs… that remains to be seen. It will most likely involve some court-type activity.

Hanging over the whole issue are the questions of whether people should live so close to the sea, whether 15,000 people should have to build a wall to protect 190 houses, whether rising sea levels make a wall useless and whether delaying seawall repairs until the wall collapses frees the town from their mandated repair work.


Duxbury Beach, partially pictured above, is a residential area of 191 houses. I grew up there, still have family there, just so you know.

Many people from Duxbury Proper mistakenly think it is a part of Marshfield. Nope. From where the seawall in question begins, Duxbury runs about a half-mile to the Marshfield line.

It is lagely populated by seasonal folk, although many of the former cottages are gentrifying away from their Irish Riviera roots. It is by far Duxbury’s emptiest neighborhood from Labor Day until July (and most likely all year), and to my knowledge is Duxbury’s only seasonal neighborhood.

While the houses are not King Caesar-style mansions, the Atlantic frontage drives up the property values. The neighborhood kicks almost 2 million smackers back to Duxbury in property taxes.

Residents consume town services mostly for 2 months a year, and there is barely a need to send a school bus there. For the most part, they are invisible cash cows… but when they get attention, it tends to be Destruction Porn coverage from the local news of a bad nor’easter.

Habitation there would not be possible without the seawall. Memories of people and property being swept into the sea by the 1938 Great New England Hurricane were fresh on the mind as the sea walls of Massachusetts were being built in the 1940s and 1950s.

Duxbury finished their wall in 1954, and it runs from the south end of Ocean Road South to a small gap (the gap is from people who declined the $500 buy-in back in 1954) before the sea wall in Green Harbor. Before the US Army Corps of Engineers concrete seawall went in (busy work for WWII vets, an old schooler tells me), there was a wooden seawall made of telephone poles. Aside from that, Duxbury Beach relies on dunes.

The seawall held up well enough for 64 years, doing her repel-the-waves/stop-the-erosion thing… but the same thing that took down the walls of Constantinople took down the wall at Duxbury.



The Turks didn’t use one big shot from a cannon to take down the walls of Constantinople, they instead used repeated, focused shots.

Likewise, the walls in Duxbury didn’t collapse under the pressure of a single Hawaii Five-O type wave, they were knocked down over 64 years of inexorable 3 to 8 foot surf.

Much like when you pile straw upon a camel or when you nag at a soon-to-be ex-spouse long enough, the end usually comes via what would otherwise seem to be an innocuous incident.

That piece of straw shouldn’t have broken the camel’s back, but it did. Similarly, the seawall in Duxbury has stood up to far worse surf than it saw in the storms of 2018, but when last March turned stormy… sha-doobie, Shattered.

Neither the Turks nor Duxbury thought to put rebar in their walls, but that’s something we can circle back to in a little while.

Rebar was first used in the 1500s, so the Byzantines have an excuse for the walls of Constantinople (which was Turkish by 1453). Duxbury, almost exactly 500 years later, just threw up a shoddy wall.


Duxbury will pay 5 million and change to repair 750 feet of damaged seawall, and eventually around $6000 a foot for about a half mile of replacement seawall.

It should be high-end stuff. If a crumbly seawall lasts 64 years, a good one-even with rising sea levels and more frequent storms figured in- should last longer.

While it is never fun to ante up for a costly piece of infrastructure, the wall they put in next should still be standing when Ivanka Trump’s great-great-grandchildren are thinking about entering politics, if it is built properly.

That the town may still be paying off the wall while these future Trumps are running around is the basis of the anti-wall arguments. If that argument is accepted, the question becomes “Are those payments going to be worth it?”

“Worth it” is a broad area that ranges from “Will the wall hold up?” to “How will the wall benefit the town?” to ” No one should be living there anyway?” to “Neighbors should help neighbors” to whether Duxbury could or should disincorporate the troublesome beach neighborhood.


I will leave questions of the wall’s durability to people more skilled in engineering than myself. I spent most of my high school physics class looking at legs, and it was all downhill after that.

