When your correspondent was last seen wandering around downtown Plymouth, he hadn’t made it north of Town Hall and realized his job was not yet done. There was much more to be explored, much more for a newcomer to discover.
But before we head beyond Town Hall, there’s at least one gem south of there that must be mentioned: the Plymouth Center for the Arts on North Street. This beautiful, light-filled space is an art gallery, sculpture garden, retail outlet for regional craftspeople, and event space for book talks, lectures, classes, and workshops. What the center brings to the town cannot be overstated or easily summarized. Celebrating the arts has been the foundation of many a small town or city’s resurrection, from tiny Marfa in west Texas (population 1,788) to North Adams, (population 13,000), home to the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art (MassMOCA). Similarly, the Center for the Arts adds a healthy dose of vitality, sophistication, and interest to downtown.
Those who have called Plymouth home for much longer than me will remember the North Street center as the public library, known as the Russell Library, along with The Lindens annex. In 1991, the library opened the far more spacious building on South Street. The North Street complex was sold 23 years ago, and the Guild took it over in 2007.
A downtown curiosity, still slightly south of Town Hall, is Long House Axe Throwing on Main Street. Frankly, I didn’t know axe throwing was a thing, but I was ill-informed. It immediately called to mind the actor Ed Ames, who played a Cherokee named Mingo on the 1960s TV show “Daniel Boone,” demonstrating his tomahawk throwing skills on “The Tonight Show” starring Johnny Carson. If you’ve never seen it, treat yourself to one of the greatest moments in the history of late night and you’ll immediately grasp the appeal of axe throwing.
Long House describes itself as a place to “unleash your inner Viking,” which sounds more exciting than unleashing your inner Pilgrim. You can also drink beer while throwing an axe, which strikes me as a potentially ill-advised combination, kind of like putting a shooting range in a cannabis shop. But it’s not as if they haven’t thought about the risks: before you launch into your best imitation of Luis Tiant winding-up with an axe in hand, you must sign a waiver acknowledging you are “familiar with the risk of serious injury and death” involved in axe throwing. I’m not sure what they mean by “familiar.”
My trepidation grew when I perused Long House’s website, which features a photo of the house knife throwing champion holding three formidable knives that look like they were forged in the Middle Ages (yes, you can also throw knives). I suspect from the menacing and slightly deranged look on his face that he was just mugging for the camera, because he looks like someone who shouldn’t be allowed to play with anything sharper than a tennis ball.
I gave it a go at Long House, minus the beer. It took me a few lame throws, but with instruction from staff member Sean Armstrong, I finally buried the hatchet in the wooden target on about the fifth throw, even if I was way off the bullseye. It’s oddly satisfying to hear that thwack and see the axe lodged in the wood. I imagine that it’s like swishing a three-pointer at the buzzer or hitting a 300-yard drive straight down the fairway. To be good at this takes real skill and practice.
Tonya Melita, of Carver, was there with her husband Angelo and their two boys – soon to be nine and six. Tonya told me she really enjoys throwing axes and knives.
“It’s a different kind of challenge and a little coaching goes a long way,” she said. “It’s not about power.”
Kids under 10 throw plastic knives at a soft target (whew), as the Melita boys were with abandon.
Most impressive however, was watching Emma Battles, who manages Kiskadee Coffee during the day and works at Long House in the evening. With the blade drawn back near the tip of her right ear, she throws daggers with speed and astonishing accuracy. “I was good when I started,” she said, “and it felt so good I just wanted to get better at it.” But take my advice: If you’re not happy with your coffee at Kiskadee, compliment the barista anyway and move on.
Though Sean says they’ve never had anything more than a minor injury (he didn’t define “minor”), I was surprised that you can stand fairly close behind the throwers with no protective screen in case someone loses it on the backswing. “We’re very safe here,” Sean assured me.
Long House is one of more than 300 independent axe throwing venues worldwide, most of them in North America, that belong to the World Axe Throwing League, a quasi-trade association that seeks to elevate the sport. We’re on the cutting edge of axe throwing in Plymouth, folks.
For a very different experience, something demurer, it’s hard to miss Shelly’s Tea Rooms on Court Street. An authentic, red British-style phone booth stands on the sidewalk outside. (For younger readers wondering what a phone booth is, Google it.)
Proprietors Shelly and Sean Sinclair had long considered moving to the States from the U.K., where they owned two tea rooms, one near Canterbury and the other near Dover. Shelly presides over the tea room with classic British graciousness and a rich English accent and upbeat demeanor reminiscent of Mary Poppins. On a visit a few years ago, she and Sean were taken by Plymouth and its connection to their native country. They decided to sell their tea rooms in England and open one here. Three years ago, they moved to Plymouth with their two children and Buddy, a very mellow eight-year-old Golden Retriever, who spends his days chilling at Shelly’s.
In addition to the dine-in menu – featuring more than 100 types of tea and a variety of house-made scones, crumpets, finger sandwiches, cakes, and tarts – you can buy an assortment of British goods from loose teas to clotted cream.
“We make all own scones,” Shelly told me. “And we freeze some uncooked that you can bake at home.” Shelly’s Tea Rooms is truly a taste of England in Plymouth.
Now, back to sharp, bladed instruments. A few doors down from Shelley’s I wandered into Yankee Woodcarvers, drawn by the abundance of handsome hand-crafted wooden signs on display outside. Inside the small, pleasantly cluttered space I found an amiable Michael McCarthy, the woodcarver-in-chief. The business was started by his father Paul in 1969, from whom he learned the trade. “The school of hard knocks,” he told me, referring to his Irish father.
There’s little to be purchased here – almost everything Michael makes is commissioned by customers, mostly from up and down the South Shore. When I visited, he was working on a piece for a customer in Wyoming who found him on the Internet. He has shipped his work as far away as Australia.
Michael takes the craft seriously. For a totem pole commissioned for the Boy Scouts’ Camp Squanto in Myles Standish State Park, he had a large piece of red cedar trucked from the west coast at a cost of $8,000. “Cedar,” he said, “is superior to pine.” That’s too bad because if there’s one thing Plymouth has plenty of it’s pine. And, as I am learning, it also has plenty to do, too.
Peter Zheutlin – a freelance journalist who has written frequently for The Boston Globe, The Christian Science Monitor, and many other publications – brings the perspective of a Plymouth newcomer to the Independent. He is the author or co-author of nine books, including “The Dog Went Over the Mountain: Travels with Albie, An American Journey,” winner of the Lowell Thomas Travel Writing Award. Zheutlin can be reached at pzheutlin@gmail.com.