Around the globe, people were shocked by the recent attack by Somali pirates on the U.S. cargo ship the Maersk Alabama, and the abduction of Capt. Richard Phillips. The story was riveting. Who knew there were still pirates?

Pirates have always prowled the ocean. As Capt. John Smith wrote in 1630: “As in all lands where there are many people, there are some theeves, so in all Seas much frequented, there are some Pyrats.”

The image of course that springs to mind is more romance than horror, colored by Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean.

The film is a musical. Shortly after the movie begins, a brave but nervous girl walks onto a nearly completed stage. High overhead workmen are rigging electrical wire and so on. In a bored voice an assistant director says, “Okay, kid.” A pianist launches for the 89th time into the audition song. And there it is! A voice that comes along once in a generation.

This time last year I was adding the final touches to my solar car. My partner, Lucas Amarins, and I were fixing a few engineering problems, enhancing the appearance, and testing it out on the Tisbury School blacktop under the watchful eye of our helpful science teacher, Mrs. Gatchell. We named it Ra, after the Egyptian Sun God, and in test runs it worked great (aside from the minor issue that it kept careening off to the right, causing multiple collisions with the other cars).

A Different Tune

The sound of whistling in the street is a rare, sweet pleasure.

Eschewing headphones rather to entertain strangers, the whistler and her clear and human music are a precious gift to passersby, who are irresistibly cheered.

“How lovely!” cried one listener on the streets of Edgartown recently, and the bold whistler pulled back her eager pooch to pause and say admiringly, “You should hear my father.”