As you take a train to Rockaway Beach, you undoubtedly notice a small place on the bay side of the long trestle, just beyond the railroad station at Aqueduct. Boats, fishing smacks, nets, sloops, and rowboats abound in that area, leading you to mistakenly categorize it as a fisherman’s settlement of the poorer class. However, you need to be corrected. Ramblersville is the most interesting of all the little places on Jamaica Bay.

Arguably the smallest neighborhood in New York City, Ramblersville, also known as Hamilton Beach, consists of three spits of land between Howard Beach and JFK International Airport. These land formations extend into a hooked strip of water called Hawtree Basin, which connects with Bergen Basin and Shellbank Basin before flowing into Jamaica Bay.

Here, water shapes the way of life. All the streets in Ramblersville culminate in Hawtree Basin, and canals are spanned by crisscrossing bridges. On a weekend afternoon in early spring, the air resonates with sounds that evoke another era: seagulls cawing, men hammering hollowly as they mend a wooden dock, dogs barking at front doors, their noses leaving streaks on the storm glass, and mothers calling out to their kids, who swiftly pedal past on bikes, weaving through the cul-de-sacs.

Rainbow whirligigs and patriotic flags adorn the neighborhood of Ramblersville, along with Easter and Saint Patrick’s Day decorations. Mailboxes take on whimsical shapes, resembling churches, barns, lighthouses, or sometimes all three.

Although planes from JFK rumble closely over rooftops, and the A train rattles past just yards from the doorsteps (the gleaming Howard Beach AirTrain station is a short walk away across a marsh), this neighborhood exudes a sense of being out of step with urban life. Bayview Avenue, a wooden boardwalk flanked by picket fences, defines one street. Boats are typical, parked on trailers in driveways, bumping against docks, lying belly up by the sides of roads, and stashed in vacant lots surrounded by beach grass. If the chickens in this yard were to take flight, they would see the sparkling waters of Jamaica Bay connecting this sleepy neighborhood to the world.

Beneath each of the Dead End signs along 104th Street, which is as close to Main Street as Ramblersville has, despite its Broadway, some local children have tacked wooden stars painted with inspirational messages. Most have faded in the sea breeze, but one message remains visible: “You can do whatever you think you can.” This adage serves as a fitting reminder that there is always more to explore in New York, even when you think you’ve come to its end.