Slow Boat

Unlike their cousins, the boobies, gannets seem shy around people. This is the closest we got.

First, our whereabouts: We're headed north to Manasquan, NJ. If all goes well, we'll go "outside" (into the open Atlantic!) on Sunday and cross to New York Harbor. Then Monday, we'll cruise up the Hudson to dock at the 79th St. Boat Basin.

But weather can change--and so can this plan!  Please check back for further updates.

Earlier this week we spent two days windbound in Atlantic City. Stuck our nose out Friday and bounced north up Barnegat Bay to dock in Forked River, NJ  (say "FORK-ed," two syllables, or they'll know you're from away).  One aid to navigation: The more-than-300-foot-tall venting stack of the Oyster Creek nuclear plant--and more on THAT tomorrow!

But today, just for fun, I want to talk about gannets. If you're NOT a birdwatcher, you're saying, "Uh, you mean the news service?" Naw, I mean the bird--the large, fast, and very interesting bird.  We've seen lots of them here on the Jersey Coast, and in contrast a lot of wildlife I've mentioned in this blog (manatees, wood storks) gannets are NOT on the endangered species list.  Hey, a good-news story!

Walk the plank, mateys!  (It's for a good cause)

From Oriental we pressed seaward on the wide Neuse River, then north up a narrow channel past the shrimp dock at Hobucken. Then, with brisk winds and a following sea, we made a run across the Pamlico River to the tiny town of Belhaven . . .  a welcome haven indeed after a day of jolting on the bounding main.

Back around Wrightsville Beach, we spotted an odd vessel--a boat with a conveyor belt bolted to one side. As the boat meandered just outside the channel, the conveyor belt rumbled, dropping what looked like large chunks of gravel into the water. What the heck?!

After some research, I finally figured out what that boat was doing.  It was a shellfish relay.

I know. The term suggests images of elementary school kids in track shoes, running back and forth with jumbo shrimp as batons.  But actually, a shellfish relay is one way states manage their oyster and clam harvests.

As far as I understand it, fisheries managers move oysters around for a couple of reasons.

Earlier this week, we stopped at Jekyll Island, famous for the mansions of millionaires and for bike trails that wend atmospherically beneath stately live oaks dripping enough Spanish moss to stuff a million mattresses. Besides checking out eco-attractions like the Shell Recycling Station and the Zero-Emissions Electric Cars, we also enjoyed a visit to the Georgia Sea Turtle Center.

A patient in the rehab center has a bizarre illness that makes him float TOO MUCH. Treatment includes attaching diver's weights to the shell so he can submerge

The place has a competent little exhibit hall where you can learn about the five different species of sea turtles you might see in this region by pressing buttons, watching films, lifting flaps, touching specimens.  In one tank, a young loggerhead turtle the size of the proverbial dinner plate zoomed about, giving the lie to the stereotype that turtles are slow-moving. With his giraffe-print, bright brown-and-white head and gleaming white belly, he looked as fresh and pretty as a child's plush toy.

The main work of the center is as a kind of turtle hospital, to care for sea turtles that are sick or injured. Most sea turtle populations can't really afford to lose a lot of individuals; six species are protected by the Endangered Species Act, three species are listed as critically endangered in the IUCN Red List, and all sea turtles are included in Appendix I of CITES.

About 50 miles back we started noticing signs at marinas:  "This is northern right whale habitat."  The signs included instructions how to avoid collisions with whales. We thought it would be extremely cool to see a whale, but we knew we couldn't expect that in the shallow waters of the Intracoastal Waterway; these signs are meant to educate boaters heading out to sea.

But we DID see a whale in St. Augustine on Thursday, sort of.  Headline news in the local paper:  "There's a whale on our beach."