The Beach


What are you memories of the beach?   Where did you go?  Where do you go now?  We are drawn to water; we are drawn to beaches.  The intersection of land and water.


Growing up outside of Philadelphia (as I did), “going to the beach”  meant the Jersey shore, the Atlantic Ocean and bay.   For Philadelphians that may have been Atlantic City or Wildwood.  Bristol people went to Long Beach Island, for my family, specifically Beach Haven.  There are many other towns on LBI, and many more along the Jersey shore from  New York, south to Cape May.  Communities, neighborhoods, families, we find our favorite. Jersey beaches can have slight differences; and Jersey beaches can be quite different from beaches north in New England or in the South.

Beaches on oceans, bays, rivers, ponds, marshes.  Some beaches are smooth, flat, light sand; some are steep sloped, with high dunes; some are muddy; some rocky.  Some beaches have surfer waves; some have none.  Seaweed?  Beach grass?  Shore birds? Seals? Are there boats off shore?  In common is that connection of land and sea.  Like the moon and tides; we are drawn to the beach, the waters edge.


How many people are on the beach?  What are they doing?  Along the ocean and bays, many sit under colorful umbrellas blocking the sun.  Beach chairs or beach blanket. For the past few years I’ve been useing a higher director’s chair.  Suntan lotion.  Sometimes bug spray.  Ocean beaches have an anatomy, dunes, wrack, berm, breakers, trough.  Many hours can be spent, sitting, looking into the horizon, reflecting, dreaming.

For young kids, the beach is usually buckets, shovels, and other toys.  Sand, more sand, dredging rivers, building castles.  As I kid I remember enjoying burying each other in sand.  Have a catch; pass a football.   My grandson has spike ball — a net and ball game for several to compete.  Maybe volleyball. There are boogie boards and blow up floats.  In the 1950s, we had flat rafts.  Today there is a wider range, my grand daughter got a huge pink floating flamingo this year.  If the ocean waves are big enough there may be surfers.


Which do you like better ocean or bay?  Ocean beaches usually have bigger waves.  Sometimes a swift under tow.  “Beware of rip tides”  Maybe sharks.  Bays are usually shallow, gentler. Rivers and marshes offer totally different environments.  On Cape Cod there are many kettle ponds. Great for swimming, boating, some with docks.

There are beaches known as being good for birding.  On Nantucket we had several we visited with binoculars and scope.  Many shore birds are big, easily identified, fun to watch.  Some fish, ocean casting, bay, pond, river fishing.  Grandson Eli has caught Bass on Pilgrim Lake where we’ve stayed on the Cape  (they were delicious) and has done some morning ocean casting.  I have been considering buying a bay or ocean pole but haven’t acted yet.


For some, like my Washington state sister, Marylee, a beach is a place to launch a kayak.  Not many days pass between her bay or ocean kayak trips.  She has two beautiful, hand made wooden kayaks.  The first year of retirement I bought a small L.L. Bean kayak, to replace or add to a very tiny green one we always took to Nantucket.  We bring it to the Cape and use on the Lake or Pond.  Since my surgery it’s not been easy getting in and out but there is still the draw to be on the water.  This year everyone except me took a guided kayak trip in Nauset Marsh.  Today we’ll take an eco-tour boat to a sand bar, the kids will scavenge sea life, small fish, crabs, shellfish.  Always fun to watch them and see what the sea has to offer.

When we go to the beach we can cross into the water wading or swimming.  We can enjoy the rush of ocean waves; or the calm of a bay.  The grandkids always enjoy swimming on one of the Capes kettle ponds.  Growing up in Bristol, PA, the 1950s-60s, I swam in the Delaware river, Maple Beach was one destination.  Recently a friend posted a picture on Facebook of kids jumping off a river piling near the Bristol Wharf.  Some swam across the river to beaches on Burlington Island.


Some love the beach during the day with the full sun.  That can be too hot for me.  I’d prefer a shady porch with a water view.  Some of my most memorable beach experiences have been early morning or evening walks? Walking and photographing in the sunrise and sunset.  It might be Long Beach Island, the Chesapeake, Nantucket or Cape Cod.  A favorite is the rocky coast of Maine, or the drift wood beaches in Oregon and Washington,  again walking, with a camera, tidal pools filled with sea life.

