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Sandy's Report from New Jersey

Hey Everyone!

Again, a bit behind in the e-mail accounts to all of you, but as I sit in a downpour here in Bellehaven, NC at Dowry Creek Marina, I have an opportunity to catch up...lucky you!

We left Atlantic Highlands after the Labor Day weekend and made our way around Sandy Hook to Manasquan, NJ. Docking there was a little tricky because of the current created by the tide running out. We had to weave through a very narrow opening in the railroad bridge which was only yards away from the dock. You got the feeling if you missed the dock on your first try, you would be swept immediately into the bridge. That would leave a mark.

Bac, of course, finessed his way in using the good ol' Hunter prop walk to port, and as my line handling and aim has improved, I was able to stop and snug us in with the spring and bow as he grabbed the stern line. Occasionally, we work like a well oiled machine, but there are still those days when I still get the look, "What the !@#! are you doing?" I give him the innocent "...ahhhh, I don't know, what?" look in return.

Upon docking, the owner flew down the dock in his golf cart and immediately began bossing Jeff about how he needed to be aware of the tides and how he should exactly tie up Manatee, "you folks have no idea coming from Ohio what you're doing...." Poor guy. He didn't know Bac was raised in Avalon, NJ his entire life, and little did he know that no one ever really tells Jeff how to tie up Manatee. You can suggest it, but...well, I whispered to Steve that I thought I saw blood dripping out of the corner of Bac's mouth ...apparently from a very good job of biting his tongue. Considering the docking conditions, the owner's know-it-all attitude; it was horribly expensive there for what you got in return for your dock fee. "If you're going to walk that dog, walk him up there by the road and make sure you clean up after him." Not our favorite place.

We left early the next morning for Barnegat Bay. You have to be a native here to decipher the channel and inlet. As you try to enter, you have to constantly look out for the rock jetty, shallows, and these monstrous commercial fishing boats with extensive outriggers sprouting from their sides like enormous bat wings. There is no room for anyone to pass these winged machines and heaven forbid if you are in their way! Because of the number of times they have done it, I think these captains could power through the inlet wearing blindfolds. Come to think of it, the way they disregard other boats, that maybe what they are doing. Basically, I don't think they like us freshwater foreigners clogging up their waters.

Here we dropped the hook which meant no real sleep for Jeff or the GPS who kept constant vigil to determine if we were dragging anchor. The lighthouse was a pretty site to wake up to, but the fact that we were aground was not. There was plenty of water when we went to sleep? The wind had picked up during the night and we had swing, swang, swung. It took a little shuckin' and jivin', but we finally got off just in time for me to dodge a fishing boat (phew!) and watch one of the lovely fishing captain gentlemen barrel out the inlet to run Presto down. Maybe it was just the Jersey accent that was so obnoxious and condescending when he shouted at Presto over the radio to get the heck out of the way and question if he had his radio on that really got me hot and bothered. Welcome, to Jooy-zee.

We actually got to sail with sails out and everything for a short time on the way to Atlantic City. Bac and I have gone to Atlantic City many times by land, but this was a first for me to see it from the ocean. The Taj Mahal is quite spectacular when the sunshine bounces off its gold domes...like gleaming onions. Bac told me that when the casinos were first built that some of the windows reflected the sunlight so intensely that the boardwalk was literally catching fire! The Showboat's architecture does resemble a showboat...can't get that perspective from land. A couple new hotel/casinos have cropped up since our last visit, but all-in-all, Atlantic City is still Atlantic City, a little seedy, I mean city by the sea.

Hatch went bonkers on our way through the inlet. Off our starboard side was a beach full of cars that had driven right onto the beach, and .........tens of dogs!! Swimming, barking, running and making Hatch nuts! He was pacing up and down the deck. I had to finally sit and hold him as he quivered to keep him from jumping off and joining in the fun. It was a beautiful day and smelled like I was finally home at the Shore. We anchored around the backside of the beach and dunes. It was a breeze and fun to dinghy in. Hatch was in smell heaven! He had a ball splashing in the water and rolling in the sand...and the dead fish...and the dead crabs...and someone's shoes? hmmmmmm.........

