We rented the adjoining properties -- Wasque Farmhouse and Wasque Guesthouse -- for the month of July, and we had an unequivocally wonderful time! The two houses worked perfectly for us -- bedrooms were comfortable, kitchens unexpectedly well-equipped and the guesthouse dining table with extension leaves was up to accommodating dinners for 15 or more family and guests. The new appliances not mentioned in the (otherwise accurate) listing descriptions were an added bonus: I had been worried about freezer space until I saw the new farmhouse side-by-side, and the new washer and dryer are the largest capacity I've ever seen (smart additions for a beach house and they worked well)! I have long loved the beauty of East Beach (and Wasque before its erosion) and consequently had underestimated the value of getting access to private Caleb Beach. But because it's so sheltered from the prevailing wind, it became our "go to" beach for swimming with kids and for sailing our sunfish. One of our family had a four-wheel drive, so we were able to drive out on East Beach, where we discovered the little spit that separates Poucha Pond and Cape Poge Bay -- a spectacular place to swim on a nice sunny day. All in all, I (like most of the family) was so busy on Chappy that in four weeks I made only one extended excursion onto the Vineyard proper and a couple of cursory refresher visits to Edgartown. The only ones disappointed in any way were the fishermen among us, who had almost no luck catching bluefish from the shore. However, a friend with a Whaler rescued them from total failure by taking them out somewhere off Oak Bluffs, I believe, where they landed 24 in a couple of hours! Last, but hardly least, in addition to providing us with a nearly unbroken string of sunny days, Nature fully co-operated in every way -- mosquitoes and deer flies restrained themselves to only occasional sudden (and wholly unpredictable) attacks and ticks mysteriously declined to attach themselves even to five and nine year-olds who veered (despite adult warnings) off the path and onto the edges of the field. Incidentally, I will have in my memory for some time a wonderful image of my wife riding her bike along the path across that beautiful field between the two houses -- it strikes me as such an incongruously Midwestern image.