CHAPTER NINETY-THREE: NORTH JERSEY IS LOUD!

CHAPTER NINETY-THREE: NORTH JERSEY IS LOUD!

On to New York! Please, God, rescue us from the loudest fuel dock on the East Coast at Hoffman’s East in Manasquan, and help us move on to Liberty Landing in the shadow of Miss Liberty herself. It is not only that the only conversations that go on right next to Slow Motion are shouting matches between the staff and the boaters who pull up to get full or just to shout, it’s also that we are a captive audience, given that the dock is fixed and the tide has risen so high that we can’t even get off the boat. Whoever thought fixed docks were an option where the tidal change is 5 to 6 feet is an idiot. And don’t get me started on how little help we got when we arrived yesterday afternoon and were told to back into the slip next to the fuel dock. This was a radical change from T head we had been told was waiting for us at Hoffman’s West. Unfortunately, a sailboat became disabled and was placed on that very T head, apparently never to move again. So our reservation was moved to Hoffman’s East, where we were unceremoniously assigned to the fuel dock slip. That’s enough grousing for the day. After all, we are living the dream, cruising along the Atlantic Ocean, less than 50 miles away from the unparalleled New York Skyline and the Statue of Liberty. What’s to complain about? Oh yes, did I mention the weather? There is a threat of thunderstorms in this area and the entire area on our path to Liberty Landing. That is why we sit and wait in Manasquan until the coast is clear. So that’s where that phrase came from!

Atlantic City is already a distant memory, but a very fond one. The Golden Nugget, which manages the Frank Farley State Marina, has a spa. The Spa has therapeutic massages. And I got one – from Michelle, who has really, really strong hands and arms. I asked for a deep, deep tissue massage with lots of pressure, and I got it. It hurt so good! After the massage I ambled to the steam bath to open up all the pores and let my skin breathe out any toxins. Michelle massaged my facial muscles, a first for me, and they really needed it. I didn’t know about that pressure point just below the cheekbones. The pain was exquisitely unbearable – for just a moment. A spa in the middle of huge glitzy gambling arcades is a bit surreal, but I strolled past all the tourists who came to risk their hard-earned money on casino-biased machines and knew that I had made the safest investment with the biggest payoff at Chez Michelle. Hey! If gambling can give you complete relaxation, go for it. If gambling soothes every one of your aching muscles, by all means feed the slots. If gambling makes you tingle all over your body, hustle up to the blackjack table. But I seriously doubt it. My advice: Next time you go to Atlantic City and you want to bring something of value home with you, head for the spa at the Golden Nugget. Ask for Michelle. You will not be disappointed.

We are in the high dollar district for marinas. The Atlantic City marina was three dollars a foot on weekdays, four dollars on weekends. Hoffman’s East – I am not kidding – charges three dollars a foot, whether they put you on a quiet T head or next to the babbling fuel dock. Fortunately, they give a discount for Boat US and lower the rate to $2.50 per foot ($20 per day for electric). Calvert Marina in Solomons – one dollar a foot and $5 per day for electric – is looking really good right now. I can’t’ wait to see what Liberty Landing is offering for four dollars and forty cents per foot – gold plated cleats on the dock? Clear water? Hahahahaha. Chippendale dock hands? Yes, the New York sky line is priceless, but they don’t have to maintain it. That’s the luck of their location. We should find out later today what “amenities” can add up to a price per foot that is four times what we pay in Solomons. I bet they don’t even have a cat like Midnight in their office or a giant blue heron living under the dock.

We have cruised on the ocean for two straight days, and it has been glorious. The first leg from Cape May to Atlantic City was very calm, no more than 1 foot waves. Most of the time we had the whole ocean to ourselves. We sailed past Wildwood and its Ferris wheel, then past Ocean City, which also has a Ferris wheel. These cities and their beaches look really inviting from the ocean. We started seeing “fish frenzies”, disturbances in the water caused by fish who are probably being stalked by their predators and who come to the surface and jump up and down trying to escape their jaws. The opportunistic sea gulls are always right on the edge of these flapping fish, waiting for sloppy seconds. On the way to Manasquan from Atlantic City, we saw more fish feeding circles. The Admiral could not resist, so he put bait on his fishing reel and dropped it down off the stern. Unfortunately, the current was so strong it carried the line up off the bottom, so the bottom feeders did not have much of a chance to grab the tasty bait. Still, it looked like the Admiral was having fun for a while. Actually, he looked just as happy as his twins when they were about 3 years old fishing off the back of a lobster boat – and catching nothing. There is something about throwing a line into the ocean which makes you feel alive and purposeful.

