Oooh, Block Island, memories ...
Back in my graduate school days in Waltham MA (a burb just west of Boston), one housemate, Debbie, was a commercial pilot getting her BA and trying to get a job with a major airline. She put herself through school by teaching flying. Another one of my housemates was training for his private pilot's license with her. I couldn't afford Debbie (and had no real interest in learning to be a pilot) but I was a GREAT sandbag, so I got to ride in the back of the Cessna a lot. (When someone is doing touch & go's, after the first five or so they get really old ... )
Anyhow, one summer Deb had a job with a tiny regional airline that ferried folks around the islands, and she was based at a small airport at the bottom of RI (Westerly, RI). Many Friday afternoons I would jump in my beater car and drive a couple of hours to stay the weekend with Deb at the tiny apartment she was renting for the summer in Westerly.
On Saturday morning I would help pack up a delivery flight to Block Island and then bum a seat on the flight over to BI and help unload the plane (these were generally single engine commercial planes so there wasn't all that much cargo).
Then I'd have all day to spend on BI. I would rent a bike and ride around the island and hang out on the beach. At the end of the day I'd bum a seat on one of Deb's or a co-workers flights back to the airport in Westerly, stay the night at Debs place and then head back up to Waltham. Not a bad life.
I went to a scientific conference the end of that summer (a Gordon conference if anyone is familiar with those) and a group photo was taken of the attendees. Mind you, this was about 25 years ago back in the days of black & white film photography. My tan was so intense from all that time hanging out on the beach on BI that summer that in the photo I was a few shades darker than the rather dark-skinned woman from India standing next to me.
Yikes, thanks for stirring up that old memory!