{Seven Mile Island – June 1985}
“What a gorgeous Saturday morning!” said Dylan Masters as he walked into his house and greeted Christine, his wife of forty years. “I just can’t get over how low the tide waters are today. Probably the lowest I’ve seen in ten years.”
Christine responded from the kitchen of their large five-bedroom home on a unique three-acre bayfront peninsula near the northwestern tip of the island. “Oh, it’s probably related to the recent storm and the full moon. What were you doing at the dock, dear?”
“Oh, I was just lubricating the boat line pulleys,” said Dylan as he pointed outside toward the lines that held his boat securely to the dock. “They were really corroded. Considering the extreme tide changes, I don’t want to risk the lines getting stuck. If that happens, the increased tension could damage our boat and dock! By the way, what time did you say that Elizabeth and the troops are arriving?”
Christine walked over to her husband, who was gazing out the large family room window toward the waterfront. “Liz told me that they were leaving Moorestown at nine and hoped to arrive around eleven. It all depends on how much traffic they hit.”
Dylan adjusted his wristwatch and noticed that it was already half past eleven. “Well, they should be here any minute now.” Then he smiled at his wife and said, “Just think of it: three active kids in this old castle for the entire summer! Not to mention Liz and Mark. I hope that Liz can actually relax a bit while she’s here instead of constantly worrying about her children … and us more mature folks.” Dylan, known as Grandpa to the Sanders’ children, shook his head and laughed in amusement. “Ugh, mature folks.”
Christine gave her husband a heartfelt hug and said, “Come on, you old fool. We have more to do before they arrive.” With that, she kissed Dylan on the cheek, and they exited the family room’s sliding glass door onto an expansive exterior wood deck. Once outside, Christine and Dylan filled their time by placing several chairs around a large picnic table, knowing that they would soon need to serve lunch to their summer guests.
A short time later, Grandpa merrily greeted the newcomers. “Well, hello there. Welcome to the Island!” As the Sanders family exited their vehicle after the two-and-a-half-hour journey, he added, “How was the drive, Mark?”
Mark responded, “A little longer than normal, but overall, it was just fine.”
Elizabeth chimed in by expressing that it was a very relaxing drive on such a beautiful summer day.
While Elizabeth and her parents warmly greeted one another, Wayne and Johnny ran up to their grandpa to say hello. “OK, you two,” Grandpa said in mock seriousness. “Let’s get one thing straight before we commence with the summer festivities. Let it be known that this year, I will get up on those darn water skis! But there is no way that you will ever get me in that inner tube contraption again!”
With that, the entire family broke into a great roar of laughter that momentarily drowned out the ever-present sound of the abundant bird population that thrived throughout the Island and nearby wetlands.
“All right, kids,” said Grandma. “As soon as your bags are unloaded and placed up in your rooms, I want everyone to gather on the back deck for an Avalon-style grand lunch. And don’t worry, Lisa, I have plenty of fruit, salad, and diet sodas so that you can maintain your cute figure!”
With that, Lisa blushed and embarrassingly responded, “Grandma!” Elizabeth looked at her attractive five-foot-five daughter and winked as if to tell her that Grandma only meant well.
Lisa added with a big grin. “Thanks, Grandma. I’ll definitely be watching my calories this summer. But it may be a challenge since I’ll be working at the Fishin’ Pier Grille, and you know how much I love the food there!”
A short time later, the family congregated on the back deck for some tasty food and beverages. The Masters’ neighbors, Bob and Lilly Bloomfield, joined them for lunch. The group had a nice time catching up, describing the highlights in their lives since the previous summer. They also discussed a recent hurricane that had caused extensive damage across the island, including to the nearby bridge at Townsends Inlet. This important span connected Seven Mile Island with Sea Isle City, located on Ludlam Island.
Turning toward Mark, Bob asked, “Have you had a chance to tour the island since you arrived? The recent storm really caused some havoc around here.”
“Not yet. But my local newspaper printed an article in the latest issue indicating that the damages were severe.”
Bob pointed to the inlet bridge that was about a quarter mile to the northeast of Dylan’s deck. “If you really focus, you can see some of the structural damage from here!”
After gazing toward the bridge for a few seconds, Mark responded, “Wow. It certainly looks like the bridge was hit hard.”
Bob and Mark had met several years earlier and instantly felt a strong bond. Bob was close to twenty years older than Mark, and each greatly admired the other, most likely because they had served in the US Navy after graduating college. These two strong men were brothers-in-arms and like long-lost comrades. They also loved spending time on their boats, which enhanced their friendship.
As the group continued to chat, Bob asked Mark and Dylan if they wanted to go out on his boat for a tour around the island after lunch. Dylan said, “That sounds like a marvelous idea. It’ll give us a chance to see how Mother Nature is really in charge!”
