MARGARET KNIGHT

508-627-8894

(margaret02539@yahoo.com)

Ticks, poison ivy and mosquitoes have always been part of Chappaquiddick’s front line defense against overpopulation, along with the ferry, of course. Ferry lines are real problems that can be dealt with by planning ahead, resignation or righteous indignation. (Who are all these people?!) They don’t provoke the instinctual, irrational fear that ticks do. It’s not that ticks aren’t very real health risks, causing many to suffer, but they also easily fall into one of those “phobia” categories, like arachneophobia (fear of spiders) or pediculophobia (fear of lice).

Until the first time I got Lyme disease, I thought maybe I’d built up immunity from all my years on Chappy, but it doesn’t work that way. Only tularemia gives you future immunity — my son gloats about that, because he had it about 10 years ago.

When I was a kid in the 1950s and ’60s there were mostly wood ticks here, and few deer ticks. We’d find wood ticks on us regularly. Back then, I wasn’t squeamish about ripping one in half if there were no handy rocks with which to squish it, and we always had a tick jar on top of the fridge. (I won’t describe how it looked inside by the end of the summer.) Until a few years ago, I used to never think twice about walking into a field to pick a flower, but now I weigh the desire for owning the flower against my “tickophobia” of the moment and, more and more often, I decide to just admire the flower from the path.

My mother designed what she called “tick togs,” made from an old white bed sheet with elastic cuffs on top and bottom that covered the legs like gaiters. I have a drawing she made of them; I think she made one pair, for my uncle Curry Jones. She did it mostly as a joke, but I think they have great commercial potential.

Last August Dr. Sam Telford, professor of infectious diseases at Tufts’ Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine, did a study on the impact of tick diseases on the population of Chappaquiddick. Thirty-three residents or visitors enrolled in the study, including myself, and I was recently sent a letter with the results of the study: 12 per cent of the people tested currently had antibodies to Lyme. (This didn’t mean others had not had Lyme in the past — my blood results were negative and I’ve had it three times, that I know of.) Eighteen per cent were positive for babesiosis, zero for ehrlichiosis, nine per cent for tularemia, and zero for deer tick virus (whatever that is — I’d rather not know). Overall, 27 per cent of the people tested had been exposed to at least one tick-borne infection. Dr. Telford wrote that these results are consistent with other studies taken on the Vineyard in 1994 and 2001, so he concludes there hasn’t been an increase or decrease in transmission over the past nearly 20 years.

According to the 28 study participants that filled out a questionnaire, a little more than half supported raising taxes for tick control — $100 suggested by five people as an acceptable amount. (My mother would probably have something to say about “tick taxes.”) Twenty-three people said they spent or would consider spending up to $75 a year for tick reduction around their home. Dr. Telford suggests people check out the Martha’s Vineyard Tick Borne Illness Prevention Program on the Web site mvboh.org or at tickencounter.org. If you have any questions for him, Dr. Telford can be reached at 508-887-4236 or at sam.telford@tufts.edu.

When Dr. Telford was first planning for the Chappy tick study, he had the idea to go up the ferry line collecting blood samples. As Peter Wells said, that might have worked if the Chappy nurses (Mary, Donna and Pam) were with him, but somehow it didn’t seem like a likely plan. The study ended up taking place at the fire station. When Peter went by to see if he could do anything to help — he being captain of the Chappy fire station — Dr. Telford was telling his assistants that he could “bleed up to 12 people an hour,” which Peter also thought might not be a good way to talk to study participants.

Earlier this week Peter made a preliminary tour of Chappy graveyards and gravestones with Liz Villard. Liz is doing historical research on some of the people buried here, and Peter has lots of stories to pass on about past Chappy residents. They plan to do a tour for us in May, and Liz may do a tour this summer.

The FARM Institute is holding its second annual Sheepapalooza, a day long celebration of sheep and shepherds, food, farming and fiber on Saturday, April 21 from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., rain or shine. Morning chores are from 9 to 10 a.m., sheep shearing with Andy Rice 10 to 2 p.m., Fiber Arts & Fun from 10 a.m. to 3 p.m., burgers, lamb sausage and greens from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m., farm tours at 10 a.m., noon and 2 p.m., and Herding Dog Demo from 2 to 3 p.m. Sidney will be there, no doubt trying to get his pair of young oxen to work together to pull a cart or move hay around, and wishing he had a border collie, too. I’m planning to be there with Wooligans, my new line of bags, hats, etc. made from recycled sweaters. People wonder what we do here in the off-season; this is what I did — had fun cutting up old sweaters I felted and made into things. Thanks to Kathleen at the library who inspired me.

This week was a reminder of things to come. The temperatures had me complaining about the heat, got folks in bathing suits on the beach, and made Circuit avenue in Oak Bluffs look just like summer with families eating ice cream cones outside, and lots of visitors everywhere because of school vacation week. Seasonal residents are appearing on Chappy, some to stay and some to check on their houses. There was a sighting of Brad Woodger on the ferry; he’s back to take care of the golf course. He wrote me: “I feel like Al Pacino in the Godfather 3: ‘I keep trying to get out, and they keep pulling me back in!!’ . . . except no one is pulling me . . . or even politely requesting my return. I am, regardless of apathy, back for the summer.” Welcome back, Brad, and all those other people who didn’t have enough Yankee starch to stay here all winter — we really suffered through all those 50 degree winter days.