The end of the fiscal year meeting of the East Hampton Village Board on July 31 was a bittersweet one, as board members accepted the retirement of Larry Cantwell, who had been village administrator for 32 years, and welcomed Becky Molinaro, who succeeds him. She had assumed her new role on May 1.

    Mr. Cantwell, who is running for East Hampton Town supervisor, was praised by Mayor Paul F. Rickenbach Jr., board members, and others who attended the meeting. “For myself and the board of trustees, I’m personally saddened by Larry’s departure from service to our village,” the mayor said. “Remembering his tenure, I recall the consummate public official whose professional acumen, sage advice, and deep caring to do the right thing for the public always came through, tempered with good common sense.” In a reference to Mr. Cantwell’s campaign for election in November, the mayor predicted that “the stars are in alignment to achieving that goal.”

    Welcoming Ms. Molinaro, the mayor said, “You’ve got some shoes that have to be filled, but we have no doubt that you are going to carry the mantle in the continuing condition and reputation of the village.”

    In turn, the board members added words of goodbye. Barbara Borsack, the deputy mayor, recalled her long friendship with Mr. Cantwell, saying he “was always very fair. He was always there to listen. He was great about meeting the needs that we had.” The longest serving trustee, Elbert Edwards, commenting that Mr. Cantwell had “always worked in a very professional manner,” said, “We wish you good luck going forward. We’ll miss you.”

    “I’m sure you’re going to take all the experiences that you’ve gained over the last 32 years,” said Richard Lawler, “and put them to good use.”

    “I am very appreciative to all the help you’ve given me for the two years that I’ve been on the board,” Bruce Siska said. “I didn’t know what I was getting into, but you sure straightened me out in a hurry.”

    Praise for Mr. Cantwell was also voiced by others at the meeting, among them Janet Dayton, representing the Ladies Village Improvement Society, Stephen Tekulsky, who is running for town justice with Mr. Cantwell on the Democratic line, Kathy Cunningham, executive director of Village Preservation Society, Mary Ella Moeller, an active participant in East Hampton School District meetings, and Chief Gerard Larsen of the Village Police Department.

    After noting that Ms. Molinaro’s first months as village administrator had “been terrific,” and saying the board would be proud of her, it was Mr. Cantwell’s turn to thank his colleagues.

    “I’m very grateful for the past 32 years to the mayor, the trustees, prior mayors, and trustees, who I’ve had the privilege to serve, to the employees of the village, and the residents of the village,” Mr. Cantwell said. Calling the village a model for small, community government, he said the village is “blessed with caring, dedicated employees who go above and beyond . . . and really care about their role and the work that they do.”

    Members of the board, he said, “make decisions based upon what they think is in the community’s best interest. There’s no ax to grind; there’s no party politics. They’re simply working to find the best solution for the community.” He also thanked the emergency services and firefighting volunteers.

    An “unusual and unique level of trust” exists between the government and the residents and taxpayers, he said. “There’s a bond that I can’t explain except that I know it exists.”

    Along with the formal acceptance of Mr. Cantwell’s retirement and Ms. Molinaro’s appointment, the board unanimously adopted employment agreements for the year with those who are remaining in their posts. They were Ken Collum and Dan Reichl, code enforcement officers; Scott Fithian, superintendent of the Department of Public Works, Robert Hefner, director of historic services, Michael Tracey, police captain, and Chief Larsen.

    A third attempt by East Hampton Town Councilman Peter Van Scoyoc to get a board majority to take the town’s Fort Pond House property in Montauk off the market was suspended Tuesday when Councilman Dominick Stanzione, who could cast the key third vote to pass the resolution, requested more time.

    Both Mr. Van Scoyoc and Councilwoman Sylvia Overby believe the four-acre waterfront property, which provides a public access to Fort Pond, should not be sold.

    Supervisor Bill Wilkinson and Councilwoman Theresa Quigley, who voted to sell off the site several years ago even in the face of massive public opposition, prompting several lawsuits, have not wavered. When the property was put up for sale, the town was still working its way out from under the last administration’s financial mismanagement, which resulted in a multimillion-dollar deficit.

    Mr. Stanzione, who voted initially with Mr. Wilkinson and Ms. Quigley to authorize the sale, against the opposition of the two Democratic members of the previous town board, had abstained from a previous vote proposed by Mr. Van Scoyoc on taking the property off the market, leaving it a tie.

    Mr. Van Scoyoc brought the matter up after comments earlier in a board work session by Larry Smith, a Montauk resident. Mr. Smith called the property, which includes a house, a “special place” with a “special history” and a “special location,” noting the numerous community groups and individuals who had used it before it was shuttered and left in disrepair.

    In private hands, Mr. Smith said, it would become “another McMansion — or worse, another nightclub.”

    “We now have, thanks to this administration, a surplus in our coffers,” he said. “Why sell? Please stop and rescind the sale of Fort Pond House,” said Mr. Smith. “If not it will be lost forever.”