Although there are many beach experiences etched in my memory, one of the best was a trip with my brother-in-law Norval to Neah Bay, in the northern tip of Washington state.  We left in the dark and arrived on the shore of the bay before sunrise.  As the sun came up we walked on the beach, the fog was thick and for a time we couldn’t see anything.  Then slowly like a curtain the fog began to lift, as we looked out onto the ocean, immense sea stacks began to emerge.  Crazy towers of land left from erosion.  Where the sea and land meet.  In full sun we continued down the beach, an eagle flew directly overhead.  Seemed we could reach out and touch it. The tidal pools were alive with seaweed, small fish, crabs, urchins and starfish.  An amazing beautiful morning.

When I wake early many mornings but don’t want to get up, I day dream about sitting or walking on a beach.  My beach memories wash over me like waves.  And I give thanks for the edge.


Some photographs from the Internet; others mine from Cape Cod, 2018.










I’ve always been a beachcomber, followed in my mother’s footsteps.  Shells, drift wood, beach glass.  I once found a note in a bottle, return to a Cuban address.  I did, with a touch of Cold War anxiety. Somewhere I have several decorative pieces of iron but the completely intact sea gull skelton was consumed by our dog, Luz.

Last week I couldn’t pass up buying several books in the NJ Maritine Museum at Beach Haven.  “Fortuna” by Carole Bradshaw caught my eye.  The cover was a photograph of a red tile washing in the waves.  The back cover read, “A shipwreck, an anchor, and a baby.  What do they all have in common?  When Carole Bradshaw found a small piece of red tile tossing around in the surf on Long Beach Island, New Jersey, she was about to find out.”  This sounded like a history adventure I would enjoy.


I immediately thought of Colin Fletcher’s “The Man from the Cave”  (1981).  Fletcher, a backpacking guru, stumbled on an abandoned camp in a remote section of Nevada.    An old wooden trunk, personal belongings in a cave, fragments of a 1916 newspaper.   Fletcher uses these historic traces to identify the camper — “Chuckawalla” Bill Simmons from Braddock, PA.  On his search he met family members and others who filled in Bill’s story including the Nevada camp.


Then there was the discovery of the identity of a 1910 North Pownal, Vermont child mill worker photographed by Lewis Hine.  Two amateur historians identified her as Addie Card.  An article in the September, 2006 Smithsonian tells their story.  After following leads in all types of records, they learned Addie’s history and even found and met with two of her adoptive descendants.

Naturally I purchased “Fortuna.”  Carole was your average beachcomber.  She and her daughter were walking the beach at Ship Bottom on Long Beach Island (LBI) in 1970.  She found several red tiles.  Years later she showed the tiles to a Manahawkin friend.  On some she could read, ARNAUD ETIENNE & Cie ST HENRY MARSEILLE.  Her friend, Lydie identified the tiles as debris from the ship Fortuna.  As a child, Lydie had seen the grounded ship.

The shoals off LBI were known as the graveyard of the Atlantic.  It was not uncommon for ships to run aground.  The Fortuna floundered in 1909.  An Italian ship out of the port of Trapani in Sicily.  The ship’s captain and owner was Giovan Adragna.  Aboard was his wife, two young daughters, and a baby born in Barbados weeks before.  His wife, Maria didn’t want to be left at home during the two year voyage.

“LBI’s first lifesaving station was built in Harviey Cedars in 1848.  All U.S. Life savings Stations were built. Exactly the same.  The shape and size of the building, both inside and out, were all alike.  There was a large boat room,  a kitchen, two sleeping compartments and a storage room.”   By the 1900s, the stations were staffed  by trained, paid  professionals.

Lifesaver Horace Cranmers discovered the stranded Fortuna  on January 18, 1910 while on patrol.   The Ship Bottom crew were first on the scene followed by other stations.  Lines were unsucessfully shot from a Lyle gun.  If established the line would be used to rescue individuals in a breeches buoy.  We have a personal interest in Lyle guns since Diane’s grandfather made them during World War II.

