Everyone wants to live on an island. I know I do.

Every time I climb on a ferry to leave North Haven, Vinalhaven or Islesboro, I wonder why. Of course it is impossible to get a house on any island now, because of the prohibitive expense. But you have to think about it.

Phil Crossman understands all of this.

Crossman, who may or may not be nude on the cover of his new book, “Away Happens” (UPNE Press), is a skilled human observer from his Tidewater Motel on Vinalhaven. He also writes a column for Working Waterfront and has brightened the pages of Maine Times, Down East and Yankee.

“Here is Here and Away is not. One thousand, two hundred and seventy-six people live here. Billions more live Away than live Here, although, increasingly, during the summer, it seems otherwise,” Crossman tells us.

There is something special about an island. You have to admit that. And we don’t know the half of it.

When a Vinalhaven resident dies – a year-rounder or a summer complaint – a basket with a scrap of paper with the name of the deceased appears at Carlene’s Paper Store, the community’s social center. No matter if the dearly departed was a lobsterman-millionaire, a retired millionaire or a simple motel owner, islanders know enough (without being told) to sign the paper and leave a contribution.

When a baby is born to an islander, an announcement appears in the front window of Bob’s Hardware Store, and a flag is flown announcing the birth and gender.

“The presence of the flag or basket is how most of us keep abreast of comings and goings,” Crossman reports.

Crossman is still complaining about island voting irregularities in 2000, when he had the audacity to run for selectman against the aforementioned Carlene.

He lost.

It wasn’t the losing that bothered him so much. It was that he was not called with the results on election night, as is island custom. The results were not posted on the town office door, as is island custom.

A comprehensive investigation conducted by Crossman determined that “highly placed sources from within Carlene’s organization reported that she and her employees abandoned subtlety in communicating to Carlene’s Paper Store patrons that if the election results were not favorable, the time might come when one or another of them, upon death, might not merit the customary basket on the counter, that no donations would be forthcoming, that their passing, their very lives, might go entirely unnoticed.

“For these reasons I am, for the moment and while I await the results of an investigation, withholding my concession,” Crossman said.

And that was five years ago.

Now that’s island living.

Mrs. Crossman once made the almost fatal mistake of leaving Phil alone to prepare the Thanksgiving turkey. An almost skilled handyman, Crossman completed the job of stuffing and trussing the bird with a power drill, tin snips and deck screws. He lathered the bird with oil and dropped it on the floor, naturally, just as the missus walked through the front door.

“As I write, I am down here in the cellar with my dog and drill and the snips and my orderly assortment of fasteners. I have been advised that I can come up again around noon,” Crossman complains.

“Away Happens” is worth the price, no matter what it is. There is none on my copy. Maybe it is free.

Could be an island thing.

Send complaints and compliments to Emmet Meara at emmetmeara@msn.com.