NEW JERSEY

As a lawyer, I understand the power of words, especially the written word.  As such, I truly am having difficulty finding the right words to describe our experience transiting the coast of New Jersey.  To say it has been an “interesting” experience would be accurate, but “interesting” is a meaningless word because it fails considerably in being descriptive.  I could also say that, you just had to be there, to fully understand what we experienced, but that would do me no good for purposes of these memoires.  I guess the best way to do this, then, is to simply describe the day to day experiences, and see where the chips fall when it is all said and done.

We had a nice stop over in Delaware City before heading down and across Delaware Bay to our first landfall in New Jersey.  We could not have asked for better weather.  Delaware Bay, which can get quite sporty at times, was glassy the entire way.  So, arriving at the Cape May Canal was easy.  We passed many sport boats out fishing on this date.  Either it was opening day for some species, or there was a huge sport fishing tournament going on, as there were literally hundreds of boats on the water, all of which seemed to be concentrated in a single general area over some mud flats.  On the west coast, this is the time of year when a certain species of sand bass spawns in the shallow mud flats off the Ventura coast.  Perhaps its east coast cousin was doing the same thing bringing hundreds of small sport boats to the forefront.  We dodged and weaved through them while trying not to disturb their fishing, and all the while trying to stay in the deeper water.  In that regard, Delaware Bay was mostly deep until you start getting close to Cape May at which point the water gets increasingly more shallow.

The mouth of the Cape May Canal was easy to find as it lies between two rather large rock jetties.  There were ferry boats coming and going so it was easy to see from quite a distance.  This canal cuts through the lower peninsula of the State of New Jersey.  There was quite a current running through there when we arrived.  We were slowed to barely 5 knots.  The current did nothing, however, to slow all the smaller boats flying through there at high speed seeming completely oblivious to the presence of a larger slower boat attempting to navigate in a narrow, shallow passage.  I was getting increasingly frustrated having to hold on time and time again as high speed idiots raced passed us, waking us, and causing things to fly in the wheel house and down below.  Up until then, I thought all the rudest boaters in the world were in Florida.  However, my friend Barry reminded me that, they actually come from New Jersey and winter in Florida.  Ok, Barry, you got me there.  Barry is from Tampa and is understandably logical and protective about Florida boating.  And he is right.  Many of the idiots we encountered on the waters in and around Florida were from somewhere else.  Back to Cape May.

It became quickly obvious that we were no longer in the waters of the Chesapeake Bay or the Delaware River.  The water in and through Cape May was lined with businesses and homes.  Cape May Harbor is a large area completely surrounded by concrete and civilization.  There was marina after marina, all of which were seemingly full.  The channels were relatively well marked in this area and, with the exception of the irritating little boats, navigating through here was relatively easy.  In spite of all the rumors we had heard about the very shallow waters of the New Jersey ICW, we were not seeing anything less than 15-20 feet.  We were pleasantly surprised.

Our anchoring plans did not include a stay in Cape May Harbor, but rather took us a few miles further down the line to a place called “Ephrain Island” which is out in front of the town of Wildwood Crest.  We negotiated the marks into the basin and managed to drop the hook unscathed.  We were travelling with Love Shack and they dropped their anchor behind us shortly thereafter.  It had been a very long day.  We left Delaware City at 0600 to get the tide down the Delaware Bay and it was nearly 1400 when we dropped anchor.  So, we went for a quick swim and then headed to town to see what the place was all about.

We found a public dinghy dock and tied up the dinghies there and walked across the barrier island to the beach.  This place, Wildwood Crest, or “the Crest” as it is referred to by locals, is simply an ocean front resort town with hotel after hotel lining the several streets and boulevards.  There were amusement parks and some restaurants, but that was about it. 

We did not find much in the way of shopping, but I think we turned left when we should have turned right.  I guess we’ll never really know now.  We did walk all the way out to the beach on the Atlantic side, however, and the beach was beautiful.  The beaches are so wide that the powers that be deemed it fit to run a boardwalk almost all the way out to the high tide line.  This was almost a quarter mile from the road.  The sand was white and like fine sugar.  I remembered the north east coast beaches from when I was a kid and recalled that they were very broad and covered with fine white sand.  So, we walked on the beach for a while, before we decided we were all hungry and thirsty and went in search of something.

We pulled out the pocket computers and used their search functions to locate the nearest watering hole, which turned out to be a Mexican restaurant a short distance away.  So off we went.  We were glad to find it as at that point, we were all quite hot and thirsty.  I was truly ready for a beer and was almost ecstatic to find this place until I noticed something on the window I had never seen before.  Printed on the glass were the letters “BYOB”.  Ok.  So, I went in first and spoke to a young lady behind the counter.  The conversation went something like this:

“Excuse me.  I have a question.  On the window it says, ‘BYOB’.  Does this mean we are not going to be having any margaritas here or does that mean ‘build your own burrito?’

