National Geographic : 1957 Sep
STATUTE MILES ©N.G.S. which aims across tide-racked Plum Gut to Plum Island. Between the island and the Connecticut shore to the north lies Long Island Sound. All of this country, the water and the land, reflects a steady change of character. Nomad and I had come here once before, to take in the World's Fair in 1939; I cannot say that the one previous trip qualified me as a posses sor of great local knowledge, but I could see the differences brought about in less than 20 years. Urban Tide Sweeps Eastward Long Island today is less green, more urban. The hum of traffic, where once were only the call of bird and shrilling of insect, comes across the water. Rarely on my previous cruise did lights shine after midnight from the darkness hid ing the land's central reaches. Now rushing headlights, brightly lighted windows, and the neon signs of night clubs outline the shore. The farther west one goes, the greater the congestion. New York City is reaching out to swallow Long Island. Rows of rambler homes march relentlessly into fields that once grew potatoes or rang with the thwack of polo mallet on ball. Green frogs have fled the swamps ahead of the bulldozer blade. Even Coney Island's gimcracks are ringed by the moving tide of apartments.* Offshore there is also change. Swarms of buzzing outboards and stock-model cabin cruisers replace the stately yachts of yester year. Many who can still afford to keep larger craft no longer base them at Larchmont and Manhasset Bay, but have moved farther out along the Long Island and Connecticut shores. Happily, sailing appears to be in no danger * See "Long Island Outgrows the Country," by Howell Walker, NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE, March, 1951.