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When my children were still young, I persuaded my husband to find a way to take a vacation at the New Jersey shore. I had fond memories of trips there, and even living by the beach for nearly a year, and I wanted my tribe to have the same experiences and memories. So we packed up three children into two Volkswagen Rabbits and set out for one week in a cottage at Ocean Beach. Traffic was horrendous, as usual, on the Garden State Parkway headed south. Nothing new there. When we finally got to the exit for Toms River, we decided to get off and give everyone a break and something to eat. When we did that, it seemed as if everyone else that was entering or leaving a cottage had the same idea. The restaurant was mobbed! Kids were running all over, parents were yelling to or at them to come back, cars in the parking lot were honking at them to avoid accidents and vying for spaces, and the whole effect was of total chaos!
After downing some burgers, fries, and sodas the family was better able to deal with the fact that we still weren't at the beach, but we were very close. For our kids, the beach was something new. We were lucky to have a lake with a small sandy beach area near our home. But that was a LAKE. They had never been to the OCEAN! And that incredible body of water had a whole different appearance plus an entirely different set of RULES! Yes we would be going into the water. Yes they could build sand castles. Yes we would walk the beach looking for sea shells. We would go to the bay side to try to trap crabs. And yes, we would buy the promised RAFT and Mommy would show them how to ride in on it! The cottage we rented had just two bedrooms since my daughter was still small enough to sleep on the couch. It was located on the section between the highways, and that made it CRITICAL to venture out ONLY if my husband or I was with them. But even with that restriction, no one lost enthusiasm for the beach. We had to go there RIGHT AWAY, just to experience the ocean. The result was disbelief that anything could be so BIG! And so ACTIVE, as wave after wave rolled into shore, broke, and scattered frothy white all over. Cautiously we all ventured forth to let the kids feel the FORCE of the waves hitting our legs and bodies and how, unlike the lake at home, humans were not in control, but the SEA WAS! The Ocean Beach authorities had divided the place into three areas for different activities: Fishing, Swimming, and Rafting. This was done to prevent anyone from being snagged by fish hooks, or run into by people on rafts. At a later point, an area was reserved for surfers who were attempting to find something big enough to ride. Our first day at the beach was with the intention of wading into the water at the edge after being thoroughly coated with sun screen. Holding hands, we went "jumping" over the waves and screaming with delight when we were splashed unmercifully by the relentless water. I explained to the kids that unlike our lake, the ocean had TIDES, times that made the waves higher and the water deeper twice each day and night. When the tide was LOW, it was easier to walk our farther. But as it was "coming in", it became HIGH which meant deeper water and bigger waves. They were intrigued. How could that ad to their fun? (Or for me, how did that affect their safety?) By the next day we were ready to go buy a RAFT at many of the area stores. Upon purchase, the store would inflate it for us. And with our canvas conveyance in hand, we headed back to the surf. Now it was my turn to talk about fun AND safety. By way of example, I took the raft out to the point where the waves were breaking. I lay down on the raft, facing the shore, but looking behind me to see the next BIG wave that I could RIDE IN. With the kids watching, I saw my ride and let it break right behind me so that it pushed the raft, with me on it, to the shore. Mom got big cheers for that! Since we only bought one raft, the kids would have to take turns riding it. My first son let me "escort" him to the breaker line where we waited for a "good wave". When it came, I told him to "paddle in with it", and he made his first successful ride. My second son went through the same actions and declared that his wave had been "bigger" and he had a "better" ride. This left my daughter who could not ride the same way but who could get onto the raft and let me "guide her" for a ride into shore. Our day went on like this until the sun became a bright red ball hanging over the bay to the west. In the early morning, while I let my husband sleep for a well earned rest, the kids and I went out to look for shells. If the tide was low, we could browse through the shells, bits of worn "sea glass", and other treasures that the ocean had left behind. On one occasion the large, empty shell of a horse shoe crab was sitting there with an opportunistic hermit crab exploring it to consider it for a new home. The next day there were live star fish left on the beach by the last high tide. And as always, sea gulls were skittering ahead of us looking for an easy meal. When we could smell the bacon cooking at a cottage closer to the beach, we gathered our goodies and went back across the highway to our cottage in search of breakfast. My husband had to be shown every shell, pebble or bit of worn glass that was found. Today we would go "rafting" again and find "better waves". Our days were blessed with good weather which led to good rafting and a lot of fun. At the end of each day the breeze would turn into a stiffer wind and the sky would fill with KITES, Box kites, kites with long tails, and all manner of other styles were airborne on strings held by beach goers. Of course the kids had to have them, too. So on a trip to the same store that sold us the raft, we purchased kites. These required minor assembly, so my techie husband was recruited for the task. Then each child had to "get the kite up" by running along the beach against the wind and holding the kite until it "caught", and then letting the string out carefully until it rose up. Success! Three kites flew above the shore. Remaining still to keep them up was a requirement and courtesy demanded that you kept your string free of other people's kites. As the sun went down, the kites came down CAREFULLY to avoid breaking their fragile construction or getting them too close to the water and getting them wet. These were all important skills for my neophyte kite flyers to learn. Although there were no trees to catch them in, like the unfortunate Charlie Brown of PeanutsŪ fame, they still required care. Success would come with practice as well. It was a tradition in my childhood to spend the last night at the shore visiting the boardwalk. There was a modest one to the north in Point Pleasant that had rides and games of chance and skill. As a mother, my job was to wave enthusiastically as each child passed by me on the Merry-Go-Round and in the "cars" or "planes" or whatever other ride was chosen. The riding ended when the tickets ran out, and attention turned to the games. As a child, my favorite was "Skeeball", building up a score to "buy" gifts. I never accumulated many points, but I kept trying anyhow. My kids, however, were good at it. They built up enough points to "buy" something worthwhile. And by combining all their points, they "bought" six chowder mugs with the words "Point Pleasant New Jersey" on them. I have these mugs still, almost 30 years later, to remind me of the early family vacations at the shore and how much fun we had together. Just Mom |
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