She proceeded to tell me we could bring our own beer if we wanted to and that “the crest” is a dry town.  I was not too pleased at this point, but it was hot out and we figured we could at least get something cold to drink and maybe a little something to eat.  So, we decided to go in.  It was fine.

The next morning, we pulled the anchors and decided we were going to head north to a place called Ocean Beach.  It was 30 miles north on the New Jersey ICW.  We figured it would not take that long to get there, and a review of the nautical charts showed there to be absolutely plenty of water even if we decided to leave at low tide.

So, while it was not quite low tide, we pulled the hook and left.  No sooner were we around the corner from where we started were we stuck in the mud.  No big deal.  The chart said there was 14 feet of water EXACTLY where we were.  Well, the depth sounder said otherwise, and we were not going anywhere.

We saw a lot of this.  This shows 2/10 of a foot under the keel.  I think it was very light and soft mud because we even saw less than 4' and were still moving al beit slowly.

 
So, we called Love Shack which was not far behind us and told them to stop where they were and hold.  They did.  We waited a little while and then managed to wiggle out of the mud.  We then took off on a path that went slightly wider around the marks and found deep enough water to get through this area.  Things were looking up.

Well, this day was to be a very long, long day.  The charts were wrong many times in terms of the depth of the water.  Well, let me say it this way.  Whatever the charts said might have been what the water depth either once was or what it was supposed to have been.  However, NOAA might have been writing the big Jersey fairy tale at this point.  We plowed more in one day than we have in the last year.  It seemed like time and time again, we were pushing through the mud.  It was getting very frustrating.  Every time we went around another turn, we dug in again.  Fortunately, we were not stuck anyplace, but rather skipping and pushing.  It took all day to go the short 30 miles to Ocean Beach.  Once we got there, however, well, we got there.

Our arrival in Ocean Beach was not one of elation.  We were not happy to be there.  We were just glad to be able to stop.  It was a terribly long day, one I do not wish to ever do again.  Not only did we bottom out over and over and over again, but the horseflies we thought were a thing of the South Carolina past came back with a vengeance.  You see, I did not know that the coast of south New Jersey is all basically marsh land with scattered homes and hotels, and beach communities.  It is all quite pretty. Don’t get me wrong.  It is a beautiful coastal area. 

The grasses are very green and the water was cleaner than anticipated.  We have travelled through hundreds and hundreds of miles of marshy ICW, and this, with the exception of the shallow water, was probably some of the prettiest territory we have encountered.  However, the flies were raging.  We put the screens on the windows to keep them out.  This doesn’t always help when it’s 1000 degrees out and we have now doused the breeze keeping it relatively comfortable in the wheelhouse.  So, when we finally arrived in Ocean Beach, we were simply exhausted.  That, and the anchorage was nearly a mile from shore and the wind was blowing hard enough to make white caps.  Sorry, while I had every intention of going ashore, it was simply not in the cards.  We had to figure out something for the following day as this was getting completely ridiculous.  A quick look at the charts and a cruising guide or two allowed us to determine that Atlantic City was only 10 miles away.  Only 10 miles.  Riiiiiiiiiiight.

 So, in the morning, we pulled the hook and boogied with the tide.  Hell, it was only 10 miles to Atlantic City, right?  And given that we would be paying a premium price for the dock space (there is really no place to anchor in Atlantic City aka Trump Town) we wanted to get there as early as possible so we could explore and enjoy a little.  Well, once again, we found ourselves pushing through and over the mud where the charts otherwise said there was plenty of water.  Even in the main inlet at Atlantic City which you have to run through to get to the marina, the charts said there was supposedly 30+ feet of water.  Well, then, why was I only seeing 5’s and 6’s?  This is crazy!  The last place I wanted to get stuck was in the inlet with a strong current pushing against me and wind in the forecast.  We skipped along until we finally made it to the marina and found our slip.  Then as I was backing into the slip, I was seeing even shallower depths and kicking up all kinds of mud.  So, I turned around and put the nose in first.  Fine.  I can do that.  However, the marina advertises 8-9 feet at the docks.  Someone needs to tell them that there is less than 5.

We did have a mighty good time in Atlantic City, however.  After getting cleaned up, we took the 15 minute walk across the town to the famous Atlantic City Boardwalk.  We walked and walked and enjoyed checking out all the folks.  We had a nice lunch and continued walking and watching.  It was very fun.  By 4:00 in the afternoon, we were walked out, shopped out, and plain old tired from the heat, so we hopped in a cab and headed back to the marina and air conditioning.  We had dinner with Barry and Jodie and discussed our cruising future.

