Heading out onto the bay by 8am we caught a favorable current the rest of the way into Cape May, NJ. I had been highly anticipating our visit here as, even though we were now so close to home, I had never had the opportunity to visit this lazy beach town. The sun was shining and there was a light breeze which helped keep the flying critters away. Passing the Elbow of Cross Ledge Lighthouse, there were hundreds of birds perched all along the structure and we prayed they wouldn’t do a group flyover to greet us with some unpleasant droppings. The lighthouse marked the southern end of a navigational hazard along the Delaware Bay and we stayed well away from it. Now just a skeleton tower aided by a solar beacon, it was once a brick lighthouse manually operated by a crew of keepers. Container ships were busy trekking along the main shipping channel as were fishing boats some of which looked more like they should be on the waters of Thailand than the Delaware Bay off the coast of New Jersey.
Our course was plotted directing us to the Bay Shore Channel and into the Cape May Inlet. Heading through the breakwater, we waited for the ferry to maneuver around and make its way by us on the way to Lewes, Delaware full of goods and passengers. Arriving at Utsch’s Marina a little after lunchtime, the dock hands helped us tie up in the slip. Walking over to the office to settle our bill, we were given a very thoughtful gift bag filled with soaps, biscotti, maps and a bottle of wine. An older woman who lived in the area made nautical wreaths decorated with hundreds of shells that were on display at the desk and we decided to purchase one to add to the boat decor. Well, I made the executive decision on the purchase as the Captain thought the weight from all the hot glue used on the project would slow us down significantly. Not like the fourth anchor we picked up along the way and the filthy bottom of the boat had anything to do with our speed issue.
Cape May, with all its Victorian charm, is the oldest seaside resort town in the nation. While I filled the bike tires with air, the Captain did his best to make a point as he left the dreaded socks all over the bed once he located their hiding place behind the stash of toilet paper. Peddling off to Beach Avenue to catch a glimpse of the ocean and see the conditions, we made our way to Washington Street Mall to walk around the shops and boutiques. The mall was right in the center of Cape May and was bordered by idyllic Victorian homes leading us all the way to the water.
We locked up the bikes and went to the outdoor patio of Barefoot Bar and Grill which was packed with beachgoers enjoying the afternoon after a day of fun in the sun. To our surprise, a thunderstorm, which was more like a monsoon, came down on us a few minutes later and we hid under a makeshift tent set up by the band. One good thing about being stuck here for the time being was they were serving Cape May local beers as we crouched down on the floor with a few new friends in an attempt to stay dry. About two hours later the rain let up just enough that we were able to dry off the bike seats and ride to Lucky Bones Back Water Grille for an amazing dinner and then peddled back to the boat as fast as we could before the rain started up again.
The rain poured down all evening and into the next morning. There was a break in the storms around 11am and I ran to take a shower and throw the bag of wet clothes and towels from the day before in the dryer. Once the bikes were dried off and Duane secured a plastic bag to each seat, we were on our way to Plum Farm. There were chickens and pigs covered in mud all along the trails on the farm. None of which smelled particularly pleasant after the rain storm. I was concentrating so hard on not getting stuck in the mud and falling over, as that would definitely have ruined my day, that I almost ran over some chicks trying to catch up to their mother. Back at the main part of the farm, we found a table in the herb garden and I ordered a sandwich from the food truck. The Captain opted for dessert with a slice of pumpkin cream cheese pound cake. Both of which we washed down with farm fresh blackberry juice.
The ride up to Willow Creek Winery was scenic and charming as we rode down the road surrounded by grape vines and groves. Not thinking we would need a reservation, there ended up being a two hour wait for an outdoor table and no tastings were being offered due to the virus, so we were soon on our way. Riding back toward the beach, we stopped at the Cape May Point Lighthouse and then walked along the sand to the abandoned World War II bunker. As much of an eye sore as it was, it was fascinating to see the concrete structure still intact on the sandy shore. Our last night in town, we arrived back at the Washington Street Mall to grab a drink and decide on dinner. Voting on the Lobster House, we rode back to load the bikes onto the boat and freshen up before heading out on foot to Fisherman’s Wharf. We had heard rave reviews about this harbor front restaurant which boosted five separate dining experiences. As was expected at this point, the indoor dining rooms were closed. Putting our name on the list for both the open patio and the schooner, we walked the ramp along the water enjoying a glass of wine.
The buzzer for the Schooner American rang first and we settled in at a small table on the deck of the 130 ft. Grand Banks sailing vessel moored to the restaurant. With breathtaking views of the harbor, we were not disappointed at all and ordered an array of appetizers from the menu.
Being only about 300 miles from home, we will definitely have to return when we have more time and there are less restrictions due to the pandemic. All things aside, we had thoroughly enjoyed our time in Cape May and were grateful to watch as the sun set on another remarkable day.
The port engine had begun to spray water so the Captain had to run the temperamental starboard engine for most of our travels to Atlantic City. Out on the New Jersey ICW we were soon faced with all too familiar and very unpleasant boat wakes from passing traffic. We were back in the land of the impatient and inconsiderate as the boats zipped back and forth along the channel. The ICW around Sea Isle City was particularly shallow and we had to continuously watch our depth. Taking some areas especially slow, we plowed through an area of only 2 feet at one point and churned up a lot of sand and mud. We saw more than one boat not paying attention run hard aground that afternoon and they were left waiting for the tide to change and lift them off the bottom.
Because of the depth issues and not wanting to suck up any more sand and mud into the already overworked engines, we turned out the Ocean City Inlet and into open water. The conditions on the ocean were much more manageable with 2 foot rollers than constantly trying to avoid the rude and inexperienced boaters so I was more than compliant with the Captain’s decision. It was a two hour ride to the Absecon Inlet and Atlantic City. Setting the anchor across from Harrah’s Casino in Brigitine Cove, the city looked pretty deserted. The skyline was lit up and the ferris wheel spinning, but, as we looked through the binoculars, there was by no way the amount of people on the boardwalk there should have been on a beautiful summer evening. We sat outside as the day turned into night and had a pre-birthday toast while the lights of the city danced off the water. Tomorrow was going to be a good day.
