The last time I visited Cape May, I was a teenager and barely able to tolerate one night in this little town. We used to spend our family vacations in Wildwood, NJ less than a 30 minute drive away. My Mom longed to spend just one summer vacation here, but my sister and I found it to be quite boring and insisted on staying where all of the action was (arcades, amusement piers). Mom always told me that I would learn to appreciate its quaint character when I got older. I swore she was wrong and over 15 years later, I regret protesting her request. Was she right? Yes and no. After 2 days of oohing and aahhing at its beauty and charm, other realities set in: lack of public transportation, limited internet access and countless rules limiting beach access, times for biking, liquor licenses near the beach...basically everything fun.
Maybe there was something to these rules. The beaches were clean and very pretty, unlike the ones I had remembered in Wildwood where the occasional piece of trash or soiled diaper would wash up on shore. There was certainly going to be none of that in this town. You had to buy a permit to spend a day on the beach and there was always a patrol car in sight. The local Kiwanis Club performed a flag ritual every evening at sundown at the end of the pier. A plaque describing this ritual proclaimed its citizens to be "quite patriotic" and their intentions to pass their patriotism and good character on to their children. Stephen and I may have trouble living up to this reputation should we stay here too long. We would stay only long enough to enjoy some relaxation after a long journey here.
We were dying to have a day after boat maintenance and other projects were finished, where we did nothing but lounge on the sand. The unpredictable post labor day beach weather brought brisk breezes that would make more than an hour on the beach unbearable. I drank my morning coffee to stay warm. Stephen considered immersing himself in the ocean, but quickly retreated to the blanket after dipping his feet in. We ate "hot nuts" and candy from another famous fudge shop and walked around the town taking pictures of all the pretty houses.
Boats visiting the Cape must anchor in the harbor on the other side of town, so we accumulated many miles of walking, over 30 between the two of us. As new crusiers, we expected that internet access would be abundant, so the first day ashore we lugged our laptop a couple of miles into town. Lesson learned: do not bring bags, coolers, computers, etc. ashore until you know that there is a library, grocery store, internet cafe and know exactly where it is. Despite this, we loved all of the walking and have decided to continue to walk everywhere now that we are living back on land.
During our trip from Annapolis to Cape May, we sailed all through the night (24 hours) and were guided by the lighthouse on its southern shore. This beacon signaled our entrance into the ocean at about 3:00 am and also gave us an idea of just how close we were to land. It was important that we stay a couple of miles out as the depths can get very shallow rounding the Cape. This jaunt was slightly unnerving as it was our first time into the ocean in the pitch black of night with 30 knot winds and 6 foot waves dousing us in the cockpit. The lighthouse became both our point of reference and stability as we continued to glance at it for reassurance.
It was only fitting that our first destination ashore was the lighthouse. Using our fingers to gauge the distance we had covered on our little map of the town, we figured "It can't be that much farther." Of course, this is how many of our "walks" on vacation turn into epic journeys. We reached the lighthouse shortly after sunset and then began heading back into town for dinner. We had accurately judged the amount of time it would take us to get to our landmark. Surely, the trek back to town would be of equal distance. Only later did we discover the little notation that indicated "map not to scale."
As we walked and walked down long unlit roads in search of the main street back into town, we stumbled upon a somewhat cute, but slightly creepy scene involving a vegetable stand. In the front yard of a beach cottage was a little table with a red checkered cloth and a basket of the smallest home grown tomatoes and peppers you have ever seen. There was a donation jar next to the basket and a beach umbrella stuck in the ground to protect it from the sun. The teddy bear seated in the tree swing (donned in a dress and hair bow) was the element that gave us the hee-bee gee-bees. Stephen thought it had a pedophila kind of essence. It reminded me of Hansel & Gretel or some other childhood fairytale in which the innocent are lured into some kind of sinister trap. Perhaps our imaginations had just gone wild out on the open sea with no television, and it was simply the darkness that made an otherwise friendly gesture seem evil. But I remain convinced that there is a little Stephen King in this town.
Boats visiting the Cape must anchor in the harbor on the other side of town, so we accumulated many miles of walking, over 30 between the two of us. As new crusiers, we expected that internet access would be abundant, so the first day ashore we lugged our laptop a couple of miles into town. Lesson learned: do not bring bags, coolers, computers, etc. ashore until you know that there is a library, grocery store, internet cafe and know exactly where it is. Despite this, we loved all of the walking and have decided to continue to walk everywhere now that we are living back on land.
During our trip from Annapolis to Cape May, we sailed all through the night (24 hours) and were guided by the lighthouse on its southern shore. This beacon signaled our entrance into the ocean at about 3:00 am and also gave us an idea of just how close we were to land. It was important that we stay a couple of miles out as the depths can get very shallow rounding the Cape. This jaunt was slightly unnerving as it was our first time into the ocean in the pitch black of night with 30 knot winds and 6 foot waves dousing us in the cockpit. The lighthouse became both our point of reference and stability as we continued to glance at it for reassurance.
It was only fitting that our first destination ashore was the lighthouse. Using our fingers to gauge the distance we had covered on our little map of the town, we figured "It can't be that much farther." Of course, this is how many of our "walks" on vacation turn into epic journeys. We reached the lighthouse shortly after sunset and then began heading back into town for dinner. We had accurately judged the amount of time it would take us to get to our landmark. Surely, the trek back to town would be of equal distance. Only later did we discover the little notation that indicated "map not to scale."
As we walked and walked down long unlit roads in search of the main street back into town, we stumbled upon a somewhat cute, but slightly creepy scene involving a vegetable stand. In the front yard of a beach cottage was a little table with a red checkered cloth and a basket of the smallest home grown tomatoes and peppers you have ever seen. There was a donation jar next to the basket and a beach umbrella stuck in the ground to protect it from the sun. The teddy bear seated in the tree swing (donned in a dress and hair bow) was the element that gave us the hee-bee gee-bees. Stephen thought it had a pedophila kind of essence. It reminded me of Hansel & Gretel or some other childhood fairytale in which the innocent are lured into some kind of sinister trap. Perhaps our imaginations had just gone wild out on the open sea with no television, and it was simply the darkness that made an otherwise friendly gesture seem evil. But I remain convinced that there is a little Stephen King in this town.
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