    Mr. Wilkinson said that the property is zoned for residential use, so a nightclub could not open there. Ms. Quigley said that when all town properties were vetted for possible sale, the Fort Pond House was the only one placed on the market. She suggested that it was not actually used by the public, based on her discussion with a local reporter who, she said, had told her that she never received listings of public events at the property. And, Ms. Quigley said, the town’s buildings and grounds staff had said that they never had requests to use it.

    However, under an agreement with the town, the property was managed by the Third House Nature Center in Montauk, one of the parties that sued after the administration blocked access and put the site up for sale.

    Mr. Van Scoyoc told Mr. Smith that he would not only seek a vote to rescind the potential sale, but would seek to have the property designated a park or recreational facility.

    “I want more time,” Mr. Stanzione said when the resolution was offered later in the meeting.

    “I think time is up,” Councilwoman Overby said.

    “If you want my vote, time is not up,” Mr. Stanzione replied. Mr. Van Scoyoc said that the property has been in limbo for years. “Are you going to grant the courtesy or not?” asked Mr. Stanzione.

    “Yes,” Mr. Van Scoyoc replied.

    The property was purchased for $890,000 in 2003 and has been listed for sale for $2 million.

    Provisions of the New York State Building Code — particularly those that deal with maximum occupancy and toilet facilities — could impose limits on restaurants and bars whose activities extend into outdoor space.

    In a letter sent recently to businesses that could be affected, David Browne, East Hampton Town’s chief fire marshal, outlined the provisions of the code — “to be proactive,” he said on Tuesday.

    Numerous seasonal establishments, particularly in Montauk, have prompted complaints in recent summers from residents saying that the use of patios and lawns has drawn large and disruptive crowds. But some town officials had said they were powerless to control outdoor gatherings.

    Mr. Browne asked the recipients of his letter to “review current activities, and see how these code requirements may affect your particular occupancies. This will be one of the issues this office will be looking at closely.”

    The East Hampton Town Board was apparently unaware of the occupancy-related laws affecting outdoor crowds. Last summer, board members had contemplated adopting a local law tying outdoor occupancy to square footage. Some board members suggested that expanded use of outdoor areas might trigger a requirement that bars and restaurants obtain mass-gathering permits from the town for events, or that the town might require review and new approval from the town planning board.

    Mr. Browne said this week that, along with setting a maximum allowable occupancy for indoor spaces, fire marshals are asked to determine maximum occupancy for outdoor areas if they are enclosed or if there is limited egress. However, the provisions outlined in his letter, he said, apply to open areas even when maximum occupancy is not set.

According to the law cited in Mr. Browne’s letter,  one “water closet” per 40 people or one “lavatory” for 75 people are required at nightclubs and bars for new establishments or existing ones that have “a change in purpose or level of activity within a building,” including expansion into outdoor areas.

    Tina Piette, a local attorney, drew the town board’s attention to the letter at a meeting last Thursday, and asked why it was issued. She said several business owners had asked her about it. “Nobody has ever received a letter like this,” she said. “I can say this for a fact. Are they targeting me, as a friend of these places?” she asked.

    Town board members were unfamiliar with the letter. But, Councilwoman Theresa Quigley said, “This is a legal interpretation of something that’s going on. I think we need to determine who authorized it.”

    Mr. Browne noted this week that in some cases the Suffolk Health Department sets an establishment’s maximum occupancy at fewer people than fire marshals do. However, he said, fire marshals cannot enforce the health codes; only the Health Department can.

    In addition, he said, during night checks of places that are crowded regularly, fire marshals often find that the establishment itself is not over its occupancy limit but that large crowds are gathered outside waiting to be let in.

    That situation is not clearly regulated, he said, but is often among what residents have been complaining about.

    Beach parking permits and mass assembly permits will be the subjects of public hearings before the East Hampton Village Board on Friday, Aug. 16.

    The board will hear comments on three proposed amendments to its code that day at 11 a.m. One would clarify the requirements for a resident beach parking permit. The code now allows those related by blood or marriage to village property owners to also obtain a resident’s parking permit.

    However, there have been abuses of that right, Mayor Paul F. Rickenbach Jr. said Monday. “If you’re a nuclear family member, the village historically has granted permits to bona fide family members,” he said. “But there are others that take advantage of it. I understand it’s human nature, but it’s created some difficulties for Village Hall staff. We’re trying to codify and clarify, and make it a little bit more stringent.”

    Following an inaccurate report in Newsday on Monday, Becky Molinaro, the new village administrator, issued a clarification via e-mail. “With respect to the proposed change in the beach permits, the intent of the village code is to allow blood or marriage relatives to a village property owner entitlement to a resident beach pass so long as they (the relative) are residing at the village property owner’s property,” she wrote. “It does not have to do with the property owner themselves ‘living’ at the property — that is incorrect. It relates to the relative living at the village property.”

