Take the Tart(s)
The Harbormaster
The Harbormaster, with a crumb-filled smile, wit sharp and wry,
Leaned against Town Dock, with a wink in her eye.
“When they’re passing tarts, take a tart,” was her plea,
“But slow it down in the harbor—earn your tales out at sea.”
The Harbormaster was born on the Fourth of July, and when she died, the flags flew at half-staff across the island.
Some people live on an island. Others help keep it afloat.
Barbara Nevin was the grand dame and the salty friend. Harbormaster in spirit. Realtor by trade. Native New Yorker. A board member across civic life. Married to the last house-calling country doctor on Martha’s Vineyard. An expert jam and jelly maker. An irreverent spirit in the village. A pied piper to many.
Her real gift was bringing people together — fishermen, contractors and electricians alongside businessmen, lawyers and academics — over steaming pots of soup at her home on Pease’s Point Way. Those overlooked by small-town life were taken to lunch at the Edgartown Yacht Club. The high school football team was welcomed after seasons of both victory and defeat. Among her clients over the years were the staff of President Bill Clinton, the late Princess of Wales, and the creative team behind Jaws.
When she died, the obituary said the news moved “from house to house and street corner to street corner.” My own mother was devastated, forever grateful for Barbara’s friendship and introductions.
She understood arrivals and departures. Who needed anchoring. Who needed encouragement. One colleague said it plainly: “Her only prejudices were against injustices and hypocrisy.”
In Sailing with Angels, she becomes the Harbormaster.
Her Goddaughter would like it noted: she meant tarts. Plural.
Not all of her stories are suitable for the internet. All of them were hilarious. Many make me blush.
The lesson beneath the laughter was steady. Power and adventure are fine things. But ballast matters. Politeness matters. Integrity matters. Bringing others together matters most of all.
Barbara lived that. She helped families buy and sell homes across all six Vineyard towns. She served as production secretary during the filming of Jaws. She traveled the world, researched her genealogy, hung Christmas wreaths on shuttered summer houses, and distributed beach plum jelly at Christmastime. She insisted her native Coney Island would always serve the best hot dog.
She delighted in hats that would have made Queen Elizabeth II envious. She could deliver a perfectly timed, entirely unexpected one-liner. At her funeral, a granddaughter recalled her whispering, “It’s all right, honey, everybody is a little bit queer.”
May every harbor have a Barbara Nevin — someone who pulls strangers to the same table, keeps the laughter rolling, and reminds you, always, to take the tart.
