Old Barney

Yesterday Donna and I drove to Barnegat Lighthouse, the iconic landmark on Long Beach Island known as Old Barney.  Painted red on the top half and white on the bottom half, you can see the 163-foot tall structure from miles away on LBI Boulevard as you head north.

On a cool, cloudless, Chamber of Commerce day that felt more like October than May, we entered Barnegat Lighthouse State Park, expecting it to be nearly empty.  Instead, a few dozen cars dotted the parking lot—unusual for pre-Memorial Day. 

As we parked and strolled into the park, we could see that the cars must have belonged to the guardians of a cavalry of field tripping elementary-school kids who were collecting seashells and other specimens from the park’s expansive beach.  The army of schoolchildren, buzzing like the cicadas that will be emerging in a couple weeks from their 17-year underground sentences, were finished stripping the beach and were heading for the lighthouse.

We decided to beat them to the punch and mount the 217 steps to the top before they alit. We hadn't been to the top since our kids were small.  The views were spectacular, the ocean, as Donna said, Caribbean-esque.

The Dutch Barendegat means 'Inlet of the Breakers.'  The name aptly describes the inlet in the days before long jetties were built to ease ingress and egress between the protected bay side of the island and the ocean. 

According to Of Tide and Time: A Narrative History of LBI (www.lbi.net): “Hundreds of ships were stranded on Barnegat Shoals throughout the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Wind and crashing waves would tear vessels apart, and freezing temperatures would prevent survivors from reaching shore before succumbing to the cold.”

To the tumult of the inlet I can attest.  Many years ago, before the current jetties were built, my future brother-in-law invited me for a boat ride from the marina in Harvey Cedars through the Barnegat Light inlet to the ocean.  It was a calm, sunny day, but the 24-foot Sea-Ray was thrown from one side of the inlet to the other, within feet of the rocks, and tossed up and down like a play toy.  Larry’s expert seamanship got us through, out- and in-bound, no worse for wear.  The sensation was how I imagine it would have been like to be riding the roller coaster at Seaside Heights as Hurricane Sandy ripped it from its foundation and lobbed it into the ocean.  I will note that, in my effort to impress my fiancé’s family, I managed to not throw up.

A 40-foot tall lighthouse tower was constructed at Barnegat in 1835 to mark the inlet.  However, its weak light and short stature proved inadequate.

Going back to Of Tide and Time: “In August of 1839, a brutal storm forced the Austrian brig, Count Perasto, to hit ground about 300 yards from shore at Long Beach Island. There was no way at the time to reach the stranded passengers and crew, so all were lost” as onlookers stood helplessly on the shore.

Lt. George Meade was selected in 1855 to design a replacement for the old lighthouse at Barnegat.  The new lighthouse was commissioned in 1859.  Meade later served as a general in the Union army during the Civil War, and led the Union victory at Gettysburg.  Incidentally, it is for him that Fort Meade, the Maryland army post that also serves as the headquarters of the National Security Agency, is named.