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Updated: June 11, 2025
As she sat looking out to sea, Max's brain still at work on the problem of her unusual mood, a schooner shifted her mainsail in the light breeze and set her course for the inlet. "That's the regular weekly packet," Max ventured. "She's making for Farguson's ship-yard. She runs between Amboy and Barnegat Captain Ambrose Farguson sails her." At times like these any topic was good enough to begin on.
Several miles of low barren marshes and sands gray with poverty-grass on the north separate it from Manasquan Inlet and the pine woods and scattered farm-houses which lie along its shore, while half a mile below, on the south, is the head of Barnegat Bay, a deep, narrow estuary which runs into and along the Jersey coast for more than half its extent, leaving outside a strip of sandy beach, never more than a mile wide.
He entered the kitchen and tossed the hat into a corner. "Well!" he exclaimed. "Why don't you act surprised to see a feller? Here I've been cruisin' from the Horn to Barnegat and back again, and you act as if I'd just dropped in to fetch the cup of molasses I borrowed yesterday. What do you mean by it?" "Oh, I heard you'd made port." "Did, hey? That's Trumet, sure pop. You ain't the only one.
The idea of the life-saving service originated with a distinguished citizen of New Jersey, a State whose sandy coast has been the scene of hundreds of fatal shipwrecks. In the summer of 1839 William A. Newell, a young citizen of that State, destined later to be its Governor, stood on the beach near Barnegat in a raging tempest, and watched the Austrian brig "Count Perasto" drift onto the shoals.
Here were twisted iron rods, fish-baskets, broken lobster-pots, rotting seines and tangled, useless nets some used as coverings for coops of restless chickens old worn-out rope, tangled rigging everything that a fisherman who had spent his life on Barnegat beach could pull from the surf or find stranded on the sand.
She had evaded his meaning, making answer that his pleasure, was nothing compared to her own when she thought how safe the baby would be in his hands; adding quickly that she could never thank him enough for remaining in Barnegat and not leaving her helpless and without a "physician." The tone with which she pronounced the word had hurt him.
There was no comfort for me in my magnificent library. We were all rich and in splendor, and our uncle had come from India. I wished, saving his soul, that the ship that brought him over had foundered off Barnegat Light. It would always have been a tender and regretful memory to both of us. And how sacred is the memory of such a loss! Christmas?
John Cavendish, of Barnegat, to conclude that he had changed in any way for the better. And yet this young gentleman could never have been accused of burning his candle at both ends. He had no flagrant vices really none whose posters were pasted on the victim's face.
It was one of the Shattucks: he says, 'There's a ship come ashore up by Barnegat' I says, 'No, I says: 'the guns are from off the inlet. So I runs one way, and Shattuck the other. The night was dark as pitch, and the storm drivin' like hell.
In the meantime the "Columbia's" captain had communicated the welcome intelligence that we were to cruise to the southward at once to look for several suspicious vessels that had been sighted in the vicinity of Barnegat. This promised action so strongly that a cheer went up from the crew. This time even the officers joined in.
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