Moving to an island of 300 people, it took effort to become a local. But that hard work paid off

Excerpt from theguardian.com

“You’ll lose your friends,” said one of those friends when I moved to Dangar Island. As a migrant, with only two daughters and husband nearby, I was looking for community.

Accessed by boat, a little over 300 people live on Dangar Island, on the northern outskirts of Sydney on the Hawkesbury River.

I’d visited the island many times – we shared a weekender there with friends. But when the girls left home and my husband retired, we moved to Dangar permanently. We didn’t go blindly. Armed with our boat licences, we understood some of the trials of living on an island. We knew a few people by name and others by sight.

I quickly learned that it takes time and effort to become part of a community. It takes even longer to become accepted as a local.

I set to work. I volunteered for the Hall Committee, taking on the unenviable role of secretary. I invited people to dinner. I invited them again. To meet people, I regularly went to what was then a community-run cafe for coffee. Over one such coffee, Michael, who is now a dear friend, cajoled me into participating in an art show to raise funds for the cafe.