“No one should be living there” is cancelled out by “Too late. Someone is living there,” while the helpful neighbor idea can easily be viewed as “Here’s some help, neighbor… Move somewhere else.”

Disincorporation is the concept of Duxbury washing their hands of the beach neighborhood. They no longer accept taxes and no longer offer town services. It would be similar to what the Chinese did with the Walled City of Kowloon.

It would be a complicated legal matter, as not one inch of Massachusetts territory is unincorporated. Everything here is bound to some sort of Municipal Corporation.

One of my people tells me that a town or even a village could be disincorporated only in Vermont, but it would have to involve either:

A) some sort of Roanoke/Salem’s Lot-style disaster that suddenly depopulates the area, or

B) a Centralia/Silent Hill town-toxifying chemical situation, or

C) a Quabbin Reservoir situation where people will die of thirst if the towns are not taken by the state and flooded.

I should add that the man who told me this is in prison, but his logic is sound.


Washing their hands of a soggy beach neighborhood would establish Duxbury’s northern beach border at the gates of Duxbury Beach Park. Everything between that and Marshfield would be no man’s land… unless Duxbury Beach could go free agent and perhaps sign with Marshfield.

Otherwise, Duxbury Beach would quickly devolve into a Road Warrior sort of lawless chaos until the houses fell into the sea.

“Houses falling into the sea” is why Duxbury can’t disincorporate. Imagine, as the barrier beach decays, telling millionaires on Powder Point and Washington Street that construction debris will be washing into their yards for the next 700 years… should go well, yeah.

Avoiding that means disincorporating the people instead of the land. That means buying out 191 prime oceanfront properties.

This isn’t 1950, when you could buy 50 of the shanties for $25,000. Those visions of a Summer of ’42 cottage neighborhood are no longer valid. It’s why the ability of a single entity to buy and sell entire towns is limited to the bank in Monopoly.

Buying out the residents would cripple the town for a generation, and that would only be after 191 costly legal battles and before 191 costly demolitions.

You’d also be saying au revoir to two million a year in taxes, but it gets worse.


Duxbury Beach is a barrier beach. Her job is not just to support the houses of her residents, but to protect the houses of the residents of Duxbury Proper.

If the residents are forced out and their homes are demolished due to a desire to avoid building a seawall, you now have a flat beach- below sea level in some places- with 100 yards of eroding hill and no dunes.

Dunes are fine protection from storm waves, to a point. They work, with ever-ongoing maintenance and restoration, at the central and southern parts of Duxbury Beach. Even then, they get washed over and the beach is breached during bad enough storms.

Keep in mind, Duxbury Beach is divided by a line that only true storm geeks recognize. If you look across Cape Cod Bay from Duxbury on a clear day, you can see the tip of Provincetown. It almost looks like a mirage, but it’s real enough.

From the Duxbury vantage point, storm waves coming in from the Atlantic either come from the right or the left of Provincetown. From the right, any wave began after Cape Cod, which is Duxbury Beach’s barrier beach. From the left, they are coming in from the open ocean, unobstructed, and they hit the beach with the force, like Obi. We’re talking monster truck force, perhaps double what is hitting at the other end of the beach.

Guess where the cutoff point is? Right around where the seawall starts on Duxbury Beach. Northern Duxbury Beach gets far worse surf than southern Duxbury Beach, which is odd because they are the same beach. A good nor’easter would make quick work of any dune laid down on the northern end of Duxbury Beach.

The part of Duxbury Beach that has an armored seawall is the part of Duxbury Beach that needs an armored seawall.


The anti-wall people quickly find themselves in a Catch 22 situation.

They seek to avoid paying for a wall, so they bankrupt the town to buy out and demolish the houses on the beach.

Dunes don’t protect the town well enough. Dune depletion kicks in, as sand that would normally be washed down southward into the dunes after hitting the seawall is instead pushed ashore onto Ocean Road North, Ocean Road South and Gurnet Road.

The annual dune reparations would have to be preceded by annual repairs on the road leading out to the dune. Meanwhile, the barrier beach erodes.