    The board will also consider whether to amend the village code so that events held on commercial premises and requiring a mass-assembly permit be held indoors only. This has long been village policy. The amendment would codify that.

    Another amendment would prohibit all vehicular stopping and standing on both sides of Huntting Lane from the intersection of Main Street and for 676 feet east. There is already a parking prohibition on that portion of the lane.

    We may be suffering from Montauk fatigue, what with the hamlet featuring prominently in the news from club goings-on to parking mayhem, but it behooves us to note that real estate there is undergoing as much a resurgence as the hamlet’s motels and eating establishments. And when the fishing capital is called the new Saint-Tropez by Vogue Paris in the June-July issue, you know something is afoot.

     “We’re busier than we ever were,” said Nancy Keeshan of Keeshan Real Estate. Statistics bear her out. In the first quarter of 2013, according to the quarterly reports posted on Town and Country’s Web site, the number of properties sold in Montauk went up 41 percent over that period in 2012, while total Hamptons sales (248) were down 4 percent. Twenty-four houses were sold, as opposed to seven in East Hampton Village, a 30-percent dip from the prior year. A glance at volume tells the same story: Montauk’s sales volume was up 52.13 percent while East Hampton Village’s went down 71.5 percent.

    Both number of houses sold and dollar volume have kept pace, with house numbers rising by 35 percent in the second quarter and volume by more than 10 percent. Comparatively, the number of house sales on the entire South Fork was up only 8 percent.

    “Everything that was sitting on the market for more than a year started to go in the new year,” said Ms. Keeshan. “There’s a younger pulse in the air . . . a lot of cash buyers. . . . They’re feeling a security in the market from over a year ago when they didn’t have the confidence.”

    Certainly one agent who has benefited from the resurgence is Theresa Eurell of Town and Country’s Montauk office. The hamlet is abuzz with the news that last week she closed on a 600-square-foot, two-bedroom, one-bath house on the ocean for $8.5 million. Though the house is teensy, it most likely will not be bulldozed. Perched on the edge of a shallow bluff, once it’s gone its footprint goes with it — and nothing will be allowed to be built on that idyllic location again. Not to worry, the owner has plenty of room on the 1.6-acre parcel to build a dream house, leaving the bungalow that housed the Abbey family during summers since the early ’40s to be made into an architect’s delight. No doubt the beams, salvaged from the Dominy (an illustrious family of craftsmen including clockmakers) barn in East Hampton, will be kept intact.

    That’s not the agent’s only coup of summer. In May, she took a rental client to a house that had been for sale for less than 24 hours — and he bought it without setting foot inside. Originally the Ditch Plain Life-Saving Station at Ditch Plain Beach, the structure was moved farther inland to a five-acre parcel and “lovingly restored” by Hilde Smith. The buyer paid the full asking price of $3.25 million.

    Chris Chapin, a broker in the East Hampton office of Douglas Elliman who hails from Sag Harbor, has a canny outsider’s view of the value of Montauk real estate. Looking at it from a geographical point of view, he points out that “all resort towns on the East Coast from Hampton Bays to Florida are built on barrier islands” and not accessible “to open ocean.”

    “Montauk is the only headlands . . . where you can drive along and see ocean. The whole thing about it is elevation and proximity to ocean. . . . [Montauk] is unique. All other towns are vulnerable to flooding and hurricanes with a direct hit, so if you’re paying attention to the future, the best oceanfront investment in the State of New York is Montauk.” A few other places compare, he said, such as Block Island, Nantucket, and Martha’s Vineyard, but “they’re hard to get to. . . . Montauk is a within a two-and-a-half-hour drive from the capital of the world.” 

    Mr. Chapin happens to list an oceanfront property, along with Ray Lord III, for $9.1 million on Surfside Avenue. The one-acre land “slopes gently” to the beach, he said, rather than ending at a steep bluff that could prove “fatal.” “Surfside is one of the only entirely residential streets on the ocean in Montauk,” he said, referring to streets such as Old Montauk Highway that have mixed zoning.

    John Keeshan, who founded Keeshan Real Estate, which is now run by his daughter, said that “The people with money recognize that it is an important time to get on board. The high-end properties have the potential to gain the most.”

    The former enclave of fishing shanties, ranch houses, and humble beach cottages, even trailers, has become a magnet for high-end buyers. There were four transfers of properties between $2 million and $5 million in this year’s first quarter compared to none in that quarter in 2012, and five between $2 million and $3.5 million, up 67 percent from the equivalent period last year.  

    Sotheby’s lists a 13-acre equestrian ranch called Startop. Though not on the water, it boasts “360-degree views from Long Island Sound [sic.] across the Montauk moorlands to the Atlantic Ocean.” The agency also lists a three-acre lot on the ocean off Old Montauk Highway for $12.5 million.

