They call it the Point.
The summer estate is near a town with blue and grey clapboard houses and a small river that empties into the ocean. Ducks bob in-between the boats moored to the river’s embankment. The town’s population doubles in the summer.
From above, the stretch of coastline resembles the profile of a smoking, bearded man. The six-acre compound juts into the Atlantic on the cigarette. They call it the Point. On satellite images it is possible to make out the pool, the tennis court, the security booth, the guest cottages, and the main house, surrounded by the white ash of waves breaking against the rocky shore. Years ago an extreme nor’easter ripped open the first floor and 30-foot swells dragged the living room out to the sea. The owners were the most upset about their lost family photo albums. They have five children and 14 grandchildren, who call them “Ganny” and “Gampy”. The grandchildren are collectively referred to as …