Houses of more influential town residents in Duxbury Proper begin to get direct ocean effects as the barrier beach erodes away. The multi-million dollar high school complex is imperiled.

Duxbury is then left with one choice, the one they passed on before they got into this mess… build a wall. Only this time, they are doing it without $2 million a year in tax money.

If the disincorporation people are listened to and the town Pontius Pilates their hands of the beach village, they may not even have a viable beach to build the wall on once the disincorporated beach starts eroding… meaning that they spend a decade securing easements and operating heavy equipment in the wealthy people’s yards on Powder Point Road/King Casear Road and off Washington Street.

I don’t see that going well.



Simply put, Duxbury needs to build this wall. It sucks, but every other option they have sucks harder.

Disincorporating the beach neighborhood would be a penny-wise, pound-foolish act of financial masochism. It would be the equivalent of punching the gift horse in the mouth.

There is no way that Duxbury avoids building a new seawall. The only other options leave them bankrupt… or bailing out Washington Street every full moon high tide.

They should not only build a wall, they should build a really nice one. They should even look into an artificial reef offshore, but one thing at a time.

The whole seawall cost quandary is very much like that old joke about why divorce costs so much…

Because it’s worth it.


Surf Check, 4/16/18

We went to Duxbury and Marshfield to check out the waves from a mini nor’easter.
Technically, it was some spelling of sou’easter, as winds came from the Southeast.
You could call it “Southeast winds from a nor’easter way offshore,” because I have been writing this column long enough to know that some people get touchy about these designations.
It wasn’t a bad storm, maybe a C or a C-.


We got to Fieldston, Ocean Bluff, Brant Rock, Green Harbor and Duxbury Beach.  That’s our author in the picture above, and Fieldston  (featuring Hardcore Logo) in the video below.




Two paths to Burke’s Beach above, and Ocean Bluff below.


This storm was a minor test for the seawall repairs.
The strong SE wind put the waves into SE-facing Green Harbor, and made life a bit easier for NE-facing Duxbury Beach.
Duxbury residents had no choice but to fill in their yards after the major erosion of the March storms, violating the “don’t do yard repairs until late April” guideline.
They seemed to hold up OK.
You can see the value of a good seawall down in Green Harbor, in the background, or Brant Rock, below…


As you can see, big boulders will be the order of the day until they replace the seawall.
End of an era… the infamous Public Stairs have been destroyed.
Homeboy had better get his Flag Game together.
My assistants running away… Burke’s Beach/Green Harbor below


Green Harbior has a sort of curve to it that makes it an optimal photo platform no matter where the storm winds are blowing in from…
The storm was impressive enough to overwash the jetty at Green Harbor.
The Brant Rock side of the channel took some shots, too.
I go to the Green Harbor well more than once, but never too often. We also have more Brant Rock, below…


Sometimes, you get a soaking on this job.
Seagulls were doing some air-surfing over the waves.
Brant Rock, I believe… and we finish at Duxbury Beach, below…




Checking Out Some April Snow…

You never know when the snow you are seeing may be the last snow of the season, so we got out into it.
It was nice snow- photography weather… lots of snow falling, but the roads were wet, not icy.
This is actually a pretty nice sledding hill, other than the part where you end up on Route 3.


We detoured through Duxbury for some yard shots.
Norwell, and no, the driver is not on the camera…
I think this was Plymouth…we were just bombing around, to be honest.
We did first take the camera out in Holbrook, but we ended up on the Cape… although the Snoop video below is in Kingston.


Surf Check: Brant Rock And Duxbury Beach

A large ocean storm just missed us this week, but it was strong enough to send surf back our way for a few days. I got there a day late, as someone else took that shot of the wave breaking on the house at the top.
Had it shifted towards new England a bit more, it would have been the 5th in 24 days. As it was, it still sent heavy surf at the South Shore and Cape Cod.
They also had an 11 foot tide, which you can see where the Cut River meets Green Harbor. Our photographer gets soaked at the end of the video below, filmed in Brant Rock.


