From the November 30, 1956 edition of the Vineyard Gazette:

Post-Thanksgiving short takes: Out at Heathland Farms, George Schwab, second in command, was wearily dispensing one of the last of the thousands of turkeys they provided for Island feasting, a glassy look in his eye, and a muttered “gobble-gobble” his answer to most questions. The sympathetic customer said “What are you going to have tomorrow George, roast beef?” No, George rallied to reply, turkey — for revenge! And then there was the super-market customer, dowager type, who was having her multitudinous purchases carried out for her. Which are is it ma’am. the Ford or the Chevy, the groaning porter asked.

In haughty impatience, the lady replied, “The green one.”

Each year as the scalloping season in Edgartown gets underway, a mate puts to sea on one of the fleet of boats without benefit of the license usually required of shellfishermen. It’s well he does, too, for Town Clerk Albert H. Prada would be hard pressed to think of a name to imprint on his license except C. Gull.

You see, the mate is a feather fellow who for the past seven or eight years has been accompanying Percy D. West on his almost-daily scalloping forays.

Each morning as Mr. West leaves the harbor, the gull flies out from either the beach near the ferry landing at Chappaquiddick or the lighthouse beach and alights on the West boat. He stays on board all day except for occasional sorties (possibly in the nature of espionage) to see how nearby boats are doing.

Throughout the day, Mr. West breaks up conchs, which prey on scallops, and hand-feeds them to the gull. If other gulls come near Mr. West’s boat and threaten his source of provender, he perches atop Mr. West’s head and his fare is handed up to him. Although most gulls will steal scallops, this one will very seldom commit such larceny unless the scallop is lying broken on the deck.

Each day as his boat heads home the gull debarks at the harbor entrance and hoes to his home. When the scalloping season ends in the spring, the gull spends most of the spring and summer sitting on Mr. West’s mooring stake in the harbor.

Mr. West, who has been scalloping continuously since 1920, was at work shucking scallops in his garage late one afternoon this week when inquiries about his friend from birdland were directed at him. The wiry, weatherbeaten, white-haired fisherman is extremely fond of his shipmate. “It’s a lot of company when there are no other boats around. It’s like an old friend.”

Waltzing together as scores looked on admiringly, Mr. and Mrs. Amos P. Smalley of Gay Head set the tone of their golden wedding celebration on Saturday evening at the town hall. The event was the culmination of a memorable day.

The first party in recognition of a half century of happy marriage, was a fine one given by Mr. and Mrs. Raymond C. Ball of West Hartford, Conn., at their Chilmark summer home, the former Huntington homestead. In this charming setting thirty guests assembled, mainly from Gay Head, but including some from as far away as Edgartown, were happily concerned with the wonder of it all, particularly the splendid looks and spirits of the guests of honor.

Mrs. Smalley, the former Lydia Adeline Mingo, becomingly garbed in a handsome pale grey gown enhanced with a corsage of golden chrysanthemums presented by her hostess, was practically enthroned as she sat to receive the congratulations of the friends and neighbors, nearly all of whom came bearing gifts. Mr. Smalley, slim and active in a way that also belied his years, wore a golden chrysanthemum in his buttonhole.

The anniversary feast which included many edibles besides, featured both a fine wedding cake and champagne, the only beverage quite appropriate to such an occasion.

Seemingly undaunted by the excitement of the first event, the Smalleys moved gamely on to the town hall where their townspeople, with a smattering of accessions from down-Island, had gathered to do them honor. To the music of a tuneful trio, Miss Eva Ryan at the piano Hollic Smith violinist and Art Look accordionist, the evening ended gaily. After his exhibition waltz with Mrs. Smalley, which opened the dance, Mr. Smalley was on the floor for every dance that evening, announcing that it was a shame to let such good music go to waste. His ease and agility on the dance floor were the talk of the evening.

As a counter attraction to the dancing, a big table was spread, bearing brown and golden chrysanthemums and the punch of the evening. Brass candlesticks and trays glistened like gold, and a big wedding cake was decorated with gold leaves and the figures, 50, also in gold. On another table were the gifts presented to the Smalleys by their well wishers. It was agreed as the celebration came to an end late at night, that there never was such a community party nor such gracious and beloved guests of honor. At least the phrase, to grow old gracefully, was perfectly illustrated.

Compiled by Hilary Wallcox

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