Celebrating My Dad's 100th Birthday in Authentic Cape May

Opposing traffic in the Delaware Bay on a hazy July day

It's hard not to think about him in this house that he modified and added to, and furnished with woodworked objects he made while at sea. The fig tree (it had a rough time this winter) and the magnolia he planted are still thriving outside in the yard, but his vegetable garden is gone. Today would have been my Dad's hundredth birthday, and as he wasn't around to celebrate, I tried to imagine what he might like to do.

Albert Montet, ca. 1966

He liked ships and boats having been a career US Coast Guard guy, so I figured I should spend time on some kind of vessel. I selected the Cape May-Lewes Ferry because he liked that particular fleet of ships. He lived in Cape May before the ferry came in 1964, and enjoyed cruising on it once it started running. It was more like a bus on water then, and I think he'd be amused by the newer, more comfortable ferries that run now.

The ferry waits for me to board. (From the Skywalk)

I brought my camera because Dad liked to shoot photos (SLR) and so do I (DSLR). He'd have liked these Osprey chicks I caught at the Lewes (Delaware) Terminal--he was a nature guy, too.

4 chicks

The dolphins were out today, but not exactly posing for photographs.

Dolphins frolicking near the ferry.

One thing I wasn't able to do is swim in the Cape May Canal. Dad used to love to do this, and I remember going with him and the rest of the family. It used to be a big-deal, right-of-passage to swim across and back, but I never did that. At some point in the 1970s they widened and deepened the canal (built during World War II) and there was no more beach and no more swimming. There's way too much boat traffic anyway.

Canal traffic

It just so happened that Dad's 100th birthday fell on a full moon, and even better, a SUPER moon! The Friends of the Cape May Lighthouse (and I am one) open the lighthouse on summer evening with a full moon so that visitors can climb to the top to take in the moonlit view. I think Dad would have liked this because it's an authentic nautical Cape May thing combined with a natural phenomenon. He would not have liked the crowd, and neither did I except that two-way traffic on those narrow spiral wrought-iron stairs slows traffic down a bit, and it would have been impossible to "run" up and down as I posted (tongue-in-cheek) on Facebook. Anyhoo, without a tripod and with all of the other folks, it was difficult to shoot clever photos. I resorted to some quick iPhone snaps.

7-12-14 Super Moon over the Atlantic Ocean with the CM Lighthouse beam

Cape May Lighthouse

I think Dad would approve of his birthday festivities. In just under eight years, it will be Mom's turn: shopping and ice cream, I think (also in Cape May).

Fourth of July, North Cape May

I didn't have anyone to bring to my town's Fourth of July festivities, so I brought my camera (and lenses) instead. This was especially fun because this town doesn't just shoot off fireworks, they host a carnival down by the bay. People come from miles around and end up parking in front of my house blocks away for the rides, food trucks, entertainment, and ultimately a half hour of non-stop fireworks. I didn't stay for the pyrotechnics because Gladys the Sheltie is terrified of them: they are loud and close.

After our beachwalk earlier in the day, I spotted this ride and thought it would be fun to shoot it in action:

 

There were other rides, mostly for the kiddies...

Get your tickets here:

And then see if you can ring this bell by hitting the thing with the giant hammer (I didn't see anyone try last night):

There were a couple of bands playing while we cruised through the food trucks...

 

 

As you can see, the late-day light was tricky, so I made up my mind that this batch of photos would be experimental...

Here's that gorgeous Mimosa tree about a block from the bay through my fish-eye lens

And a view of the bay with a black & white filter

And finally, while all this was going on down by the water, and before the fireworks were set off from a barge in the water, neighborhood houses were being judged for a good ol' Fourth of July house decorating contest!

And now this morning, all of the excitement is over, house parties more-or-less cleaned up, the rides packed-up and off to their next gig, and the neighborhood seems to be back to normal. Every house is quiet, and besides the lady hanging beach towels on her clothesline and the man walking his Border Collie, there aren't any people out there. It was a late night!

Autumn Baywalk

Gladys the Sheltie wanted me to show you what we saw on our walk this afternoon at the Delaware Bay. It was low tide, so the beach looked like this:

and we saw lots  of things washed-up on the sand.

Coral

A claw

And, of course, shells

There was a recently-deceased or napping horseshoe (I'm told not to call them crabs because they are more like spiders, actually),

and a gull looking for lunch hiding just under the sand.

Since it was super-low tide, I got some close-up shots of this jetty which is usually under the water. Who knew so many critters lived under there?!

The Cape May-Lewes Ferry made an appearance after the HOOOOOONNNNNK HONK HONK HONK warning signal.

The ferry is leaving the canal.

 Gladys had had enough by now,

...so we headed home to rest while our crepe myrtle tree is doing this because it is autumn!