I bet, in 1960 or so, there were two guys who are very old now, and they argued about wherever they thought the weak point of the seawall was. Whoever had that area above, and he may be dead now, was correct.
Brant Rock was named after Brant Geese, which nested on these rocks and probably some others. Ocean Bluff used to be called Hewitt’s Point, named after Jennifer Love Hewitt some guy named Hewitt. Hewitt got the land from a guy named Winter, who had taken to calling it Winter’s Island. However, Winter got tried for fathering his own grandchild, and that was all she wrote for Winter’s Island on the ol’ map. I think Hewitt may have even been that grandchild. “Ocean Bluff” sounds better, anyhow.
One can follow the Cut River into Duxbury’s Great Salt Marsh. The tide, as you might guess, was also high over here.
This is all old storm damage or old repairs, it wasn’t that bad when I was there, I should have gone to Eastham.
The poor public stairs lose by TKO to Mother Ocean.
Duxbury’s seawall was absolutely torn apart in March. The replacement wall is estimated to cost $4.5 million. 
Or, you can just buy some iron plates and roll a few boulders around…
There is work to be done beyond the wall, as well.
Crikey! As you can imagine, with seawall damage like that, sump pumps are working overtime… see video below:
Watch that first step…
That was a lawn, once…
The surf came over the wall a bit, but nothing like earlier in the month.
Buoys always get in the mix if we see them.
Looks worse than it was, and that is Duxbury in the video below…


Duxbury’s marsh in Saturation mode.
Powder Point (Bridge and Road) in the background.
The beach is level with the seawall in some parts of Duxbury.
Onward through the fog, to Clark’s Island.
Duxbury Beach, residential area, pre-storm, from above.

The Irish Riviera

I grew up on Duxbury Beach, an isolated neighborhood on a peninsula stretching out into Cape Cod Bay.

Duxbury Beach, a cottage neighborhood in the 1970s, was very much unlike Duxbury Proper. As is the case with any isolated kids (during the height of the Baby Boom, my neighborhood had 3 other kids in an area of about a square mile), I was different than the kids in town.

Many people who I went to high school with thought that I was from Marshfield. Others thought that I was “spiritually” from Marshfield, as Vegas villages like Green Harbor and Brant Rock were effectively closer to my home than any Duxbury neighborhood.

People closer to the truth (myself included, for a while) thought instead of a run of “Beach People” stretching from about Quincy to the end of the Cape.

In reality, I was just a citizen of Duxbury’s very small chunk of the Irish Riviera.


Hull, courtesy of Nathan McKelvey

We’ll be talking Irish Riviera today, to get your mind all proper-like as St. Patrick’s Day draws near. We shall explore what a Riviera is, why we have so many Irish, how so many of them ended up on the South Shore and whatever else comes into my head as I bang away at Ol’ Momma Keyboard here.

Let’s start by discussing what a Riviera is. The famous one is the French Riviera/Cote d’Azur, which is France’s coastline on the Mediterranean Sea.

The Cote d’Azur is a resort area. You know how they say that the French all take August off? This is where they go. British, continental and even Russian tourists also started arriving in droves. A 1763 British author wrote of the benefits of oceanfront vacations, and by the end of the 19th century, it was the thing to do.

Originally an aristocracy thing, this newfound (coastal people were generally thought of as a sort of salty hillbilly for much of history) love of seaside resort life soon spread down to the proles.

In the United Kingdom, factories would often close for a week or two in the summer to service and repair the machines. This would loose the workers upon whatever resort areas they could afford to get to. They frequently chose the seaside… maybe get a cottage on the Isle of Wight, if it’s not too dear.

This love of seaside resorts definitely bled down to the Irish. Pale and hard-drinking, they were the perfect candidates for the brief two-month-summers of Massachusetts beach life. They just didn’t figure it out until they got to America.


Marshfield, thanks to Annaliese Sviokla!

The Irish love America, and the 33 million of them here today equal about 10.5% of the US population. There are more Irish in America than there are Irish in Ireland.

As you probably guessed, most of America’s Irish live in California, followed by places like Texas, Florida and Ohio. However, those are just population numbers. When you get to the leaders by % of Population as Irish, your leaders are New York, Pennsylvania and Massachusetts.