The nighttime dinghy trip was a different story. It was dark as pitch outside except for thebeautiful light graphics on the side of the Harrah's. The tide was so low, we were running aground in the dink in some spots. Even with the search light, you could hardly see squat. Stepping onto the wet sandy bottom was a little intimidating for me. I wasn't quite sure what was under the water. My overactive imagination was wondering where the person was that belonged to the shoes that Mr. McGruff the Crime Dog found earlier that day. McGruff, of course, loved exploring in the dark and welcomed the invitation of new low tide smells and another romp in playland. He's obviously never heard of the doggy mafia.

Up and out the next morning bright and early for the W O R S T day of the trip and one of my worst days period. One word, greenheads. OMG. If you have never been bitten by a greenhead fly, thank your lucky stars! Hate is not a word that I use too often, but I can honestly say I hate those suckers. This was also a day that the winds picked up only to be on our nose...again. How can one travel from Lake Erie, east, then down the Hudson, then head south down the eastern shore and the wind be on your bow 98% of the time???? It was hot and muggy as all get out. The ocean was rolling swell after swell. I was miserable.

We did sail past the red buoy, a landmark off the shore of Avalon for both boaters and Jeff and his siblings. I've heard many childhood tales of events that occurred past the" Red Boo." My first memory of the red buoy was a summer college visit to Avalon and Bac took me out for an afternoon cruise in his dad's boat. Let's just say the red buoy doesn't only serve as a reminder for boaters at which mile marker they are, but a mile marker of a different meaning for some of us. ;-) As we passed, we made a nostalgic call to Bac's parents to let them know where we were. Jeff's mom called old friends who still live in Avalon. They in turn called us and were going to attempt to see us from the beach. We would be that white speck with a tall stick bobbing in the swells!

The day's sail continued down to the tip of Cape May and a right turn into the middle of the Delaware Bay. As if the ride so far had not be swelly enough already, if there is such a word, I look up from my seat in the cockpit at Bac standing at the helm. The waves behind him were cresting above his head! He actually told me he hesitated to turn around to see what I was looking at judging the gigantic size of my eyeballs. I think he thought it might be a great white! These continued all the way across the bay to the Cohancey River which we wound our way down to end our thirteen hour day. Oh, but the fun doesn't stop here.

At this point, poor Hatch is sailing with his legs crossed. We're all hotter and sweatier than before. I've finally gotten my appetite back and find that I am also starving. You don't want me hot, sweaty, tired and starving. Not a good combination. We still have to set the hook next to the mosquito marsh (mosquitoes are right up there on my popularity chart with the greenheads). Finally after two tries all is well and we get into the dinghy, in the dark, and make our way over to a fishing dock we see over yonder under the faint glow of a dim street lamp. Did I mention I'm a tad cranky?

As we are tying up, I notice something move on the dock and on the pilings in front of me. It's so dark outside I can't tell what it is and it's gone, so I shrug it off. Too tired to care really, so I hop onto the dock. We walk the dog in silence and realize that this is not just a fishing dock, but a crab dock lined with crab boats and stacked with bushel baskets and traps as high as you can reach. Mounds of baskets and traps! Looking for the silver lining of the day "Wow," I'm thinking to myself, "my first crab dock. Ymmm!" It doesn't outweigh the porpoises that followed us for a few minutes in the ocean, but, this is still cool. Then I notice something moving again, skittering around and o v e r the baskets. I feel something on my foot. The docks are crawling with big !@#$$%! cockroaches! Ga-Ross! I swear they were as big as the ones you see on Fear Factor! Now, Hatch sees them and is mesmerized by the darting black shapes on the dock! I stomped my feet as hard as I could hoping that the creepy disgusting buggers wouldn't jump into the dinghy, or onto the dog! I would have puked right on the spot had I been able to eat anything all day during the swells, but instead, I just shot Bac a look that spoke paragraphs...get me back on Manatee now!

Onboard, I am freakishly slapping, smacking and swatting nasty mosquitos everywhere I look. What is this, a mosquito convention? Did we eat? These mosquitos are feasting on me, that's for sure. I can't even remember...a can of something. Thankfully, Presto is some distance from us so they can't hear my cursing. Poor Bac. Not only does he have to put up with a maniac wife and dog, but again he sleeps with one eye open keeping watch over the anchor. I finally get to bed and lay squirming and squeaking as I dream of being covered in cockroaches. Hatch is zonked and snoring across our legs dreaming of new and wonderful smells...tomorrow is a new day.

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