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.
A change is in the air. Summer is leaving us one day at a time. The air smells different. The sun’s arc is lower in the sky every day, making the light more mellow and not as harsh (and also not hitting the pool). The days are getting noticeably shorter. This seasonal swing seems early this year. We’ve been experiencing nighttime temperatures in the high 40s and low 50s. Nice sleeping weather but not good for keeping the pool at a reasonable swimming temperature. It seems like pool season just started and now it’s pretty much over. So sad. Don’t get me wrong—I love Fall—but this year I’m not quite ready to let go of Summer. A very odd thing for me to say since Summer is not my favorite season.
Fall is another truly wonderful season in the East. We get four true seasons, unlike Colorado where Spring and Fall amount to about two weeks of each. Here Fall lasts for months, spreading itself out like comfy blanket. I think you know what I mean. Like when you go to spread a blanket for a picnic, and as you lift your arms high and release it, the folds billow out and fall gently to the ground. That’s what it’s like. A slow settling down. Okay, maybe I am ready after all.
One side of getting ready for cooler weather is to stock up on firewood. Especially this year with the sky-rocketing price of fuel oil (which we happen to use to heat our house), we plan on using the fireplaces more than ever. As if (me) Fire Woman needs an excuse to build a fire. We had two cords delivered on Tuesday. At first moving all this wood looked like a monumental task.
But once I got started it just moved along a little at a time with the help of my trusty wheelbarrow.
I learned a long time ago the art of ricking up wood to make a nice rack. That knowledge has served me well over the years, especially at the cabin where we cut all our wood from our own property. However, there is a definite difference in the wood. In Colorado it was all soft pine and aspen wood, and unless the wood was still wet and not aged it was not very heavy. I could carry a good armload of, oh, say seven or eight pieces of wood at a time. That was the good part about it. The bad part was that being as soft and dry as it was, it burned very quickly.
“Put another log on the fire…”
Here we have hardwoods. Heavy even when it’s aged and dry. And, much slower burning. I am lucky to pick up one large piece to toss into the wheelbarrow—using both hands, I might add. No one-handed tossing going on here. A pretty good workout for those upper arms and back. Pushing a loaded wheelbarrow full of hardwood is not a task for the faint of heart either. whew.
Heavy work gloves are a real necessity. Not only to protect the hands, but to avoid getting bitten by all the spiders that have taken up residence in a few short days. What’s that you say, you don’t want to help me? Bunch of wimps!
Soon progress is made.
As I worked in the cool, fresh air of early morning, I could hear squirrels rustling around in the tree tops, then the thud of pine cones and/or early acorns falling to the ground below. They too must feel the shift in seasons, as they busily prepare their stash for the chillier months ahead. They must chew it off and store it because the ground is strewn with scores of cores of spent cones.
I like working with wood. The smell of the split wood is earthy and redolent of sap and, well, woody. It’s a honest, homey kind of job. I expected to be sore from my woody workout, but I’m not. I’ve done a little each day but there is still more to go. Since we won’t be here for the next few days and I really want to get the wood off of the grass so the grass doesn’t die on me, I’ve hired Luke to move it over to the gravel. The job of stacking will still be mine next week.
That’s why I love living where I am so much. This house. This small four acres of New Jersey countryside. It allows me to have a little bit of the cabin, yet I can have NYC and a cosmopolitan lifestyle when the mood suits. Country Girl : City Girl. The best of both worlds all rolled up into one. I think I’ll stay for awhile.
P.S. Rereading this post I see that I veered off topic quite a bit. Oh well. The thoughts kept tumbling out of my head and onto the keyboard as I went along. Sometimes it happens that way. I’m not going to go back and edit it; it is what is is!
I should start a PBS wildlife show right from my front door. Look who came to have a bite of bird food yesterday.
A very young coyote. Brazen as please, eating out of the bird feeder like it was its own bowl. Kind of cute, really. And pretty trusting for a coyote. She ( at least I think it was a she; I didn’t really have time to do a parts check ) was a bit wary of me in the upstairs window with my camera poking out, but not too spooked.
I was very surprised to see her. We’ve heard from other people that there were coyotes around but up until a few weeks ago we had neither seen one or heard one. A few weeks ago while swimming we heard a pack of coyotes across the street at our neighbor’s. We knew it was a pack with young pups, they make a very distinctive yelping and barking racket. The next day we heard them again. Then, nothing. Until now.
She’s not very pretty. Our coyotes that we had in Colorado were more wolf-like looking with brownish-gray coats. This one looks a bit like a hyena without spots. And golden brown. At first glance I thought it was a dog.
What?? You mean this isn’t really my food bowl?
Okay, then ... I guess I’ll leave ...
I mean really. The little family of two hen turkeys and their six babies come at least 3 times per day. They cluck and make restful chicken-y noises. I like them. The bears visit. We have deer but they rarely come into our yard. What’s next?
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ….......
zzzzzzzzzz…......
zzzz….......
Take Sominex tonight and sleep ... safe and restful ... sleep, sleep, sleep ...
ah, a zinnia pillow, just what I’ve always wanted...
The bees (or at least the bumblebees) have been acting strangely. They are not your typical busy bees. Au contraire my friend, they seem to be doing the exact opposite. They are sleepy, drugged, or? I have noticed this before right around this time of year. So bizarre. Is it an overdose of pollen? They are in a trance-like state for fifteen minutes or more. I can move the flower they are on, get my camera lens almost on their bodies and yet they snooze peacefully away. Their legs are in a relaxed position, their heads down as if in a deep snooze. After a while they awaken from their drug/pollen induced stupor and fly drunkenly off. Does anyone know why they do this?
let it all hang out
two naps are better than one
Then there is always the dangling sleep mode.
Don’t worry, it’s not dead, just very relaxed. After taking this photo I think the flash woke it up and it assumed this position.
