Let me preface this by saying that we live at the end of a dead-end (or cul-de-sac, if you prefer) street. We know the cars that go up and down on a regular basis. Our personal vehicles, the UPS driver (who likes to park down the street from my house and take his lunch hour pulled off by the woods), and a few people who can’t read the “No Outlet” sign that is posted at the beginning of our little rural street. Those people who can’t read usually end up driving to the end and making the circle only to head back down. People or things that don’t belong get noticed.

A few weeks ago I noticed a strange vehicle parked out in front of my house. I watched it for awhile and not much was happening. A man who was wearing a vest like a highway worker (florescent so as not to get run over) got out once in a while and stood by the side of the car. I got out the binoculars for a closer look and he seemed to be looking through paperwork. Curious. Soon another vehicle of the same type (SUV, burgundy, unmarked) joined him. As I watched, the second man took a huge piece of stiff cardboard and various other things out of the back of his SUV. They kept looking through a stack of papers they were holding, and pointing and gesturing and looking at my house. Then finally decided to put the big cardboard thing down. Out came the paint roller and out the door I went, no longer able to contain my curiosity as to what exactly they were doing.

When I got to the end of my driveway I could see they were painting a huge white arrow on the road. Okay, I said. I can’t stand the suspense any longer. Just what are you doing here? Why are you painting a huge white arrow on the road that just happens to be pointing at my house?

All kinds of reasons were going through my head. The arrow meant: burglarize this house; aliens land here; the woman who lives here likes bears, etc. You get my drift.

They replied that they were from a gas company and were marking lines for aerial photos. Hmm. Sounded a bit fishy to me especially when I know there are no existing gas lines in our street, a much bemoaned fact for all of us who would like to have gas appliances.

But there are no gas lines in our street I told them.

Well, we’re mapping out gas lines that exist around here they said. And by the way, they said, this is our 95th arrow that we’ve painted and we’ve only had five people ask what we are doing.

How disturbing it that? People in unmarked vehicles get out and start messing around in front of your house, painting arrows on the street that point to your house and no one says anything?

After talking with them for a few more minutes and telling them to tell whoever they worked for to put gas lines in our street, I deemed them honest and went back inside, still feeling a bit like I had a target on my back.

I knew I would hear from Neighbor Kim. I just knew I would. Not much gets past her and how could you not notice this huge white thing in the road? Sure enough, she called to find out what I knew about the suspicious arrow. I told her what I knew but I could tell she was not buying any of it. And I don’t blame her. After 9-11, people here in New York / New Jersey are very suspicious of things like this. Can you blame them?

Here is her portion of the story in her own words. Go Kim!

“After getting a few details from Lynne, I was driven to solve the mystery of the Big White Arrow pointing to her house.

The fact that they told her that they were “marking gas lines so that there would be a clear aerial view” was a curious statement from the suspicious men, since we do not have any gas lines on our street!  It’s not an offered utility to us.

I began with a call to the local gas company, PSE&G.  No, the 2 men skulking around in civilian clothes and unmarked vehicles were not theirs.  They suggested to me to try our local municipalities, although, if the project had to do with Gas, it should be theirs.  My dilemma was that it was already past their closing time and I would have to wait until the next morning to call.  There was no way I could wait!  I called the police department, and the dispatcher wrote the details as I told her.  She said that she would research this and get back to me ASAP.  Ten minutes later she called back to inform me that they mystery men were not marking Lynne’s house for the next robbery, nor marking hers as the perfect yard for the space ship landing.  They were from the Tennessee Pipe Line, who’s pipeline ran through the east coast, and yes, through Hewitt, NJ, and they would be working in our area for the next few weeks.

Boring!  I was already planning what I would take on the space ship when it landed.”

About three days later, just before dark one of the unmarked burgundy SUVs showed up and set up some equipment. He sat in front of our house and waited. It felt a lot like a stakeout.  When I looked ten or fifteen minutes later both he and his equipment had disappeared. I hadn’t been watching. Maybe they beamed him up? My house was still here though, and that was a good thing. I had expected to hear low flying aircraft at least, but didn’t.

Kim reported in that she had talked to him on her way home and that he had assured her this was the last that we would see of them. She also told him to put in her reservation on the alien ship. (At least that’s what she told me.)

So what happens the very next day? Back they come, only a different person this time than the day before and at an earlier time. This time instead of lurking in front of my house, he set up the equipment and left. I snuck out and took pics.

Within a half hour all the equipment was gone once again and they haven’t been back. No aliens did a happy dance in my yard either. Now we are left with this eyesore of an arrow still pointing at my house accusingly. What to do? Ignore it? Paint over it? Write “Welcome Brother Aliens” on it? Suggestions?

You have to admit, it’s a catchy name: Ship Bottom. I love it. A perfect name for a beach town. That’s where we spent our weekend at the invitation of our neighbors Kim and Mark, at their shore house. I fell in love with its signature water tower. I don’t quite know why.

