Found in winter, kept for summers.

Eric found the property in the dead of winter, sledding along the frozen shore with his daughters, and bought it before the ice went out. That was 1983, and the family, then based in Lincoln, Massachusetts, has spent every summer since making the drive north. Eric still keeps his summers here while the second generation continues to build the legacy, and the third generation is growing up watching their parents set an intimidating standard for how to spend a summer.

Not much changes from year to year, which is exactly how everyone likes it: long porches, slow mornings, and the loons, who winter on the coast and come back every summer, just like everyone else. There are no televisions in the rooms, a fact nobody has complained about since the Sandbar opened.