    “For that [kind of] buyer, money isn’t the issue,” said Mr. Keeshan. At any rate, their “$13 million has a better chance of becoming $20 million. Their investment is almost more secure than anything else you can buy.”

    The drawback is that oceanfront properties are becoming more rare. “Fifty percent of Montauk is now eminent domain,” said Mr. Keeshan, pointing out that it is “a very good thing, but it limits potential for private ownership. If you want your own acre on the ocean you’re going to have to pay for it.”

    According to him, after oceanfront, hilltops with ocean views are the next most desirable locations, followed by East and West Lake Drives and the area near Culloden Point on the Sound. “If you’re on the north side of Old Montauk Highway, not the ocean side, you’re on a hilltop, you’re looking at $2.5 million for an acre or $1.5 for a half acre. . . . You have 180-degree views and can still walk through Hither Hills to the beach.”

    Mr. Keeshan shares the belief that all agents there seem to have, that “demand in Montauk is now greater than anywhere else in the Hamptons.” 

    Trouble is, inventory is scarce. “We’re scrambling around [trying to find it],” said Ms. Eurell. “This week alone I had three people who wanted to buy that oceanfront” property she just sold. What price range are they looking in? “They don’t have a price.”

    What’s attracting the new “young, entrepreneurial, successful” buyer, according to Mr. Keeshan, is the hamlet’s “raw natural beauty.” These are not the fishermen of yore. This is a new generation with “Land Rovers and surfboards. The Hamptons are very manicured,” he said. “Montauk is still wild.” Perhaps, not for long.

   “What was your first job in a restaurant?” I asked.

   “I was a hostess,” she answered. “I was 17. I didn’t even apply for the job.”

    Our waiter placed the appetizer, fried stuffed squash blossoms, in front of us.

    “Bon appetit,” he said in an accent that sounded authentically French.

    They were golden brown and crunchy on the outside and filled with creamy Brie and olive oil. We were sitting outside at a little table at a little French bistro on a little street in the West Village a little while ago, on one of those summer nights when you can’t tell the difference between the air and your skin and you seem to fit perfectly into the world.

    “What do you mean, you didn’t apply for the job? How did you get it then?” I asked her.

    “Well, I had gone in to eat lunch, and I was by myself because my cousin worked there, and he told me they were looking for someone and that I would get the job since I was pretty.” She shrugged as if the fact of her beauty was of no consequence.

    “Was that weird — I mean, that you were hired because of how you looked? Did it make you uncomfortable?”

    She waited while our waters were refilled. “Thank you,” we both murmured involuntarily.

    “I wasn’t uncomfortable, in the sense that I knew I would do a good job. I was confident in my ability.” She paused, biting her lip, thinking. “My whole life I’ve been dealing with people telling me how pretty I am, like strange men following me and stuff. But that summer I was completely objectified. I was told to wear certain dresses and the comments were obscene from the men sitting at the bar or waiting for tables. Somebody grabbed my ass.”

    “Did you tell the management?”

    “Yeah, but they were just like, ‘Oh, he’s a regular. He probably didn’t mean anything by it. It’s so crowded it was probably just an accident, he probably brushed you when he walked by.’ Stuff like that.”

    “Why didn’t you leave?”

    “I needed to save money for a car, for school. I didn’t want the hassle of finding a new job . . . and I liked the people, the ones I worked with and the ones I met at the door. It kept me busy and I knew that restaurant experience was something I could take with me when I went away to college.”

    The appetizer plates were cleared. “Would you like another glass of wine, madame?” the waiter asked us, winking. We both nodded.

    “So when you became a waitress, what was the biggest surprise for you?”

    “Um, I guess I was thrown by how frequently people dismissed me. The ones that treated me like I wasn’t even human or like I was sub-level. Like — look over there.” She indicated through the window to the bar, where a single woman was seated. The woman was looking down at her phone while asking the bartender something. He was attempting to answer her while also trying to slide a place mat in front of her, but she didn’t pick up her elbows to accommodate him.

    “I mean,” she continued, “if you’re going out to eat, be conscious of your surroundings. I get that I’m here to wait on you, but sometimes you have to meet me halfway.”

    “But as a paying guest, don’t you think she has the right to act in a way that’s most comfortable for her?”

    “Sure, to a point. But that was just rude,” she said and shook her head.

    “Madame,” said the waiter. I leaned back and he placed a tarte flambée on the table. “Bon appetit,” he said again.

    “Excuse me, do you mind if I ask you where you’re from?”

    “Ah, well. Me, I’m from Argentina, actually. But I’ve been working in this beautiful restaurant for 18 years and I find that people who are dining in a French restaurant prefer their waiters to sound French.” He laughed.

    “Did people give you a hard time because of your Spanish accent?”

