Decoding Wellfleet

You can easily lose track of time in Wellfleet, either looking at kingfishers plunge in the marsh or simply watching fiddler crabs move along the sand and occasionally disappear into smala holes.

The town clock will confirm that you have completely lost track of time with its mysterious mariner shift system.

Every time I hear the bells, I know they do not toll for me. Three o'clock was supposed to be six bells and I heard seven. I'm sure the term "ish" was inspired by a clock using this type of system.

My ignorance does not come from lack of trying. I read about the theory and tried to apply it several times but to no avail. Every time I hear bells in Wellfleet, the only thing I'm sure of is that time has passed or that I'm running late.

If it's true that time is money, then I can safely say that Wellfleet is where I went bankrupt. Please, if you see me around the library, don't ask me how long I've been here. I arrived approximately at the same time the bells started ringing and the Carolina wren signing.

In trying to fit in the Wellfleet community, I jokingly told my local friends that my wife and I would see them for dinner at around five bells.

It may not be accurate, but it's certainly a great excuse for arriving fashionably late. That being said, I'm confident that in good company, happy hour extends far beyond two bells.

Cheers!