Go ride the ferry

It has been a while since I sat down at the computer to share my thoughts. Some of you may think it has been too short of a hiatus, but too bad.
I got to thinking about the old classic ferry boats the other day. As a child I think my first ferry ride was the Chester Bridgeport Ferry that ran between Chester Pennsylvania and Bridgeport New Jersey. I think it was on this ferry that a sibling of mine discovered where the potty emptied if it was used during the ride. “Right into the ribber!” was the direct quote.
We are talking ages ago. I was in elementary school either in Camden or Stratford. It could not have been Atlantic City.
It amazes me for a father who easily became seasick and a mother who probably was due in to work at 11 PM, to treat four stair step children to the slow pace transport of the ferry.
Dad does not usually do water travel. It has something to do with inner ear and dizziness. But at last a memory of many was made. I do not know if this was the first ferry I rode, but it is the first I remember.
Years passed and so did the many ferry rides. I have always been fond of the Staten Island Ferry and enjoyed several years going to and from Manhattan. There were numerous trips to Governor’s Island too! I naively thought it was a free ferry ride from the city to Governor’s Island. I would gladly pay out the nose to revisit the site of many fortresses that protected the New York Harbor.
August was family vacations and thus more ferry boat rides. I remember taking the ferry form Maine to Deer Island, New Brunswick at least twice. The so called ferry was a barge guided by a retired fishing boat. After our arrival we raced around the island to the free ferry that delivered us onto the mainland of Canada. The boat was spotless and FREE! My parents were making more memories to store away for later.
We were camping on Cape Cod. It was cold and damp. The tent was soaked. I remember being wet and cold and not liking the color cranberry. The weather cleared and we took the boat to Nantucket, rode bicycles on the island, posed for a picture and returned to Atlantic City, without ice cream. (Mother will fill you in on the details.)
I remember going to Prince Edward Island, but I do not remember how we got there. The memory of Mackerel fried in buckwheat flour comes to mind. I think we camped.
The Cape May Lewes Ferry will always be a favorite. There is a lot of excitement parking the car at the ferry terminal and riding across to Lewes, Delaware. We ate in a restaurant in Rehoboth Beach and mother order turnip greens so we could experience some “Southern Food”.
The longest and most momentous ferry boat ride was from Cape Benton, Nova Scotia to Newfoundland. Dad had just bought a new ford country squire and we were off for our annual vacation. My sister and I were in high school and were innocent targets for the summer employees. We had the run of the ship. Nothing happened we just had fun. The potato soup was excellent. The purser paged our personal tour guides as we landed. The only thing I remember that is worthy of mentioning is the car broke down 1 block from the only ford dealership on the island. Angels were watching over us.
The most exotic ferry boat ride by exotic I mean foreign away from this continent Star Ferry in Hong Kong.

Since it is almost August I thought I would tell you about parental love for children and the wonderful life of riding a ferry boat.

Hay girl’s have we been on any other ferry then Staten Island Ferry?

The dog days of summer

The dog is in the basement and the thunder continues to roll overhead. Baby and Fitzwilliam are at large and apathetic. I must admit it is amusing to have a dog with limited talents. Okay let me give the dear old thing some credit. She is a great snake dog. She even has a special bark reserved for such intruders. Lacey is close to 15 human years old, has arthritis in her legs and is losing her sight in her right eye. She is as affectionate as a puppy and can never get enough loving. (Scratch my head please please please, ahh.) This sweet but challenged canine came to us from Kent’s Animal Hospital after we lost our blind cocker, Shadow. Lacey was abused and left for dead on the door step of the clinic. For several years we had to approach her from below her chin or using the underhand motion to pet her. Any action from above as in overhand and she shirked away. Her breed is unknown. Some say part Sheltie and part Austrian Shepherd. Her coat is soft, thick and full of Lanolin. It took her a while to accept affection and grooming. It was a trial acclimating her to being brushed. Rides in the care were met with whining and vomiting. Now we tell her to get into the car and she is ready to ride. This has been a blessing after a decade of car sickness. She seems stupid to some people, but I know she is as smart as a whip. As for predicting weather she is as good as James Spann. She does it on her own without the aid of NOAH weather radio or storm watchers. There is no need to doubt her predictions. She is dead on.
When a storm is in the area she will climb the chain link fence and start to dig herself, pardon the reference, a doggy fox hole. (She has to be on a leash or she will get disoriented. She will come in the house whining her weather alert and go to her personal place of safety. Sometimes she will go into the shower. She hates baths; it is personally degrading to her. When she goes into the shower we know we are in for a severe storm. So here’s to my canine buddy Lacey, keep up your diligent work. We are counting on you.