One of the nice things about a beach that's located in a federal park is that you can crack open a beer with no fear. It's completely legit. That's one reason to swim at Fort Tilden rather than Jacob Riis in the Rockaways! But for this trip, we went the distance, all the way out to Fire Island National Seashore.
|Beach cat wagon?|
|Got a seagull problem? Start cartin' in the cats.|
You can't get to this part of Fire Island by car. You have to take a boat. And that means bringing provisions, like cats, from the ferry to your beach bungalow in a cart. At the Davis Park area, there are about 100 bungalows, most quite nice and spacious. Further east at Watch Hill, where we end up, there are no commercial buildings, motels, residences or anything, really -- just sand and sea. There's a small convenience store and snack shop/bar where the ferry docks, a changing station, and some camping spots. But that's it.
|Cool old telephone pole on Davis' "main street".|
We brought four beers with us: Blue Point Summer Ale, Brooklyn Summer Ale, Stevens Point Nude Beach and Harpoon Summer Beer, which we saved for the ferry ride back to Patchogue, where the LIRR train station is.
It was an amazing day! We spent about four hours swimming, sunning and suddsing! The water was extremely warm for this time of year, and about as clear as we've ever seen it in the North Atlantic. We even got visited by a small school of juvenile banded rudderfish, who hung out with us in the shallow water, swimming between our legs, and up to our faces when we dove under the waves!
|Beer at the beach!!!|
A few people stopped and photographed the "art"! Though some, we believe, thought that it was an advertisement, and that we we're selling beer. It clearly amused and confused.
We saved a can of Harpoon Summer Beer for the 30 minute ferry ride home. Three gals across from us on the ferry had brought their cocktails from the harbor bar on board, but most of the other passengers didn't think to have a nice return trip tipple, and they looked a bit jealous.
Once the ferry docked, we thought that rather than run to catch the next LIRR train back to the city, we'd drop by Harbor Crab, next to the ferry station. We sat by the window in the casual backroom bar overlooking the water, watching the geese float about while a white egret-kind-of-bird picked off small fish swarming in the warm shallow tidal river beneath us.
While the birds were feasting below, we enjoyed pints of Great South Bay (Bayshore, L.I.) Blonde Ambition and Blue Point Summer Ale, along with some raw clams and oysters, and some Italian calamari, which had marinara sauce and ricotta cheese -- very tasty. Then, inevitably, it was the long, sleepy train ride back to the busy city, far from the desolate sand and soothing waves... for now.
|It started off simple, making a message in the sand with stones.|
|Then it got more involved.|
|And even more involved.|
|And then we lost control.|
|This is a mosaic of a beer mug... if you couldn't figure that out.|
|What other beer could you possibly drink on this beach towel?|
|Waiting for the ferry back to the main (is)land.|
|That's right -- we brought beer on this cruise!|
|Well, they've at least got Blue Point and Great South Bay.|
|Geese goosing around.|