    “Well, let me tell you that it made it difficult to interact, and personally I wanted to learn and meet people, and it was easier with a French accent. But let me tell you, the rudest customer I ever had was offended when I call her ‘Madame.’ She said, ‘This is America. Why did you call me that?’ I cannot believe it. But, you know, I have dignity. I was proud of how I handled it. I’m still happy, laughing, enjoying myself. I don’t have customers; I have friends. You beautiful ladies enjoy your dinner. You need anything, I’m right here.”

    I watched him walk down his row of tables, checking on each one in turn, smiling, asking a question, clearing a plate. We bit into our entrees and sighed at the flavor. We lifted our glasses of wine and drank. Our bodies melted into the air and all around us people ate and drank and the waiters waited.

    Trucks parked on the “baby beach” at Maidstone Park remain an eyesore and a hazard to children, according to three residents who addressed the East Hampton Town Trustees at their meeting on Tuesday night.

    As previously reported, members of the Springs Advisory Committee complained to the trustees about the beach at the mouth of Three Mile Harbor, which many beachgoers favor over the adjacent, larger beach on Gardiner’s Bay.

    “In the last few years I’ve gotten extremely upset with what has happened to that area,” Phyllis Italiano told the trustees. “Now it’s a parking lot. Trucks are parked six inches from the water. They’re not driving. I don’t understand why — there is a huge parking lot 50 feet away.”

    Was a truck parked so close to the water that it blocked access, Debbie Klughers, a trustee, asked. “Absolutely, and it wasn’t one, it was three,” was the answer. Ms. Italiano told the trustees that she has counted as many as 20 trucks parked on the sand. “This is not beach driving,” she said. “This isn’t the Bonac tradition of going from one part of ocean beach to the other. This is just parking. I don’t understand it. It has ruined one of the loveliest sites in East Hampton.”

    She also warned of the danger trucks on the beach posed to children. “It’s an accident waiting to happen,” she said.

    Connie Dondore, who said she has lived in Maidstone Park since 1982, also came to plead with the board to “do something about baby beach.” Trucks, she said, occupy space on the beach throughout the day while abundant parking is close by at the pavilion and on the road that rings the park.

    “This started in 2009 when the town imposed a fee for resident parking,” she said. “People were so upset at having to pay to park at their own beaches that the town rescinded it. But the trucks stayed. Many don’t have resident stickers, a lot also don’t have beach-driving stickers.” Ms. Dondore asserted that the beach and dunes have eroded. “I’m pleading with the town and trustees to do something about this. It’s an eyesore and a danger for the children, and there’s no reason for it.”

    The beach in question is not a designated bathing beach, said Loring Bolger, the chairwoman of the Springs Citizens Advisory Committee, who had addressed the trustees last month, “but it is an area used by parents with small children.” She also suggested that signs detailing parking and permit regulations, at present housed in the trustees’ meeting room at the Lamb Building in Amagansett due to incorrect verbiage, be posted, with proper wording, ahead of next year’s bathing season.

    Lynn Mendelman, a trustee, said that the “baby beach” designation came about “because it was a smaller beach, not that it was for babies,” while another trustee, Sean McCaffrey, remembered it being known as “crab beach.”

    Diane McNally, the clerk of the trustees, told Ms. Bolger that they would ask the town for increased enforcement of permits and access. If people see illegal action, she said, they should call the police and the Marine Patrol.

Dead Dolphins

    Also at the meeting, Ms. Klughers brought to her colleagues’ attention the recent spate of dead or dying bottlenose dolphins that have washed up on shores from New York to Virginia, including one in Montauk. Calling it an unusual mortality event, she reminded her colleagues that the Riverhead Foundation for Marine Research and Preservation is the only rehabilitation facility between East Hampton and Florida, and that she had asked, last month, that the trustees draft a letter to the town board in support of waiving parking-permit requirements for its personnel. Some members of the organization have received parking tickets while responding to beachings and other such incidents, she had told the trustees.

    Authority to determine what is done with a dead or dying marine mammal on town beaches rests with the trustees. Lifeguards and police officers should be made aware of the phenomenon, Ms. Klughers said, and should have protective gloves and other gear. “If this escalates, you’re not going to want to bury these things,” she said.

    In July, 89 dolphins were beached, a sevenfold increase over a typical month. It is not yet known what is behind the die-off, but an infection that led to more than 700 dolphin beachings on the East Coast over a nearly yearlong period in 1987 and 1988 is one suspected culprit.

    A glance at the summer’s real estate transfers as recorded in the deeds of Sag Harbor Village might suggest that the number of sales in the quaint enclave has been going down, and quarterly property reports so far this year reflect that, too. The number of transactions fell in the second quarter from 14 in 2012 to 12 this year (a 14-percent decline), but their value, at $21 million, was up a substantial 49 percent.

