After another 4:45am wakeup and a long dark drive through the pine barrens, Barnegat light was in view by sunrise on Saturday. The forecast called for a sky full of sun, highs around 45° and light to moderate winds. I was mentally prepared for a half-decent day. When I arrived, however, it was closer to 28° with strong 20-30mph gusts coming off the ocean… sand and sea spray coming at you sideways. Make-your-eyes-water-nasty. I’ll say it again: I hate wind. Absolutely hate it. Abhor would be a much better word, actually.
Moving right along… The jetty was out of the question unless you had some urgent reason to meet Davy Jones. Taking a fall into the icy drink wearing four layers of clothes and heavy boots was not my idea of how I wanted to go out. Those rocks were slippery as hell, and every couple of seconds a big wave would come crashing over their tops. I’ve seen people have their feet swept right out from underneath them – even with a small amount of fast moving water. No way was I going anywhere near that mess. Not being able to get reasonably close or up on top of them meant I was pretty much SOL. Target species of the day were supposed to be Sea Scoters and Eider, and there were *plenty* of them there…they were just way the hell out in the inlet, bobbing up and down on the swells. After an hour of wistfully watching the activity in the inlet, my hands and face were totally numb. The tide wouldn’t even be high for another several hours. I decided to call it a morning and trudge back to the car – skunked. Oh well. You know what they say.
On the way back, there were a couple of Semipalmated Sandpipers flirting around the edges of a tidal pool. Grabbed a few half decent shots there, which brightened my mood just a hair.
When I got back to the car and started to warm up, I decided to head south to the E.B. Forsythe NWR. Initially, I had considered heading up to Jamaica Bay (near NYC) but figured if it was this bad in Jersey, it couldn’t be a whole lot better up there. Action at Forsythe was pretty decent, even though it was mid-day, and the light was well… mid-day light. Lots of birds there, saw the standard duckage and lots of snow geese – which have been scarce in Delaware this year for some reason. Seeing them again en-masse brought a smile to my face. A quick note to anyone heading to Forsythe in the near future: they’ve got the loop road closed at Jen’s Trail. This means that there’s two-way traffic the whole way around, and you’ll have to turn around at the end to come back. Not a huge deal, but something to consider on busy weekends. I stuck around for a bit of shooting, but was getting fidgety. You can only grab so many pictures of snow geese.
By this time, it was about 12:30 and I didn’t want to call it a day. I’d gotten up early and driven all the way out here… but just didn’t feel like I had gotten what I came for. I really wanted to add those Scoters and Eider to my list. It was winter, the sun was relatively low in the sky, and by 3:30, the light would be getting semi-nice. So I opted to take the 45 minute drive all the way back to Barnegat.
When I arrived for the second time that day, the only thing that had changed was the temperature and the number of people. Increases in both, which was a blessing and a curse. The place was crawling with people, dogs, kids screaming, etc. There were even a few crazy nuts that were attempting to walk the jetty. One guy got blasted by a wave pretty good – I mean a “head-to-toe-lost-him-in-the-spray” type soaking – and I thought for sure he was going in, tripod and all. Knocked him on his ass, and some pieces of gear went flying off into the rocks. Still not sure how he managed to hang on, but luckily for him it looked like the only thing that was hurt was his ego. Yeesh. I kept trudging all the way out to the end once again, only to stand there and watch the same Scoters and Eider doing just about the same thing I saw them doing 8 hours before. Hanging out in the middle of the inlet, bobbing up and down on 5 foot swells. There were a few Long Tails and Loons making close approaches here and there, but unless you were up on the rocks the shots just weren’t going to happen. Meh. At least the wind was starting to die down a little. I started the long walk back a bit sooner this time, taking my time with some Sandpipers and Turnstones on the way.
I was really getting tired of walking in the soft sand so I climbed up onto the concrete walkway that led back to the lighthouse. Wouldn’t you know it, there were a couple dozen Ruddy Turnstones and Sandpipers hanging out on the shady side of the jetty not more than 100 feet from the lighthouse. Every time a wave would come in it would force them up onto the tops of the rocks and into the last bits of remaining sunlight. As I sat there shooting away, I thought to myself, “Man, I drove all that way, walked all that way… and it comes down to getting some decent shots at the end of the day about a football field away from where I’m parked. Grrr.” All part of the photographic journey, I guess. Wouldn’t be the same any other way. I packed up with the intention of heading home and felt like I had gotten a requisite numbers of “keepers” for the effort I had put in for the day. It was 3:30, and I had to be headed back to the parking lot since the gates were shutting at 4pm again. (Tip: It was on this trip that I discovered one can park across the street and not have to deal with the schedules and deadlines of the park gate ever again)
About 20 paces later, I noticed a crowd of about 40 people gathered around the far corner of the lighthouse – “What the hell is going on over there?”, I asked a guy headed the other way. “Ah, somebody saw a seal”, he said. He made it sound like it was such an everyday occurrence, almost like seals fell from the sky or appeared on his lawn each morning. With a slight trot to my step I headed over to see what the commotion was. Sure as shit, there was the seal. A young Harp Seal, I’m pretty sure – in darn good shape and spirits. He was just hanging out on the rocks warming up in the sun, making faces, rolling around, yawning. You know, the stuff seals do. He was quite the ham and curious to boot. Didn’t make any noises – just a mutual “checking out” of each other.
To my surprise he was staying put. With each passing minute the sun crept down a little further, continuing to bathe him in just a little better light. This was it. This was the reason I had gotten out of bed. The day had taken several twists and turns, highs and lows, but there it was. For almost 15 minutes, I was in heaven. As I fired away, I realized the crowd around me was starting to disperse. A quick watch check showed that 4pm was quickly approaching, and anybody that didn’t want to get locked inside the parking lot better leave *now*. I contemplated running out and moving my car, but figured I’d had my fill. So I said my goodbyes to Mr. Seal, and quickly headed back to the car. I hadn’t necessarily gotten what I came for, but I felt like mother nature had somehow rewarded me for putting in the effort. I’ve learned that anytime she decides to shine on you in that manner, it’s better to bow gracefully in thanks and take it all in rather than press your luck any further.
Funny how things just work out sometimes.
