From a July, 1960 Gazette:

Important as salt is and has been to the welfare of humanity the world over, and extensive as the industry of salt-making has been on Martha’s Vineyard, history has almost nothing to say about the Island industry. In the history by Dr. Charles Banks he merely states that there were extensive saltworks on Bass Creek in Vineyard Haven in 1840 and that others were operated near the herring creek (Tashmoo, presumably).

Of all the saltworks operated on the Vineyard, the only trace remaining is in West Tisbury, and here the locality is still known by the name, and the ledge offshore as well, and there is still a trace to be found, a scrap of evidence. This consists of what is left of a huge wooden vat used to hold salt water which was evaporated in the sun, leaving the salt crystals in the bottom and clinging to the wood.

But this vat is not to be confused with the “salt-pans,” in which the evaporation took place. They were long and shoal, and either fitted with covers to keep out rain or so arranged that a roof or watershed could be drawn over them in case of damaging weather. The vat was employed for some other purpose, possibly the container into which the water was first pumped and from which the pans were filled.

Seen at low water, the relic consists of the bottom ends of very thick wooden staves, as off a cask or barrel, except that they are far heavier than those of either, being inches in thickness. The surf, rolling gravel and other objects, being hurled over and across these staves for generations, has reduced them to jagged wooden fragments. The bottom of the vat may still be there, helping to hold what is left of the staves in a circular position.

And this is all that there is left of the Saltworks — a rocky point, a rocky beach from which brush-covered hills slope upward. Faintly discerned in the reindeer moss and turf are ancient wheel-ruts where the ox-teams and horse-carts came and went.

Most of the Island knows there is a place called the Saltworks, even if some people could not find it. Boatmen and fishermen shape a course to clear Saltworks Ledge, or anchor over it to fish for tautog. They know the location of the Saltworks, on Seven Gates Farm, today.

Tradition contains information indicative of the public interest in this spot. There is nothing known in the way of record which might establish actual ownership. Though the surrounding lands have been held under title deeds, the Saltworks may or may not have been so held. There was once a Saltworks Road, which followed a route or right of way that was owned by the town. Certainly there is abundant evidence that long after the Saltworks stopped operations, this right of way was sold to Seven Gates Farm. The fact that it was owned by the town and sold, might indicate a community project in the Saltworks itself.

The explanation of the sale of the road is simple. The Saltworks were no longer in operation. In fact there was no trace of the plant left on the high, dry land. The structures, such as they were, had long since been demolished, and the lumber sold to find its way into barns and sheds in various parts of the Island. Planks, on which salt crystals could still be seen, formed walls or floors of such buildings, and old residents muttered that it was “Saltworks lumber” when questioned about its odd appearance.

But the road remained, used by occasional farmers who went to the beaches after seaweed. The town had a certain responsibility to keep the public right of way passable. And since it was of little use and being also sought by the owners of Seven Gates Farm, someone may have considered the possible expense involved in maintaining the road. Thus the right of way was sold, as the story is told.

So a well known landmark literally dropped out of sight. For a time the seaweed wagons came and went as before, but the use of seaweed came to an end and the road gullied in the storms and trees grew within its bounds.

Today very few people realize the road existed and even those who speak of the Saltworks do not realize why the location bears the name. It is just one of those obscure things which form a connecting link, frail but tenacious, between the present day and the so-different past of the Island, its industries and its people.

Compiled by Cynthia Meisner

library@mvgazette.com