    “Looking at the transfers is like trying to detect light from a distant star,” according to Chris Chapin, an agent at Douglas Elliman who still lives in the Elizabeth Street house his mother, Monja Kulczycki, was born in. He rattles off a litany of steps that take place before a sale shows up in the recorded deeds, but the main delay, he said, is lawyers. “Things happen much faster upstate and in many other states,” he said, “where realtors are empowered to do the contract.”

    And there’s another wrinkle, at least with this year’s transfers. The county is behind with its paperwork, according to Ernie Cervi, executive managing director at Corcoran, based in Bridgehampton, “after the rush to close at end of year to avoid taxes,” he said. “The county reported one sale for June across the East End,” he said. “Last year there were 45 during the same period, so you know they’re backed up . . . and they’re still playing catch-up.”

    As Mark Twain famously said, there are “lies, damned lies, and statistics.” And the statistics quoted earlier don’t bear out verbal reports from real estate professionals who know the score. “Sales activity across the board is really up in 2013,” according to Cee Scott Brown, an associate broker with Corcoran based in Sag Harbor, who reports that many properties have commanded more than the asking price. “I’ve sold, myself, four in three months,” he said last Thursday. “And I have another closing tomorrow, and another going into contract so that’s six. . . . I’m sure there are others doing the same.”

    There are. Jane Holden, a broker in the Sag Harbor office of Brown Harris Stevens, reported that “a lot of things are in contract that aren’t closing till September because tenants are in houses.” Ditto for several other agents.

    “I would say when the real estate market is in a slump, Sag Harbor seems to hold its own,” said the village’s mayor, Brian Gilbride, a lifelong resident.

    Let’s not forget about the Bulova watchcase factory. Mr. Brown, along with his partner, Jack Pearson, is the lead broker on the project, and it is selling like proverbial hotcakes, he said. Out of a total of 47 units ranging in price from $800,000 to $10.2 million in the still-being-renovated factory building (there are 17 units in new town houses), a whopping 30 are in contract, and the site has only been open for previews in the last six weeks.

    There seem to be several factors attracting people to Sag Harbor, not the least of which is its authenticity. Paul Brennan, a broker in Bridgehampton who admits he is “not a Sag Harborite,” but is certainly a born and bred South Forker, sums it up nicely: “People love it because there’s a sense of place. . . . It’s the most New England of all the hamlets and villages out here,” its location being directly “on the sea.”

    One thing is true, once a family is entrenched there, they don’t want to leave. “There seems to be a significant number of properties held in perpetuity within families, often with the intent to hold onto it from generation to generation,” said Scott Strough, the principal of Strough Associates, who has practiced real estate in the village for more than 30 years. “There are many properties within the village that have never come on the market, especially in the historic district.”

    It stands to reason that a whaling captain’s manse, or even a fisherman’s shanty, would have more emotional resonance than an interchangeable McMansion built within the last decade or so — no matter how grand. What’s more, there are buyers on the lookout “for the last remnants of any property that can be fixed up and upgraded.” Lo and behold, “there still are some properties out there,” said Mr. Strough. 

    “There’s a community pride in the fact that it has retained a cultural presence as a hometown village, compared to the other villages. There is still a certain integrity as far as operating mom and pop — the 5 and 10, the pharmacy, Schiavoni’s. . . .”

    Many residents play musical houses, skipping from one dwelling to the next, unwilling to leave the enchanting environs of the village. Ann Chwatsky, a photographer, and her husband, Howard, bought their first village house in winter for a song. It was on Jermain Avenue, and come spring when the traffic began to flow, they discovered why they had gotten such a deal. So they moved to John Street with its antique houses, and were content for many years until 2007, when they heeded the call to North Haven, with its ample bucolic lots. But missing village life, the couple moved back this summer, this time to Glover Street, very similar in vintage and character to John Street. “There’s just so much going on” in the village, Ms. Chwatsky said. “Nobody wants to leave. There’s a real feeling rather than some of the other towns that feel more transient.”

    Elfie and Michael Eicke, who own the historic Christy’s building on Main Street that houses an antiques shop and gallery, have just put their sprawling European-style spread, hidden away on Bay Street, on the market for nearly $5 million. With their children grown, they no longer feel the need to navigate the rambling property and intend to move into an apartment over their shop. Once bewitched, “you’ll never leave Sag Harbor,” said Ms. Eicke. “It’s the best place to live.”

    Everyone you speak to mentions the walkability of the village, a place where you can stroll from home to the movie theater to galleries, shops, and restaurants. They also mention the schools, a huge draw to families, especially the elementary school, which has a stellar reputation. “Sag Harbor is a place where people put down roots. They want to stay and raise their kids . . . because everything is close together, they know their neighbors,” said Mr. Chapin.

    Even residents from other South Fork locales are trading in their high-maintenance acreage for a pied-a-terre at Bulova, where the concierge, porters, superintendent, landscapers, and pool attendants will be able to see to their every need. Many of the buyers Mr. Brown has seen are “people who have no interest in trimming their hedges anymore.” In Sag Harbor, he said, “you can treat the whole village as your yard and grounds.” 