Sensing one of her husband’s notorious speeches concerning his displeasure with the overdevelopment of some of South Jersey’s barrier islands, Elizabeth spoke up. “Dylan, you better eat your lobster roll before that greenhead fly decides it’s his!”
Waving the large flying insect away from his plate, Dylan bit into his delicious sandwich and followed it down with a satisfying swig of ice-cold lemonade. “Ah, that’s good,” he said with an expression of pure delight.
At 2:30 p.m., the men walked a few hundred yards south to Bob’s bayside home, where they boarded his twenty-eight-foot Grady-White fishing boat. Johnny and Wayne tagged behind after Bob had enthusiastically invited the boys to come along.
Before his sons boarded the boat, Mark handed each boy a life jacket and warned, “Behave yourselves, comprende?” Both boys simply smiled and gave their dad a thumbs-up.
The Grady-White traveled a short distance to the north and then turned eastward into Townsends Inlet. “So, Dylan, in all your years here on Seven Mile Island, have you witnessed any storms that were as strong and damaging as this last one?” asked Mark.
“Let’s see. There have been quite a few dangerous hurricanes and Nor’easters over the years that caused extensive damage. But for us old-timers, that’s the risk we’re willing to take in order to live on this beautiful barrier island.”
Mark pressed on. “But is there one storm that stands out?”
Dylan thought for a moment and then answered, “Yes. One storm that comes to mind. It was indeed a massive hurricane that struck during the summer of 1945. I remember it well.
“Back then, we didn’t have early storm warning systems or long-range weather forecasts, which would have been helpful because that storm attacked like a frenzied pack of wolves that hadn’t eaten for a week!”
Dylan’s animated excitement caught the attention of the two boys. They quickly moved closer to their grandfather to listen since they had never heard of a storm described like that.
“Hey, Grandpa, what are you talking about?” asked Wayne.
“Ya see, that storm occurred toward the tail end of the Second World War. I only recall it so vividly because it hit with all of its might only one week after Christine and I purchased our house on Seventh Street. We were young and happy newlyweds!
“Your grandma and I had been painting the interior rooms of the house that day. We needed a break, so we decided to walk outside. That’s when we realized that the beautiful morning had substantially changed.”
Wayne asked, “What do you mean, Grandpa?”
“Well, we were really surprised at how the winds had become so fierce. More frightening were the coal-black clouds that quickly approached from the southeast, along with the rumble of thunder. In no time at all, the sky turned almost completely dark except for tremendous flashes of lightning.
Shaking his head, Dylan added, “Blame it on the paint fumes, but we were convinced that the damn Nazis had not surrendered, but instead Hitler had made some sort of pact with the Devil and was able to attack our country with a new kind of super storm weapon.”
The boys intently listened to their grandfather as he said, “I have to admit, this likely sounds silly, but our imaginations were running wild at the time. In hindsight, after experiencing four long years of that frightful war against the Nazis, we likely weren’t the only folks feeling the same way.”
Dylan, looking a bit uncomfortable, adjusted his position in the boat seat. He then stared out over the ocean as if reflecting on long-forgotten memories before he continued. “Regardless, the storm hit Avalon like a blitzkrieg from every warplane in Germany’s Luftwaffe air force. We experienced bullet-like hail, missile-like rain, tornado-like winds, and the biggest waves ever to hit Avalon. For two straight days, the entire island was ravaged by that storm!”
“How did you survive?” asked Wayne.
“Well, your grandma and I were very lucky. We took shelter in a large interior closet for most of it. Somehow, the house withstood the storm and had only minimal structural damage. Even so, Avalon lost a great deal of land and property. Amazingly, the storm deposited tons of earth and sand onto the northwest portion of our property. All said and done, we acquired almost two acres of new land, which essentially created our amazing lagoon!”
Mark then asked, “That’s a lot of terrain. Was it yours to keep?”
Dylan responded, “Great question. I thought the same thing after the storm, especially since the elevation of the newly deposited land was several feet higher than our existing property. Fortunately, I worked with town and state officials and quickly reached an agreement to purchase a deed for the additional land and a grant for the water rights at a fair price. As a condition of the purchase, I agreed to immediately build a permanent bulkhead around the entire waterfront perimeter in order to ensure that the property would not erode back into the bay waters.”
Dylan then went on to explain that he subsequently had his house lifted onto pilings so that it could sit at the same level as the newly acquired acreage. “While that storm was truly horrific in many ways, it improved our property. For that reason, I’ll always remember that summer storm from 1945!”
As Dylan finished his story, Bob slowed his boat so that everyone could see the severe damage to the steel and concrete inlet bridge. The boys gazed in awe, contemplating how the extreme power of the recent storm had caused so much destruction.