Fort Miles at Cape Henlopen, Delaware

Delaware's restored Fort Miles as seen from the Observation Tower with the Atlantic Ocean beyond

During World War II, it became apparent that we Americans should protect our factories and other industries from enemy attack. The Delaware Valley was home to many of these, including some vitally important to the war effort. Fort Miles was built on either side of the mouth of the bay in order to guard the Delaware River and Bay from enemy vessels that could blockade or sink our own. Cape Henlopen on the Delaware side had the bulk of the fort, but Cape May on the New Jersey side had some observation towers, a bunker, and personnel of its own.

Barracks Building A

The area became Cape Henlopen State Park after the war, and more recently the Delaware Division of Parks and Recreation has endeavored to preserve the surviving buildings of Fort Miles.The fort was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in April 2005.

The entrance to Fort Miles on Sandy Lane with the Observation Tower in the background

Fort Miles also has a large collection of "big guns" perched as they were in the 1940s ready to eliminate threats from enemy vessels.

Fred checks out one of the big guns at Fort Miles

Soldiers stationed inside the various

Inside the tower

Observation or Fire Towers kept watch on the Atlantic waters for enemy vessels. It is true that some German U-boats came very close to shore. (U-858 and its very young German crew were captured just off the coast at the end of the war and processed at Fort Miles.) The soldiers in the towers would communicate bearings to gunmen who used triangulation to figure how to aim those guns.

Visitors can climb the tower near the historic Fort Miles section for a stunning view of the park, ocean, beach, a couple of lighthouses, the Cape May-Lewes Ferry Terminal, and many ocean-going vessels.

One of the most remarkable things about Fort Miles and today's Cape Henlopen State Park is that it sits on top of a giant sand dune. It's labeled The Great Dune on my map and takes up 543 acres of the present-day park. The sandy soil and sparse vegetation create a desert ambiance charming for campers and beach-minded visitors, but how must this environment been for the soldiers of World War II?

The dune between Fort Miles and the Atlantic Ocean beach

Drive or bike along Cape Henlopen Drive, past the Cape May-Lewes Ferry Terminal, and bear to the right once inside the park to get to the restored Fort Miles area. Cape Henlopen also features swimming, camping, fishing, birding, and a nature center.

This is what low tide looks like in winter

My favorite beach for walking, as my frequent readers probably know, is the Delaware Bay Beach in North Cape May, NJ. (I've been coming here all of my life and even before, I suspect!) Summer on this beach is great for sunning and relaxing, but fall, winter, and spring are for walking, making Gladys chase her special beach toy, and shooting pictures. A few weeks ago, Fred and Gladys and I managed to fit in a cold and windy beachwalk on the bay. As luck would have it, we wandered down at low tide. This means a wider beach for toy-chasing and more oddities washed up from the depths of the bay.

Fred and Gladys wait for me as I shoot photos from the street.

I mentioned it was a windy day. Gladys was wearing her new snowman kerchief, and experienced many wardrobe malfunctions.

The best birding is in spring and fall, when so many species fly by on their migrations north and south. Some live here with us and even hang out on the beach in winter. (By the way, if you are interested in birding in Cape May County and beyond, check out Don Freiday's blog: http://freidaybird.blogspot.com)

Some gulls stay for the winter.

A plump little sandpiper/plover/sanderling--I'm never quite sure which. They're all in Cape May.

This fall we New Jersey beach lovers (avian and human alike) experienced anxiety during the approach of Hurricane (or Superstorm) Sandy. Some of us received gut-wrenching bad news, but others of us were spared. A few days before it hit, all eyes were on Cape May as the storms were expected to converge there. As we all know now, Sandy brought her devastation ashore a little further north. Cape May was, for the most part, spared, but I suspect most from the Cape May region watched the news with horror as the images from Seaside and Staten Island, Brick and Brooklyn, appeared in the media: "Man, that could have been us."

Fred and Gladys head for the beach.

There were some issues at my favorite beach as a result of the enormous storm. For the first time I can remember, the trail from the street to the beach was purposely moved over a few feet. Bulldozers did this after the storm, and I suspect the move has something to do with the new storm drain visible in the first photo above. There was a dinky drain there before, but this gargantuan seems to mean business. But anyway, I'm still getting used to the new trail, as silly as that may seem.

There was some beach erosion , too. These cliffs have always been here, but used to be much smaller. I remember when I was younger my parents could drive along Beach Drive and see me and my dog Bambi from the car. That's nowhere near possible now as those cliffs are taller than I am.

The dune cliffs, post-Sandy

Nonetheless, the beauty of the beach in winter remains. I think this is a pretty cool close-up of one of the jetties. Low-tide allowed me to get in close to the moss-covered rocks. The green moss and the charcoal-colored rocks were the most exciting color palette of the morning, I think.

At high-tide sometimes, these rocks are completely covered. P.S. The green parts are very slippery.

I mentioned that weird things wash up on the bay. Here's an oyster-encrusted tire:

Those oysters will cling to anything.