    Scores on state elementary school tests landed with a thud on the South Fork last week, as they did throughout the region, with teachers and administrations left to  grapple with failure rates that had, in some instances, more than doubled.

    Though the decline had been predicted by the New York State Education Department in the months before the results were released, the impact was unsettling, particularly as a new academic year begins in a few weeks.

    The drop in scores is mostly due to a recent change in curriculum based on a new national set of standards called the Common Core, which is meant to improve critical thinking and problem solving. Students from third through eighth grade in public schools took the tests in the spring. The results were the first assessments of whether the Common Core has taken hold.

    New York is one of 45 states that have adopted the benchmarks, which in English language arts test students on fiction and nonfiction, using not only multiple-choice questions but short essays. Last year, Kentucky was the first state to introduce Common Core-aligned tests. It reported a similar drop in scores.

    Across New York State, only 31 percent of students either met or exceeded proficiency, meaning they received a score of either 3 or 4 on the new exam. In Suffolk County, 33 percent of students passed the math exam, while 36 percent passed the English language arts test. By contrast, last year’s passage rates in Suffolk County were nearly 73 percent in math and 64 percent in English language.

    Locally, Amagansett outperformed its neighboring districts, with 71 percent passage in the third-grade English language arts test and 14 students in the class, for example. Not only are class sizes small in Amagansett — only 14 took the third-grade English test — but it does not have a seventh or eighth grade. Other local schools had better results in some of the upper grades with the Montauk School coming in first in seventh-grade English and math and first and third in those tests in the eighth grade. There were 28 to 30 students in each of these grades.

    The difference in test performance can partly be explained by the small number of students in many East End schools and the divergent demographics. Though in proximity, often separated by only a few miles, student populations vary.

    In Springs only 18 percent of 63 third graders passed the English exam. Of the five students enrolled in third grade in Bridgehampton, 60 percent passed the English test, as did 54 percent of 26 third graders in Montauk. In Sag Harbor, 35 percent of 89 third graders passed the test; in East Hampton it was 31 percent of 93 students tested.

    Among sixth graders, Amagansett again outperformed local districts, with 57 percent passing both English and math. Springs ranked not far behind, with 55 percent passing English and 45 ranked near the middle of the heap, with 44 percent of sixth graders passing the English exam and 38 percent passing math. Only 25 percent of Bridgehampton’s 15 sixth graders passed English and only 24 percent of Sag Harbor’s 83 sixth graders passed the math exam, ranking both schools as the lowest performers in that grade.

    For the 2011-12 year, the East Hampton School District reported an enrollment of 1,841 students in prekindergarten through 12th grade, with an average class size of 21. Nearly a quarter of East Hampton’s students qualified for either a free or reduced-price lunch, in a student body that is 51 percent white and 41 percent Latino.

    The Springs School District reported an enrollment of 650 students — an increase of 47 students since 2009. The average class size was 21. As in East Hampton, nearly a quarter of Springs students qualify for either a free or reduced-price lunch in a student body that is increasingly Latino. White students totaled 45 percent, while Latinos numbered 51 percent.

    The Amagansett School District enrolled 101 students in prekindergarten through sixth grade and reported an average class size of 15 students. None of its students were eligible for reduced-price lunches and its student body was 74 percent white and just 10 percent Latino.

    “One of the many targets of the Common Core is filling those gaps between the different socioeconomic groups,”  Robert Tymann, East Hampton’s assistant superintendent, said. “It’s not going to happen overnight. It’s a huge change and it will take three to five years to properly implement.”

    When examining the results, Mr. Tymann said he looked at regional as well as countywide results. “Everybody went down. Did we go down more or less than the average? We went down less than the average,” he concluded, though he noted the challenge remains for East Hampton to improve its standing while also serving a large population of English language learners.

    Eric Casale, the principal of the Springs School, said some of the differences in performance can be explained by demographics — but not all of it. For many of his students, time proved to be an issue, with some unable to finish the exam.

    “It was a big secret and now that we have an expectation of what the tests are like, we can tailor our program to be a bit more comprehensive,” Mr. Casale said, echoing the Education Department’s view that this year’s results should be viewed as a baseline, rather than  compared to last year’s.

    “It will be interesting to see how schools do next year, now that the baseline has been set,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with ramping up expectations for kids. They will rise to meet that challenge.”

    Although the Amagansett School came out with flying colors, Eleanor Tritt, who has served as the Amagansett School’s superintendent since 2008, questions the necessity and effect of such testing, particularly on the self-esteem of students.

    “We feel this validates our program, but what we’re really concerned about is how the children will react to it,” Ms. Tritt said. “Adults can understand that the state changed the criteria but for children, it’s not that easily comprehendible.”