Ship Bottom is on Long Beach Island, affectionately referred to as “LBI.” LBI is an 18-mile-long narrow barrier island off the mainland, and one of the most popular vacation spots for New Jersyites. Frankly, I had never understood the whole “shore” thing. We had really only visited the boardwalks at Point Pleasant and Seaside Heights and had never spent much more than a few hours at either one. After this weekend, I get it. No wonder it’s so popular.

Ship Bottom itself is a bustling little town. There is a real vacation feel to the streets that are lined with restaurants, gift shops, ice cream stands, and beach rentals. We walked the two short blocks to the beach laden down with beach chairs, umbrella and whatever else we needed for a few hours of sun and sand.

Here are some beach scenes early in the morning before the throngs of beach-goers arrive. Every morning the sand is freshly groomed, erasing all evidence of the day before.

Here is a shot from our “spot” later on:

And here is another shot looking down the beach at midday. Compare this to the second photo of the empty beach above which was taken in the same spot to see the difference. Colorful umbrellas as far as the eye can see!

I felt the name must have some history behind it so I did a little digging. Here is what I found on the Ship Bottom website:
~~~~ Ship Bottom is one of the oldest place names on Long Beach Island.  According to the local historian John Bailey Lloyd, author of “Six Miles at Sea,” the name dates from an unusual shipwreck that occurred in March, 1817.

The captain of a schooner heading south was navigating through a thick fog when he heard cries from the direction of the shoreline.  Encountering a schooner heading north, he alerted Captain Stephen Willets of Tuckerton that there might be a ship in trouble near the shore.  Although Willets and his crew could see nothing in the fog , nor could they hear anything but the clang of their own ship’s bell, they rowed along the outer bar for several hours searching for the endangered ship.  Finally a dark shape appeared—the hull of a ship overturned in the shoals.  Corpses hung from the rigging and bobbed in the frigid sea.  As one of Willets’ men climbed onboard the beached schooner, he heard a noise under his feet—someone tapping the inside of the barnacled hull. 

With an ax, Willets chopped a hole in the ship’s bottom near the keel and, after much struggling, freed the young woman trapped inside.  She spoke no English.  But after being taken ashore, she expressed her gratitude by drawing a cross of thanks in the sand.  No one knows her name or the name of the ship because they were never recorded.  But the place of the shipwreck and the rescue became known as “Ship Bottom.” ~~~~

I will be sharing more photos and more of our experience tomorrow. Stay tuned. Until then feel free to enjoy the Friday night sunset from the rooftop deck.

On Saturday my neighbor Kim and I decided to try out the little cafe, Blue Skies, that we had read about in the local newspaper. The cafe is located in the terminal building of Greenwood Lake Airport. The airport has one runway and is mainly for small aircraft, and occasionally a Homeland Security helicopter. It is also the home of a long-out-of-service Lockheed Constellation (named the “Champagne Lady” or the “New Jersey Connie”), which is attached to the main terminal building. This plane has quite a history and if you’re interested in her back story you can read it here.

Right now she is housing the flight school offices, but we’ve heard rumors that they are going to turn her into a bar and have outside tables underneath her. I think it would be great, don’t you?

We sat at one of the two booths next to the window so we could watch the planes come and go. We had trouble deciding what to order because it all looked good to us. We both ended up with the Filet Mignon sandwich with grilled onions and cheese. Very tasty! There wasn’t much air traffic happening, but as we ate a beautiful little bright blue biplane landed and coasted to a stop right in front of our window. The owner of the plane came inside for lunch.

Now you’ve all heard me talk about my neighbor Kim and being “kim”-napped. She’s always getting me into something (what would I do without you, Kim?) and today was no exception. While I was getting cash from the ATM, she was busy at the counter asking if we could go onto the field and take a photo of the biplane. Now I did have my camera, but I hadn’t even thought about asking to take a photo of the biplane! However, I had to admit it was a good idea. Just as I heard the woman telling her it wasn’t allowed, the owner of the plane jumped up and said he’d go out there with us. As we were walking out, he continued on to say that not only could we take photos of the plane, he wanted us to actually climb in and have our photos taken.

I was hesitant but it didn’t take long for them to talk me into it. I mean, why not? He made sure we got in correctly and stepped on the wing in just the right spot. I needed longer legs but managed to climb into the tiny cockpit.

Here I am ready to roll!

Of course I had to make Kim get in too since she started the whole thing to begin with. For her photo he pulled out his mascot. (I think it’s Rocky from Rocky and Bullwinkle.)

There is a place for a passenger right in front of the pilot. He told us that if the weather was warmer (no canopy for the passenger) he’d take us up and do a roll. Whaaaat? No, no, I mumbled, not me! But, then again, you just never know what I might do ...