I love water. I respect water. I fear water. And I hate water. And I prefer those waters that are moving over those that standstill. Especially waters that not only move, like rivers, but are also tidal.
While we were over in Ireland, and after getting the news of flooding in our home due to a plumbing mishap, we learned about a building storm named, ironically enough, Hurricane Erin. We thought more how it could affect our commute back to the United States more then possible flooding in our house since she wasn't going to be a rain event but more of a storm/surge/moon/and tide event. Hey, we live on the Delaware River, 130 miles up from the Delaware Bay and Cape May, what could happen.
Hurricane Erin, a Category 2 storm, wrecked havoc along North Carolina as she made her way north along the East Coast, doubling in size, but losing strength and peeling off to the east. But for New Jersey, last nights high tide, coupled with the August's new moon, meant the highest of high's in tidal surges.
In 2020 we purchased our "Shore House" at Cape Island Resort. While I like to say I have a place in Cape May it actually sits just outside sandwiched between North Cape May and Wildwood Crest in a town named Lower Township. For those that's don't know on the bottom of New Jersey there's Cape May, a manmade island due to the construction of the Cape May Canal, and then Lower, Middle, and Upper Townships, moving south to north.
Since we've returned it's been non-stop work on the flood damaged spaces within our house. Where there was water there's damage but also the threat of moisture buildup, which could mean mildew and then mold. It's been a race against time and thankfully my brother, Ryan, did the hard lifting while we were away. Our house is 102 years old, built for the ages. If it were to get hit with a bomb it would burn out and not down. We have plaster walls, not plaster over wood lathe, but plaster over metal mesh. And back in the day these plasterers must have got paid by the pound, not for the rooms completed.
So I had to decide what to take down and what to leave up. Do I need to gut the rooms and pull all of the hardwood floors? I decided no. Those horse hair and plaster covered walls were solid. I removed the baseboards and ran a fan in each bay to ensure they were aired out. Unfortunately the floors had to be pulled up, one because they were buckling and two they could be hiding all sorts of nastiness underneath. In the end they were dry, but still needed to go. Rather then try and piece replacements in I pulled them from baseboard to baseboard but held off on pulling the hallway and beyond.
During a break in the action I took a look on Facebook Marketplace to fish around at the cost of replacing the hardwood floors. It looked like they came in around $5 a square foot for unfinished red oak 2-1/4 inch boards. So, 100 square feet would run me about $500.
Then I saw the above add. Extra and unused flooring which could be mine for the taking. I messaged the seller and it was as described. Although not actually sure of how much square footage was there it was four long bundles and a bunch of other shorter pieces. She had it listed for $160. When she told us she was in Sandyston, New Jersey, which is above Stokes State Forest, the price went to $140, and then to $100. So off Theresa and I were for a four-hour there and back with a savings of around $300. But let's get back to Hurricane Erin and the Jersey Shore.
Governor Murphy declared a State of Emergency along the Jersey Shore and Cape May County was put under a Coastal Flood Warning. I didn't think much of it until Theresa was talking our neighbor down in Cape May. "The tides really high, almost across the road", I heard her say as I drifted off to sleep. I thought alright that's good, but wait, we live across the street from her.
Our place sits right on the top of one of the branches of Little Mill Creek which runs off of Bennet Creek. If you follow it down you'd cross under the Garden State Parkway and hit the Cape May Harbor. On a good tide, like last night, you could do it in a kayak.
One of the things I've done that I'm proud of is building a patio down at our place. Just beyond the last row of blocks is the tiniest evidence that we are on the tidal waters. At times we have went down and seen that the water had crested just about to our coveted white rocks. But what was it looking like now at 1030 pm at the height of the storm, tide, and moon? My neighbor said our place looked fine. But then I asked, "Did you look at the patio?". Soon after we got a text and a photo.
I'm not worried about the water. I'm worried about how it will affect the patio. Will it recede and then shift the blocks and make it all uneven? Who knows. It is what it is. After we got the picture we received a reassuring text about the back of our yard.....
So there you go, my love-hate relationship with water. Hopefully as the tide ebbs it passes along the top of my patio like it did across my hardwood floors up here in Titusville. I don't have good history with houses and water. Remember when I purchased those two homes high above
the West Branch of the Ausable River in the Adirondacks? In 2011 Hurricane Irene came and parked herself above the Ausable Forks and the river, well, The River Ran Through Them, kinda sounds like that movie, you know the one, A River Runs Through It. That all pretty much knocked out my dreams of owning a piece, well two, of the ADK's. In 2013 I sold them both, the blue one for $6,500 and the green one for $21,000. I know, "You should have kept them", "They'd be worth a fortune". It is what it is and it was what it was at that time. You can't cry over spilt rivers.
It's all just more water under the bridge, and floors, and stairs. Some things never change.
