Columns

Column: Olfactory Island

REPORTER FILE PHOTO What's that smell?
REPORTER FILE PHOTO What’s that smell?

A few summers back, Bond No. 9, a luxury fragrance brand, made a bold announcement. They released their newest scent called “Shelter Island,” declaring, “The East End is now fully perfumed.”

Bond No. 9 had released a bevy of new fragrances with names evocative of wealth, power and luxury; names such as Hamptons, Montauk and Sag Harbor. Prices were similarly aspirational — $295 for 100 milliliters, an amount so tiny it would sail through security at JFK.

Bond No. 9’s advertising for Shelter Island describes it as a summer beach scent with “an astonishing marine oud.” Thinking oud must be a new variety of hot pepper grown on the shores of the Creek by the Sylvester Manor Farm, I investigated further.

Shelter Island perfume contains notes of citrus zest, black pepper, white lilies, algae extract, sandalwood, amber, myrrh and musk in addition to oud, which turns out to be oil derived from a resin excreted by the wood of a mold-infected South American tree.

Of the ingredients Bond No. 9 used to make a scent to represent Shelter Island, only the white lilies and the algae are actually found here, and since we’ve been doing much better on getting a handle on the algae lately, I’m not sure that one even counts.

There might still be some in Fresh Pond.

Is monetizing the smell of Shelter Island with a pricey perfume a steep tilt in the decline of civilization, or a long-awaited recognition of how sweet it is on this rocky pile of glacial till?  More to the point, what do people who live here think home smells like?

I asked my neighbor, Quinn Hundgen, a 2014 graduate of Shelter Island High School, to describe the scent of Shelter Island. I know Quinn has a good nose because, every time I bake a loaf of bread, I see Quinn out in the yard “walking his cat.”

He said, “Every smell is so much sharper here — the salty southwest wind on the ferry in summer, the crispness of woodsmoke in the winter. Outside on a starry night and the air is clear and cool with the scent of the untouched stars.”

Clearly Bond No. 9 would have been better off hiring Quinn, a junior at the University of Richmond, to write the ad copy for its Shelter Island scent instead of whoever came up with “astonishing marine oud.”

For many Islanders, salt is an important component of the smell of this place. “Coming across on the ferry that sweet and salty scent creates a feeling of calm for me,” said Nanette Breiner Lawrenson. “The shoulders drop, and the head clears.”

Maggie Murphy loves that salty marsh smell you can catch on the causeway to Ram Island, but admits it may just be her. “Not sure I would bottle that,” she said.

Jeanette Flynn said her daily walk on the beach provides “a wave of clean, salty aroma … a refreshing, peaceful, relaxing smell.”

One person’s perfume is another’s hygiene issue. Artist Jackie Black loves the smell of her wet dogs after swimming in saltwater, plus a whiff of clamming grounds at low tide inspires her. She also likes the smell of fresh mown grass, and blooming honeysuckle.

My question sent Jean Dickerson into a reverie: “Going back to my youth, I remember the odor of rotting lima bean vines.” Not exactly Proust’s madeleine, but no less evocative.

Brewmaster Jim Hull loves the smell of his local raspberry ale, “Isle of U,” as it’s brewing. League of Women Voters President Lois B. Morris smells lilac with top notes of barbecue.

Brooke Bradley, director of Camp Quinipet, had a synesthetic impression, “If smell was a color, it would be that mysterious blue green of sea glass; salty, pure and fresh.”

Also popular was the smell of the meadow on yellow trail of Mashomack, grassy and woodsy, and privet hedge flowers.
The scent of baking earth from garden soil comforts artist David Rankin with “memories of my father and before him a long line of Irishmen working in their vegetable gardens.”

It must be tough to be in the perfume business. Like the task of designing Kleenex boxes, maybe they just run out of ideas and have to resort to oud. But if Islanders were perfumers, Shelter Island’s scent profile would be salty and floral with notes of garden soil, rotting lima beans and wet dog.