Life savings boats were launched.  But Captain Adragna was initially reluctant to abandon the Fortuna.  The lifesavers insisted and eventually all 17 on board were rescued, including the recently born Adragna baby.  They would be brought to the Ship Bottom station where they lived until transit back to Italy was arranged.

In April 1983, Carole and her husband, Greg, discovered more tiles but also the skeleton iron frame of the Fortuna.  Then there was a cannon like ball — could it be the anchor?  Carole became convinced that it was the ship’s anchor.

She mobilized local political and historical forces. The anchor was removed from the sand; fundraising financed a memorial in front of Ship  Bottom’s borough hall.  But for Carole, something was missing.  What happened to the baby?

Letters to Sicily lead to the discovery of two of Captain Adragna’s children, Giuseppe and  Severia (the baby born on the Fortuna in 1909).  Carole travel to Sicily and then brings Guiseppe and Severia to Ship Bottom for the dediation of the anchor in honor of their father.

Fortuna was a great story.  I need to go see the anchor in Ship Bottom and a mast that is used as a flagpole at the Beach Haven Little Egg Harbor Marina.  And I’ll continue to walk the beaches looking for traces of history.


LBI in mid-June


Sitting on the front porch of the Victoria Guest House.

Teens (actually actors) on the square, the swat of a softball, screaming, laughing, and clapping.

Laughing gulls cavorting and squalking on the beach.

Young boy and girl runs toward the waves; quick retreat.

Families quietly cycle by on deserted streets.

A gentle southeast breeze cools the hot afternoon sun on the beach.

An early evening storm blows through with lashing winds and rain.

Chicken and turkey sandwiches at Barry’s Do Me a Flavor

Salty, seaweed soaked, humid air on the bay.

Sitting on bench watching the ocassional passing boat in Sunset Park, Ship Bottom.

Victorian homes, basic gingerbread, cedar shakes, whites and gray; ocassionally Cape May colors.

White wicker, chairs, rockers and couches.

Petunias, day lilies, blue and white hydrangea,

Breakfast bowls of fresh fruit and homemade French toast, orange juice, coffee.

Barneget Lighthouse standing tall.

A still, quiet, broken by a distant chirping sparrow.

Horseshoe crabs seemingly mating in the surf.

Thousands in ocean beach chairs;  two young surfers; one daring jet skier.

Sun and heat waves glisten in a small backyard pool.

Church bells at noon in the distance. Again at six.

Footloose in the  reopened Surflight Theatre.

An elegant dinner at Stefano’s — local  Barneget scallops, BYOB.

A bucket of steamed clams at Polly’s Dock Clam House on the bay.

Reading the Beachcomber and Sand Paper.

An afternoon swim in Victoria’s pool.

Reading John Baily Lloyd’s History of LBI — Six Miles at Sea or Eighteen Miles of History.

Wandering through the many exhibits in the NJ Maritine Museum.

Photographs of Ship wrecks.

Bench sitting on the ocean at dusk.

Hearing stories of hurricane Sandy.

Chatting with some fisherman on the bay.

Memories of Mignoni-Profy Beach Haven vacations, flounder fishing with cousin Bill.

Ordering new shorts from L.L. Bean.

Chilly wind when the sun slides behind clouds.

Soft Shell Crabs at the Black Whale and Mud City crab cakes at Parker’s Garage.

Pistacchio ice cream one afternoon.

Elegant dining at Stefano’s — local Barneget scallops.

Clams Casino in honor of uncle.

Lunch at Ship Bottom Shellfish and Pearl Street Market.

LBI telephone memory chat with cousin Ellen.

Flashes of Uncle Frank and Aunt Ellen’s Harvey Cedars house.

Mignoni-Profy reunions.

Older women slowly walk the beach collecting shells.

Beach House, awful dinner. Sent rubbery tuna back.

Engleside hotel; photographs of original Engleside.

Flea Market on the square.

Take home clams and scallops from Surf City Fish Market.

LBI memories.

Sitting on the front porch of the Victoria.