Also on the way to Manasquan we saw a helicopter soar over us, then land not more than 200 yards away – on the water – stay there for all of a hot minute – then lift up and soar back over Slow Motion heading to shore. The Admiral speculated that they had retrieved a couple kilos of cocaine where they landed. Maybe so. There was a sailboat suspiciously near the “landing site”. This is as good a guess as any about why a helicopter would suddenly drop out of the sky on to the ocean surface and stay there for a very short period of time, before returning to its place of origin. It surely was not an enforcement stop. And there did not appear to be any training going on. One of the pleasures of boating is that your mind gets to roam free for hours, and you can come up with the most outlandish explanations for a seemingly innocent occurrence. And you can be right on, but never know for sure. We knew when we saw a family of porpoises swimming in synchronized fashion along the ocean near Slow Motion that we were watching them hunt – no flight of fancy there. That’s what they do as a group. But they are far more predictable in their movements than helicopter pilots. It was great to see porpoises again. I was fearful that the water had become too polluted for them to frolic, but it looks like this part of the Atlantic is still porpoise-friendly. We’ll have to see what the waters of the New York Harbor hold in store for us.

The only thing you need to remember about Manasquan is that the current is wicked – in the original sense of the word “wicked”, before it was appropriated by South Boston denizens. Two to three knots, most of the day. This means that docking and undocking are always adventures, whether you have any dock hands assisting you or not. That’s why we arrived yesterday at Hoffman’s East at “slack” tide, in an effort to minimize the effects of the current. It worked. The Admiral backed into the slip next to the fuel dock, no help from the dock hands, who were mesmerized by a 170 pound tuna. It’s like they never saw a fish before. This is supposed to be the Sport Fishing Capital of the World – or is that Barnegat Bay? No matter. These guys work every day fueling fishing boats. Come on – they must have seen at least one tuna before yesterday. But when did they ever get a chance to help me and the Admiral dock Slow Motion – yesterday, for the first and only time! We will most likely not return. We waited about 30 minutes for some assistance in getting the electric hooked up. Then we did it ourselves, when we were still able to get off the boat. They did not offer to hook up the water. The Power of the Tuna beguiled them for a long time. I have to admit I took a lot of photos too, but that was after we secured Slow Motion, not before. For me, it was the first time I ever saw a yellow fin tuna other than the pieces that are served at sushi bars. It is an awesome creature. I bet it put up a very good fight.

Maybe everyone in New Jersey wears hearing aids, or needs to wear them. The decibel level of the conversations in this State is so much higher than even in nearby Delaware, Pennsylvania or Maryland. And the folks in the South are whisperers compared to their New Jersey counterparts. There are no more “Yes, Ma’am” and “Yes, Sir” courtesies. There is a lot of boasting and loud celebrating of the most inane accomplishments. I know this is the land of Snooki and The Situation, but even before the “Jersey Shore” fiasco, New Jerseyites, particularly their Governor, Chris Christie, prided themselves in their openness (read: rudeness) and directness (read: offensiveness). I have to distinguish between South Jersey and North Jersey, where the “openness” and “directness” reach gargantuan proportions. South Jersey residents, like my brother for many years, still speak in normal voice tones and still carry on civilized discussions that are not punctuated by the f word. North Jersey residents – try to expand your vocabulary and please, please, try to tone it down, just a little. Maybe it’s the stark contrast of being on the ocean for 6 to 8 hours with no noise but an occasional seagull (or helicopter) and then arriving at a marina filled with shouting buttheads which exacerbates the gratuitous back and forth nonstop yelling. Whatever it is, this constant noise has almost destroyed all the benefits I received from my Atlantic City massage.