[Journal Entry for May 8, 2011; Barnegat Bay] My friend Lee Reiser organized this day trip on Barnegat Bay, one of the southern New Jersey lagoons separated from the Atlantic Ocean by a series of spits and barrier islands, including Long Beach Island. There are five of us today, Lee, Bruce, Phil, Rich and myself, all in sea kayaks. I am using <i>Hraun</i> (Icelandic for lava), my old but reliable Wilderness Systems Sealution IIXS, a rugged plastic boat. We stayed the night on the mainland, and now cross over the bay via the long causeway of Route 35. We have to wait a few minutes on the drawbridge, for it opened to let a sailboat pass. I admired the view as we wait. The day is clear and the height of the bridge affords a great view of the blue water of the bay, which at this point is about two miles wide. . I sight what I think is a fox as we drive south through the Island Beach State Park. We use parking lot A-15 on, which has a public kayak launch. It is on the west side of the spit is at Johnny Allen’s Cove. The spit itself is about twenty miles long, and connects to the mainland way up north at Bay Head. The launch is a sandy ramp besides muddy parking lot on the bay, set among dune grasses and bushes. This vegetation is already leafed out. A little to the east of the ramp is a broad open area that I guess is the remnants of a seasonal pond. A large patch of purple sulfur bacteria is munching away at the substrate – decaying seaweed, I guess.

We kayak south along the salt marshes, into water that feels to be about 50 degrees Fahrenheit. (The USGS hydrographic station at Barnegat Light recorded a 50-58 degree range during the course of the day, with temperature tracking the tidal cycle). Shore birds such as gulls and terns are abundant , and we see an occasional snowy egret, glossy ibis, skimmer, barn swallows, sandpipers and swan, as well. Most amazingly, almost every osprey nesting platform that we pass is occupied by a nesting pair of ospreys. During the course of the day we see many, some sitting in perches, some flying bay with fish in their talons, and once, a group of four high in the sky that seemed to be fighting. Their shrill cries do not seem to match a bird of such a large size.

We work our way south, exploring the Sedge Islands, a group of salt marsh islands at the southern tip of the spit. We paddle down several side channels, some of which open up into substantial ponds before petering out. One leads to the ruins of an old wooden boat. We pass several other kayakers, as well as a man, Chris, on a stand-up paddleboard. Eventually, we reach Barnegat Inlet, which separates the spit form Long Beach Island and which connects Barnegat Bay to the Atlantic Ocean. We are surprised to find that the water is very calm in the inlet and that the boat traffic is very light. We cross over to the Long Beach Island side with ease, heading for the Barnegat Lighthouse, which towers over the northern tip of Long Beach Island. I pull into a tiny cove between two jetties, just a few yards west of the lighthouse and wait for the others to arrive. We then paddle past a marina, where several substantial boats, including the tugboat <i>Virginia</i> are tied up. Bruce, who lives on the bay, chats with the crew for a few minutes. We pull ashore at a little beach near a public boat ramp.

We walked north on Broadway, to a deli were we buy lunch. We then pick out a picnic table in Barnegat Lighthouse State Park, one that overlooked the inlet. We skip climbing the stairs to the top of the lighthouse this year; we did that last time we were here. After lunch, we walked the little nature trail that winds through the dunes. The bushes are blooming, and one variety is covered with pretty white flowers. The trail passed through a small stand of holly trees, protected from the sea by some of the larger dunes.

Barnegat Inlet is still calm and empty as we paddle back. The afternoon is sunny and warm and we maintained a slow steady pace, enjoying this first summery day of the year. We pass a few sand bars, populated by gulls and terns. The terns squawk at us en mass, showing us their displeasure at our approach. In places the water is very shallow, just a few inches deep, and I have to push the boat along with my hands. Phil finds himself in shallower water still, and has to get out and tow his boat. We meet a couple of other kayakers, including one guy in an Epic 16 from the Jersey Shore Sea Kayak Association. It is about 4PM when we reach the boat launch, so we have been on the water for about five hours.