I don’t usually go to the North Shore beaches around here. I used to. When I was a kid we spent a lot of time at Crane’s Beach (it may officially be Crane Beach, but that’s not what we’ve ever called it) and Wingaersheek Beach, which is actually on the Annisquam River. I’ve been to Singing Beach a few times, West Beach in Beverly, and some small beach in Rockport. I’ve even hit Salem Willows once or twice, and have walked the Palmer Cove area when I was a grad student at Salem State.
As a teen I partied on some giant rock in Magnolia or
Manchester-By-the-Sea or someplace around there. I just remember that it was a
bitch to climb up that rock and even worse coming down, especially at high
tide. In my teens I fluctuated between Salisbury Beach in northeastern
Massachusetts, and my weekend jaunts to the South Shore: Wollaston Beach and
the infamous Nantasket Beach, where I made myself a staple (along with a core
group of various North and South Shore friends) at Jimmy’s Irish II Pub/Bar
(with walk-throughs of Paragon Park back in its heyday).
I’d never been to Nahant until last year when a friend took me there a few times. I grew up with that whole “Lynn, Lynn, the City of Sin, you never come out the way you went in” crap. So going to Lynn on my last day of freedom before returning full-on to school (for the first time in six months) wasn’t even on my radar. My friend and I intended to go to Revere Beach (another place I’ve never been, believe it or not).
Instead, we ended up at King’s Beach in Lynn. Yes, that Lynn.
Oh, I’ve been to Lynn plenty of times. My brother used to
march in and direct the drumline for a couple of DCI (Drum Corps International)
regiments, and they’d always play the Lynn Manning Bowl (and it always freaking
poured rain, like buckets and buckets for the whole time we’d be there). I’m
not going to lie – I had zero knowledge that there was such a lovely stretch of
beaches in Lynn.
We parked along Lynn Shore Drive for free (FREE … it’s like
a beach miracle), made our way to the sand in about ninety seconds, set up our
chairs, and noticed way out in the water there is a large rocky island. Upon
researching quickly via Google, we discovered the place is called Egg Rock.
There are many creepy and cool things about Egg Rock. For example:
Ø
In 1832, more than 150 people witnessed a sea
serpent cavorting between the beach in Nahant and Egg Rock.
Ø
The first lighthouse on Egg Rock began operation
in 1856 after a terrible schooner accident in 1843.
Ø
The lighthouse keeper’s big dog Milo could fetch
birds and other items set out for him by fishermen over a mile from the island,
and Milo rescued several children.
Ø
One of the lighthouse keepers was awarded 85
cents for a rescue.
Ø
In 1922 during a move of part of the lighthouse
dwelling, a cable snapped and the building hung precariously over the edge.
Several workers inside had to break and escape out windows while hanging over
the ocean.
Ø
The lighthouse was destroyed in 1927 and the
state took it over as a bird sanctuary.
The strangest fact about Egg Rock, however, is that madwoman
poet Sylvia Plath wrote a poem about it called “Suicide off Egg Rock,” a poem
that appeared in her book The Bell Jar
(about her time in an insane asylum). I read The Bell Jar when I was fourteen. I wasn’t impressed.
What does impress me is Egg Rock itself and this beautiful beach here in Lynn, tucked away with barely a soul here, with free parking and seagulls and plovers and steady but restful waves.
Okay, I’m still partial to my New Hampshire beaches: The
Wall and Jenness and Wallis Sands. I may continue to recite the old rhyme about
Lynn, Lynn, the City of Sin. Truth is, I wouldn’t mind heading back to King’s
Beach for another day, before school, after school, whenever. I mean, for real:
If it’s good enough for Sylvia Plath’s sanity, it’s certainly good enough for
mine.