It was cold and windy that day, the moist kind of wind that you find at the beach. This is the kind of wind that will cause actual pain to ungloved hands shooting photos or flying kites, for instance. Little Sheltie dogs chasing toys don't seem to be bothered by it.

 

Hurricane Sandy in Cape May

H. Sandy clouds still over the Delaware Bay

Gladys with the Storm at Sea quilt

I started Hurricane Sandy Week just outside Trenton, predicting that if the storm was as bad as the weather forecasters were saying, I wouldn't see work on Monday or Tuesday. The hurricane, they said, would join forces with a Nor'Easter and a cold front, and as the week went on H. Sandy was predicted to make landfall at my original home of Cape May, New Jersey. The hurricane winds were frightening and brought with them strange noises (trees and limbs falling), and finally, darkness. I had candles and flashlights ready and pep-talked myself into making the best of the situation. We ran the generator from time to time creating intermittent power and wifi, but that thing takes a lot of gas and makes a lot of noise. I was able to gather some news from those few hours of television news and 3G social media sources. It turned out that the Central Jersey, Staten Island, and Lower Manhattan coasts took the full force of the storm, while Cape May was largely spared. My work was closed all week because the hurricane traveled inland and wreaked havoc in Bucks County and other southeastern Pennsylvania locations. This was a blessing for those of us sitting on couches without power as the shocking images of the Jersey Shore became public. 

I shared on Facebook whatever news of Cape May I could find since almost everyone who knew I had a connection there was asking how we fared. Exit Zero and Cape May Times turned out to be the most reliable and informative. This was impressive: the staff of Exit Zero offered to email photographs for properties for homeowners who couldn't get away to check on them.They must have understood the anxiety we face owning a beloved, memory-filled home so far from where we live.  Slowly it became apparent that although there was some flooding, some damage, and a whole lot of sand piled up in town, Cape May did pretty well. At the same time, though, we were seeing the pictures of a devastated coast just a little bit to the north. Could it be that Cape May really dodged a bullet? I had to drive down to see for myself and check on our family's house.

There's a path in there somewhere.

It's all good news, really. The house is fine, and I suspect maybe power never went out here at all. The flowerpots I thought may have turned into projectiles in the hurricane winds were just where I left them. There were branches and trees down here and there, but the kids around here were already back in school for a couple days. After checking around the house and finding no damage, I took Gladys for a walk on the bay beach where we walk all the time. There has been some erosion, and our usual path from the street through the dunes now contains a small (two-foot) cliff. Some paths  are unusable with five- or six-foot cliffs, and some were untouched. I had to walk the whole length of our usual baywalk in spite of the wind and cold just to prove to myself it was okay and to reclaim it from H. Sandy. (And it was windy!)

Gladys actually likes the wind.

Some stores were closed.

Next on my agenda was a trip into Cape May City. This favorite place was evacuated before the storm and people were not let back until the flooding went down and all was safe. News must not have gotten out that Cape May was reopened, because I had the shops to myself! I shopped a little, but mainly walked around town reassuring myself that all is okay. People I met were eager to share stories and learn about the Trenton and Bucks County areas, and what I saw on my way down to the shore. (No, I had no trouble and no, I didn't wait in long gas station lines like they saw on TV. All of NJ is not like that. I had luckily filled my tank just before the storm.) They were hungry for a broader perspective. Curiously, some seemed unaware of the magnitude of the damage less than an hour north. I chatted with one woman as she decorated her beautiful, damage-free inn for Christmas, blissfully clueless. On a brighter note, and these are just the things I know about, the Washington Street Mall merchants have committed to donating ten percent of their profits for the next month, and Captain Ginny of the Skimmer Salt Marsh Safari is running three salt marsh cruises tomorrow to benefit the Red Cross. We'll be on the 1:30. It seems the birding is fantastic these days.

That lake behind the Arcade is not supposed to be there.

The Cape May beach showed the most H. Sandy damage. There was water where sand was supposed to be, and sand all over the Promenade and streets. Some of the first amazing photos to come out of Cape May showed six feet of sand being removed from the streets on the east end of town. The sand on the beach moved. The volleyball nets now look like really narrow tennis nets,

Those are supposed to be volleyball nets at Steger's Beach.

and the stand that rents chairs and umbrellas in the summer was almost completely buried. 

Steger's umbrella and chair rental stand is buried in that crusty alien sand.

There's a new berm created by erosion, giving my familiar beach spot a whole new look. 

A new bump in the beach.

The sand is not the fluffy kind we're used to in Cape May, but a flat, hard, crusty, alien variety. I figure the massive rain hardened it and the wind flattened it.

So that's it, my H. Sandy Cape May update. We were darn lucky in Cape May and Trenton. My heart goes out to those neighbors to the north facing unimaginable, sickening loss. New Jersey will rebuild the shore it is so proud of, but for now there's the anxiety and grief through which there is no shortcut.