Massachusetts takes the title via a robust 21.2% hit of Irish in their population. That’s about double the US average. Six of the top ten Irish towns in America are in Massachusetts, and we dominate the top 20, top 30 and top 100 as well.

Milton, MA 38%
Pearl River, NY 38%
Braintree, MA 36%
Collingdale, PA 35%
Marshfield, MA 35%
Scituate, MA 35%
Gloucester City, NJ 34%
Drexel Hill, PA 34%
Pembroke, MA 34%
Weymouth, MA 33%

The numbers are sometimes in dispute, and it depends on who you ask and what your terms are.

47.5 Scituate
46.5 Braintree
45.8 Hull
45.6 Marshfield
44.9 Avon
44.9 Pembroke
44.6 Milton
44.5 Abington
44.3 Whitman
44.2 Hanover
43.4 Weymouth
43.0 Walpole
42.2 Holbrook
41.4 Duxbury
41.2 Norwell
40.8 Hanson
17.4 Boston
23.7 Massachusetts


I’m pretty sure that she’s English, but she’s posed well

Fieldston (Marshfield) and Squantum (Quincy) sort of trade the title back and forth for Most Irish Neighborhood. Squantum is about 65% Irish, but the difference between Squantum and Fieldston is small enough that the birth of a set of twins or a multiple casualty incident on a road outside of a pub may tip the balance one way or the other.

Most of these Irish started off in Boston. Catholicism was prohibited by the Puritans in Massachusetts, so the Irish were either not coming or pretending to be Scots for a lot of our history.

In the 1820s, various projects like canals, roads and railroads needed cheap labor. Irish immigration skyrocketed. The Great Hunger, where a blight killed off the potatoes which the Irish had come to depend on disproportionately, scattered the Irish like a sort of Mick Pinata.

Two million Irish arrived between 1820 and the US Civil War. They were attracted to cities, where Irish communities were springing up. They were also popular (at least as labor) in any town with a mill. The influx was only slowed by the Great Depression.

More Irish numbers:

Number of immigrants from Ireland

1820-1830 54,338       1911-1920 146,181
1831-1840 207,381     1921-1930 211,234
1841-1850 780,719     1931-1940 10,973
1851-1860 914,119     1941-1950 19,789
1861-1870 435,778     1951-1960 48,362
1871-1880 436,871     1961-1970 32,996
1881-1890 655,482     1971-1980 11,940
1891-1900 388,416     1981-1990 31,969
1901-1910 399,065     1991-2004 62,447

My favorite anti-Irish quote, used completely out of context here… “You will scarcely ever find an Irishman dabbling in counterfeit money, or breaking into houses, or swindling; but if there is any fighting to be done, he is very apt to have a hand in it.”

Boston had 35,000 Irish (about 25% of her total population) by 1850. They have banged out 3-7 kids per family ever since. They also got scattered around, as the Irish tend to do.

How did the South Shore get so Irish? Were there mills all over Marshfield and Pembroke? When did the Eyes start arriving?

Yes, we did have some mills. There were even fringe industries that attracted Irish, like Irish Mossing in Scituate. Those features brought a lot of Green to SE Massachusetts. You’d also have Irish workers who had earned enough to get out of the city, looking for a more pastoral lifestyle. This was especially true of retiring Boston cops.

After WWII, and with the prosperity following it, many Irish returning from war took the opportunity to head for the sticks. The highway system (especially Route 3, which should probably have an Irish nickname like Mick Street or Paddy Road) provided access to what was already being called the Irish Riviera.

There was yet another Irish Diaspora that grew from the busing era. Any moneyed Mick got the heck out of Dodge when the city started getting ugly. Every town on the South Shore saw their population just about double.