Clearly Abreojos and Love Shack had seen enough of the shallow mud called the New Jersey ICW with the nasty horseflies, so we resolved to take the cruise to the outside.  The weather looked good, so we planned to run on the Atlantic Ocean from Atlantic City to another safe inlet, Manasquan, about 55 miles up the line towards Sandy Hook.  The plan was to get fuel and then leave bright and early.

We were at the fuel dock at 0645 and out of there before 0700.  The inlet was deeper than necessary, and in spite of what the charts showed me I could do in terms of short cuts and cutting corners, I decided I did not need to be a hero.  All I needed to do was make it to Manasquan.  So, I plotted the course and stayed on the plot. 

Jodie contacted several marinas in the Manasquan area as there is no place to anchor there without back tracking several miles in the NJ ICW, a fate neither boat was interested in tempting ever again.  So, space was found at this place called Carters.  Now, first of all, it pisses me off when marina operators charge more than they are worth simply because they know they are the only game in town and there is no place to anchor in the area.  Many boaters are left with the choice of pay or continue another 30 miles to some place else.  There are a couple more inlets along the way, but they are rated terrible and for locals only, meaning that, if you do not know what you are doing, you WILL get yourself into a serious jam.  Moreover, this marina operator only had 50 amp power and we need 30 amp.  I do not have a “splitter” (although I should probably pop for the $250 or so to get one) and the marina was not going to allow me to use one.  So, although we had reservations, I took a look at the weather forecast and decided Abreojos would continue on past Manasquan and run all the way to Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey, which is well inside Sandy Hook, and actually within sight of New York City and the Veranzano Bridge.  There was weather on the horizon and it seemed to be a better plan to be securely anchored behind the break wall at Atlantic Highlands for two days, than to be stuck in some shithole marina in Manasquan without power for the same two days and then run to Sandy Hook.  This way, we saved a day and saved a lot of dough.  Plus, we are less than 20 miles from Liberty State Park where we want to stop at least long enough to get a picture of our boat in front of the Statue of Liberty.  Alternatively, we are also within close striking distance of the Battery where we want to arrive a couple hours before low water for our run up the East River through Hells Gate and into Long Island Sound.

So, it was a long day on the water, but it was a fun day.  The old girl got to really stretch her legs.  We ran at a higher RPM than we normally do and made good time and speed from Atlantic City all the way to Atlantic Highlands, where we are presently anchored and secure.  We are going to wait out the passing front and then continue on into New York Harbor on our way to visit family in Rhode Island. 

I’m grateful for my experience running the New Jersey ICW, but I won’t miss it, and I won’t do it again.  In fact, If there were a way to skip the entire state entirely, I would advise it.  At least until you get to Atlantic Highlands.  Here the folks have been friendly and welcoming.  Nobody is trying to rip you off, and the water is plenty deep. 

Atlantic Highlands is like another one of those really cool small towns you find on the water.  Everything is there from hardware stores to nicer restaurants and even a cool old movie theatre.

A view of the Big Apple from the safety of our anchorage behind the Atlantic Highlands Breakwater.

On our first and only full day there, we, that is Brenda, Hannah, and I, joined Barry and Jodie and went on a walk about and explored the main part of town. 

Later that evening, I had the pleasure of dining with a colleague of mine.  "Chip" and I have been working on cases together for several years at least and we had never actually met.  All of our business was done on the phone.  So, I discovered he lives not far from Atlantic Highlands and he came out, picked me up, and took me to dinner at a place on the other side of the Atlantic Highlands area on the Atlantic side of Sandy Hook. 

I cannot recall the name of the restaurant, but the stuffed flounder was memorable.  More memorable, however, than any piece of fish, is the fact that I enjoyed Chip's company and made a new friend.  That night, at 1201, that's 0001 for you maritime folks, Brenda, Hannah, and I went to see the world premier of the new and final Harry Potter film.  It sure was great seeing all the kids come out to the movies.  We saw the 3D version.  We got back to the boat a little after 0200 and went to bed.  The next day, we would be leaving Atlantic Highlands and heading for our next rendezvous with family in Rhode Island. 

We are going to essentially run through New York Harbor, New York and Connecticut so we can get to Rhode Island in time for two things:  Brenda's plane ride to California, and Hannah's plane ride to California.  So, we'll stop and smell the flowers on the way back to the Hudson River.   In the meantime, we'll just sit back and enjoy the scenery.