As the boat headed eastward past the bridge, Wayne and Johnny moved to the front of the boat. The boys could not help but reflect on not only their grandfather’s story but also the many other powerful storms that had struck Seven Mile Island over the years. Johnny turned to Wayne and said, “It’s really amazing how the island’s residents are always willing to rebuild after big storms.”
As the brothers moved towards the boat's bow, they heard their dad’s loud voice, “Boys, don’t even think about hanging your legs over the sides! It’s not only dangerous, but the marine police will arrest all of us if they spot legs extended over the boat’s edge!”
While the boys had not dangled their feet over the bow, Johnny responded, “OK, Dad. Thanks for the reminder.” The brothers then sat down, keeping a safe distance from the side.
“What’s buggin’ Dad?” said Wayne to his brother.
“Oh, you know how he gets when he’s on a boat. Once a captain, always a captain! Anyways, how ’bout Grandpa’s story? Awesome!”
The boys relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the boat ride as they continued to talk about storms, the Second World War, and how cool it was that Grandpa could so vividly remember such an amazing event that occurred forty years ago.
After exiting the inlet, Bob navigated the craft in a southbound direction, cruising about 250 yards parallel from the beach. The boat easily glided on the mild ocean swells as it passed by Seven Mile Island’s large beaches on the right.
The adults discussed how the massive dunes just beyond the shoreline beaches had always been a blessing to the residents of Avalon and Stone Harbor. The hills of sand covered by dense vegetation and grasses provided a natural protective barrier from high ocean waves and the relentless series of storms.
“Just think of how much worse the damage might have been if not for those beautiful dunes,” said Dylan. “I’m thankful that our local leaders understand the importance of maintaining the dunes and that they’ve enacted laws to ensure that the dunes will remain strong for years to come.”
When they reached the island's southern tip, Bob turned the boat west into Hereford Inlet and then entered the Intracoastal Waterway. This well-marked, navigable body of water provided a smooth and safe path of travel through the bay waters. Bob followed the floating buoys and markers directly back to Grandpa’s house at the northwestern tip of the island.
As the boat passed a green marker on its starboard side, Johnny turned to his brother and said, “It’s cool how the buoys are really just like traffic signals, but for boats!”
Noticing another larger boat approaching on the waterway, Wayne added, “Yeah, the buoys prevent collisions with other boats and help captains from running aground in the shallow bay waters.”
It was six o’clock when Bob pulled his boat into Dylan’s lagoon to drop the group off at the Masters’ bayside dock. Staring across the water, Bob remarked, “Hey, Dylan, it looks like you have some storm damage to your bulkhead. If you look on the other side of your lagoon, just beyond that large turtle, you can see the damage.”
They all looked over at the tall wooden retaining wall that separated the bay waters from Dylan’s property. Dylan acknowledged the appearance of a dislodged board and commented, “Hard to believe, but that’s the original bulkhead I installed back in 1945. It's funny how one storm made me build the bulkhead, and now another storm is making me repair it!
“Tomorrow, I’ll call a contractor and schedule someone to come out and estimate the cost of repairs.”
Bob responded that he had a good friend who owned a seawall business. He added, “I’m certain that he can repair or replace the damaged bulkhead section for a reasonable price.”
After Dylan got the contractor’s name and number, they all thanked Bob for the boat ride and then headed inside.
That evening, the family relaxed. Everyone expressed how they loved spending quality time together. The boys mentioned that they especially enjoyed the boat cruise. After a light dinner, the family sat on the back deck and watched the sunset. A short time later, the boys said good night and went upstairs to the bedroom that they shared.
An hour after going to bed, Wayne sat up in the darkened room and asked, “Hey, are you awake? I just had a cool dream.”
Johnny quickly responded, “Me too.”
Wayne described his dream. “It was amazing. A German Luftwaffe airplane from World War Two was attacking Grandpa’s house.”
Johnny spun toward his brother. “I just had the same dream! Wow, we sure were lucky that Grandpa, Dad, and Mr. Bloomfield protected us.”
Johnny and Wayne described a truly amazing tale of how the three men used the boys’ outdoor sporting collection of 1984 Olympic Games commemorative Frisbees to save the day.
The brothers had trouble controlling their laughter as they related how the men threw multiple Frisbees at the plane with uncanny speed and accuracy. Their fun tale came to a perfect climax when they agreed that every one of the discs miraculously struck their target, jamming the plane’s steering flaps just before it could shoot at the house!
The boys loved exaggerating and embellishing each other’s dreams. They always came up with “really cool” bedtime stories.
After several minutes of giggling and some excellent storytelling, the boys agreed that the disabled warplane was forced to retreat over the ocean and head back to Germany. Wayne then yawned and said, “Victory for the good guys!” Within seconds, both boys were sound asleep.