    She said the increase in high-stakes testing is a great worry. “I don’t think any educator feels that all this testing is good for kids. We really feel it has a negative impact on not only students, but their perceptions,” she said.

    Mark Naison, a 10-year resident of Springs and professor of African-American studies and history at Fordham University, is in agreement. He is one of three founders of the Badass Teachers Association, a group dedicated to education reform. Its Facebook page lists nearly 25,000 members.

    He said there had been a precipitous drop among special needs and English language learners. “A lot of people feel that this test is totally inappropriate to give to those categories of students, and is actually humiliating and discouraging to those students. Also, the scores almost precisely correlate along socioeconomic lines.” Mr. Naison said he was concerned by what he described as a “one-size-fits-all” approach to testing, an outcome that easily results in students who are likely to perform poorly on tests being subjected to endless drilling.

     “It makes school hell. All they do is drill,” Mr. Naison said. “It makes teachers’ lives miserable, and it makes children hate school.”

    Earlier this spring, across the city and also on Long Island, thousands of parents banded together and opted out of the state exams, though no local schools did so. Given last week’s results, Mr. Naison predicted the movement will grow.

    “These proficiency scores do not reflect a drop in performance, but rather a raising of standards to reflect college and career readiness in the 21st century,” said John B. King Jr., the New York State Commissioner of Education.

    “I understand these scores are sobering for parents, teachers, and principals. It’s frustrating to see our children struggle. But we can’t allow ourselves to be paralyzed by frustration; we must be energized by this opportunity,” Mr. King said.

   My first job in food service was as a dishwasher at a deli-cafe-catering company. It was the summer of my junior year in high school.

    Due to the lack of staffing, I did a little bit of everything: took orders, delivered food, spread cream cheese on bagels, wrapped thousands of figs (cut in half, with a dab of goat cheese) in thin strips of salty prosciutto to be later served as hors d’oeuvres by me at a 200-person wedding in the August heat. And after the wedding was over we walked around the tables stacking plates, collecting wine and champagne glasses, each of us with Dixie cups into which we’d pour leftover alcohol and drink it behind the catering tent before we went home for the night.

    I’ve worked in the kitchen at a summer camp, cooking, serving, and cleaning for 300 campers and counselors. The head chef was a Jamaican lady who kept a two-gallon jar of pickled Scotch Bonnets she used to season the jerk chicken and to scare us into submission by threatening to slip them into our food.

    In college I became a hostess and bartender, and then a waitress. The first time I walked up to greet a table, I felt like I was onstage. There I was, talking to a strange, captive audience, all eyes on me, my stomach full of opening-night butterflies.

    I’ve been told to speak louder, smile more, be more confident, take as many drink orders as you can, always assume the guest needs change, don’t talk about tips on the floor, don’t paint your nails, smile more, warn the parents that the plates are hot, ask if they would like their children’s food to come out first, try everything on the menu so you can give an honest opinion, learn the menu backward and forward, be able to recite the menu in your sleep, smile more.

    Sometimes I’m awkward. When the restaurant fills up and there’s background noise and I can’t hear what guests are saying to me, I smile and nod and repeat out loud everything:

    “You’ll have the cod, great!”

    “No, the Cobb.”

    “The cod?”

    “The Cobb salad.”

    “Oh. My hearing,” I cup my left hand behind my ear. “I must be getting old,” and as I’m speaking I realize the woman is in her 80s at least, and then I blush and stammer out a “thank you’” and walk quickly away from the table.

    As far as making mistakes, a little bit of awkwardness never hurt anyone. It’s not as bad as dropping something or spilling a drink, all of which I’ve done.

    The time I tipped a tray and a Sam Adams spilled all over a woman’s lap. “I’m so sorry!”

    “Well,” said the woman to her friends. “I guess this night could get worse.” And then I melted into a puddle on the floor.

    The time a plate slipped out of my hand as I was clearing off a table and crushed a man’s glasses. “I’m so sorry!”

    “It’s okay,” he said, “I needed a new pair.”

    But nothing is quite so awful as realizing you’ve forgotten to put in someone’s order. I’ve never met a server who hasn’t experienced the frightening drop of their stomach, felt the hot flush of panic rise up through their neck and spread out across their face. It’s a sudden overwhelming rush of adrenaline, dread, and hysteria when you figure out the reason why Table 40 has not received their appetizers. Then you have to deal with the kitchen, which is simultaneously pissed off and gleeful at your screw-up.

    I’ve always enjoyed being around kitchens, enjoyed the anonymity of being a pair of hands delivering food, moving between tables to answer someone’s beckoning. Though sometimes it bothers me when people don’t make eye contact, I take pleasure in being able to slip a glass off a table, fill it with water, and replace it without disturbing the conversation.

    A good waitress is like air, someone once told me. She will be indispensable to the table, but the table won’t even notice they need her. This is my job; this is why I’m here.