A Fog Gatekeeping Guide for Beginners

So you got off the ferry this morning and the visibility was down to, what, maybe half a mile? And you told your friend it was "so foggy" on Nantucket?

Oh, honey. No.

That little mist you experienced? That's called "humidity with ambition." That's the fog's second cousin who shows up to Thanksgiving but doesn't really contribute. That's a weather system with commitment issues.

Let me tell you about actual fog.

A Fog Rating Scale

Level 1: "Atmospheric"
This is what you saw today. Visibility maybe a quarter mile. You can still see the lighthouse from Brant Point. The ferry runs on time. Your Instagram photos look "moody." Tourists declare it "fog." Year-rounders call it "Tuesday morning."

Level 2: "Now We're Getting Somewhere"
Can't see past the end of the wharf. Ferry delays start. Planes are grounded. You can hear the foghorn from Sankaty but can't see your neighbor's house. This is when the island starts to feel properly isolated. We approve of this fog.

Level 3: "The Good Stuff"
You cannot see your own mailbox. The ferry has given up entirely. Planes won't fly for two days. The foghorn becomes your new roommate. Your phone says "Nantucket" might as well say "Mars." The grocery store runs low on bread. Tourists panic. Locals make soup.

Level 4: "The Fog of '97"
I'm not going to tell you about the fog of '97. You wouldn't believe me. But I will say this: my cousin Teddy walked to the mailbox and didn't find his way back for three hours. The mailbox was forty feet from the door. We still don't talk about what he heard out there.

A Word on Photography

If you can take a clear photo of yourself in the fog, it's not fog. Real fog doesn't allow for vanity. Real fog is not interested in your content calendar. Real fog looked at your iPhone and laughed.

The Point

Look, I'm not saying your fog experience wasn't valid. I'm just saying there are levels to this. Generations of my family have been stranded on this island by weather you can't pronounce, let alone photograph.

So next time you experience some light mist and want to call it "fog," just... maybe check with a local first. We've earned our fog gatekeeping. We paid for it in cancelled ferries and three-hour mailbox trips.

But I'm not bitter. I'm just accurate.