Think I’m lying? Here are the population figures for both 1960 and 1980 for a few South Shore towns, and I could have drawn names from a hat in this region without screwing up my statistical model that much:

Plymouth, 14K to 35K

Duxbury, 4K to 11 K

Marshfield, 6K to 21K

Scituate, 11K to 17K (Scituate reached their Paddy allotment earlier, with the Irish Moss industry)

I’m not saying that the onus of busing involved poor Irish neighborhoods, but you didn’t see a lot of people fleeing Wellesley. The South Shore filled with Irish-Am families from Dorchester, South Boston, Charlestown, Hyde Park and so forth. I spent at least one summer as a Dorchester kid living on Duxbury Beach, dating a Boston Latin girl from West Roxbury who summered in Green Harbor. That’s straight-up Irish Riviera living, player.

With many South Shore immigrants from Boston, it was just a case where buying and building up a South Shore cottage was cheaper than sending your Irish brood (save the venom, your author is as Irish as a puddle of Guinness vomit outside of Triple O’s pub) of 5 kids to private schools from K-12.

Throw in a cycle or two of reproduction, and we are where we stand today.


There is some dispute as to the borders of the Irish Riviera.

New York (Rockaway Beach), Indiana, Michigan and New Jersey all have areas known as the Irish Riviera. However, once you start counting Paddys, Massachusetts can tell all of the other states to start thinking of a new nickname.

The Irish Riviera is generally considered to be the coastal South Shore. Many use a sort of river/tributary system based on Route 3 or especially Route 3A.

Some people include the whole South Shore, as interior towns like Whitman and Pembroke also sport large Mick populations.

Some go the other way, using a Scituate/Marshfield definition. Other people stretch it on to the Cape, to the Kennedy Compound. You still have heavy Irish numbers on Cape Cod, but you should also notice that those % of Irish in a town charts I put up earlier don’t have Sandwich, Orleans or Hyannis in them.

I’d personally run the Irish Riviera from Quincy to Sagamore, after which the Cape starts importing tourists and summer people of every stripe to f*ck up the numericals. Bourne is the first town in a long run of coastal Massachusetts towns that doesn’t make it onto those % of Irish in population charts, although they are most likely in the 25-35% (Editor’s Note: 27%) range.

Besides, the Cape Cod Canal makes for an excellent natural border.


Will the Irish Riviera ever lose her unique, Irish domination of the population base?

There is some gentrification going on. Those cottages that were owned by Irish families for so long get sold now and then. Many of these people are Yuppies, looking to flip a cottage into a coastal McMansion. The Irish make for poor Yuppies.

Many of the Branns and Egans and Carrolls (and even the also-Catholic Italian families like the Leones and Palmieris) from my old neighborhood are still holding out, although the veteran Brann that I spoke to tells me that the neighborhood just ain’t the same. The Kerrigans scattered across the world, from Plymouth to Florida to Arizona to San Diego to Australia. Even that Bowden kid is shacked up with a French girl on Cape Cod.

However, it would take some Third World birth rates from other nationalities to knock, say, Scituate down from 35-45% Irish. Since the Catholics frown on birth control, they may even crank out 5 kid families for generations to come. People will still flee Boston. Irish families that grew up summering on the Riviera will move there full-time.

Other Irish families buy up neighboring Riviera houses as the kids marry off, and build little compounds. There is one corner of my old Duxbury Beach neighborhood where you could knock on 3 different doors and still get a Deehan, and tiny Ocean Road North once, in 1999, had 6 houses owned by descendants of the same branch of the Flaherty family.

In the end, we’ll end up with a thinned-out-but-still-vital Irish Riviera. You won’t beat the Mick out of this area for several generations, if ever.


Coastal Massachusetts Storm Shots

We have a pile o’ pics from last week’s storm, so here ya go…
Both ends of Little Sandy Pond Road had trees across them last Friday night.
Duxbury scored a surplus military vehicle for flood rescues.
Never let it be said that Ocean Road North does not live up to her name
These waves eventually took down the seawall.
Duxbury storm damage that isn’t on the beach.


Seawall damage is more the result of attrition than one big wave.
The ocean can bend metal, it seems.


Duxbury got pummeled… but check the dude below out… I eventually splashed out there and woke the guy up.




Duxbury must have lost a poker game to Poseidon and then failed to pay off the bet.
Sagamore Beach sneaks into the mix..


More to come…