Chuckin' sticks and drinkin' beer, i.e. Monhegan nightlife
As a previous Boston school gal, I've had my fair share of wild nights on the town. The city was constantly filled with clubs, frat parties, hopping bars, and boujee places to down a few substances. So having had that experience already (and I have the lengthy Uber receipts to prove it), I wasn't expecting or even hoping really for much of an evening social scene on Monhegan Island. I figured everyone worked hard all day, maybe engaged in a few artistic hobbies, and then went to bed on a wash, rinse, repeat, cycle. In fact I was so prepared for a party-scene detox, I only packed practical clothes and footwear. If you know me, you know the pain I derive from not being the best dressed in the room.
Now I won't sit here and tell you that I was completely off in my assumptions. Monhegan is not quite the next Manhattan by any stretch, but they do have Mölkky, cigarettes, and beer... lots and lots of beer.
What is Mölkky you might ask? Well I too had that very same question in mind when a mutual friend stopped a coworker and I along the road to say: "Mölkky tomorrow night at six at the field." It was more of an expectant statement than a question which meant I simply had to be there. Also I just wanted to learn what the hell Mölkky was.
After doing a little research (and by little, I mean little. Wifi is spotty here on a good day, and non-existent on a bad one), I found out that the outdoor game is an old Finnish tradition. It consists of 12 freestanding, wooden cylindrical pegs shaped like lipstick tubes, each with a number from 1 to 12 painted on the front. The pegs are arranged in a haphazard cluster for first throws, though thinking back on it, there probably is some rhyme or reason to the specific initial arrangement. Anywho, a single, thick, wooden stick is thrown by players one at a time from a line about ten feet from the pegs. Each peg you knock over counts as a point, however if you only knock over one peg, you get the amount of points that's numbered on it. That's where strategy comes into play. I for one knew accuracy would be my downfall, so I pretty much just tried to tornado all the pegs with a hefty toss. Unsuccessfully might I add.
ALSO––a large part of the game's difficulty comes from the pegs spreading farther and farther apart over time. Each time a peg is knocked over, it gets picked up and reset right where it fell.
The way you win Mölkky is by acquiring 50 points, however if you go over 50 points, you're out. As an added rule to weed out the weak, you're also out if you go three rounds in a row without scoring a point. Essentially, if Mölkky sounds confusing to you, I can promise it isn't, but if it sounds easy––I can also promise you that it isn't.
So there I was, pretentious four-pack under my arm and a coworkers on either side me as we made our way along the road to the "field," after dinner for some Finnish fun. I put quotation marks around field only because I foolishly had a baseball field or perhaps a small grassy area to play soccer in mind when I heard there was a field on the island. Of course I soon found out it was merely a half-gravel/half-grass opening next to the radio tower and a handful of dumpsters.
When we showed up, a game had already commenced between about eight people I didn't know. They each worked at different places on the island: the Shining Sails, the Island Inn, the schoolhouse etc. and seemed more than happy to have a trio of new participants. They were all incredibly friendly and eager to learn names and basic introductions before offering us each a spot in the next round of Mölkky.
The whole ordeal felt almost like a movie scene in a weird way. All the youngsters that I had never seen during the day had come alive at night to congregate in this rough-looking field to chain-smoke cigarettes and drink overpriced beer from the one store on Monhegan. Seeing as the crowd's age range was between 19 and 34, the music was an interesting mix of songs played at my middle school dances and head-bopping disco. I could get down with this vibe for the next few months, I thought to myself, though I am still holding out for more indoor gatherings seeing as the wind and post-seven PM temperatures aren't exactly outdoor-game friendly.
Aside from weekly throwing game tournaments, seasonal workers can be found at various drinking spots around the island on most evenings. There's the brewery, which is a completely outdoor setup with furniture made out of lobster traps. The beer is actually fantastic (I highly suggest the Flyway IPA), though I don't why I expected it not to be. I suppose I've just lowered my standards for things that I had in abundance on the mainland: baked goods, booze, chocolates, clothing... but Monhegan is so far proving me wrong across the board. Unfortunately, one thing that I do miss about home, is later operational hours. The brewery boasts a 6 PM closing time on weekdays, and only surrenders another hour on the weekends to close at 7 PM. But as resilient as they are, Monheganers have learned to deal. Most folks simply snag a few pints before closing and then head off into one of the island's gazillion spots to drink in pursuit of a sunset.
That's where things get a little at-your-own risk.
Due to Monhegan's rocky edges and hilly terrain, one cannot be an explorative or lonesome drinker. Within the last month, we've lost two employees at The Monhegan House due to drunken injuries obtained on Lobster Cove (the coveted location of Monegan's one and only shipwreck). One was a concussion and a few broken ribs, the other a broken ankle, and both had to be sent back to the mainland for prolonged treatment. A.K.A. "you're done for the season." Sadly, the broken ankle belonged to a new friend of mine who adored the island and lit up a room with her bubbly personality and outgoing sense of humor.
As a rule of thumb, a couple girls that I work with and I have made a pact to only get obliterated in a stagnant, indoor environment from here on out. Other than that it's a safe able-to-walk-alone buzzed for us.
In other news, there is word of potential house parties occurring in the near future as the weather improves and folks get more settled in, which is good stuff for increasing my social circle (and for more blog material of course). The locals and my adult coworkers enjoy a good evening with friends fairly often as well. There seem to be themed dinner celebrations and impromptu wine and cheese functions almost every night at someone or other's house... or beer and paté nights if you're Mark.
I actually scored an invite to one of Mark's friend's homes for sophisticated dinner festivities the other night, which was lovely. I'd give an in-depth description of the house, food, wine, and conversation, but perhaps that's for another blog!
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