Welcome Aboard!

I was quite relieved when I made the ferry – and a bit amazed once again how it all was working out. Not once before the night before my last travel day did I even consider the Cape May-Lewes Ferry, and yet here I was driving onto the boat. As I drove on board, I felt a strong sense of satisfaction that soon I was going to be back in New Jersey with the Mustang – and a comedic irony that I was driving the car onto a boat. I wondered if Uncle Pete took the ferry when he drove the Mustang down to Florida from my Aunt Frances’ house in northern Jersey.

Safe in the Belly of the Boat

I started thinking about him as I pulled further into the belly of the boat. As I followed the instruction of the attendant on the Ferry, I wondered if Uncle Pete would be happy that I was bringing the car to my parent’s house for my Father, his baby brother, to see. The instructor guided me to within a foot of the car in front of me. I shut the engine down, and got out and walked to the back of the car. The Mustang was the last in line, and another attendant put a wheel chuck behind the trailer wheel to keep it from sliding back I guess.

People started to exit their cars and a number of them came over to the Mustang. The guy who scanned my ticket asked me if it was a 64 1/2. I told him it was a ’66 and he told me that he had a ’65 – I think he said it was a fastback. Then a gentleman named Ray from New Jersey came up. He complimented how good the condition of the car was.

I told him the story – My Uncle Pete was the original owner and the car has been sitting in his garage in Florida for more than a decade. I mentioned that he took good care of it with the help of his son.

“You know,” I added, “I think he’d really love all of the reaction this car has gotten from people during this trip.”

I showed him the interior and we walked around the back of the car.

“It’s really in good shape,” he said.

He then added that he had a doctor in Philadelphia that had a 64 1/2 convertible (pretty rare car!). It was gorgeous I would think, and I was shocked when he told me that they traded it in early in the ’90s for a Mercury Grand Marquis. Wow. If only they’d known.

He snapped a picture of the Mustang and I with his cell phone – my first pic with the car outside of Florida! I didn’t want to leave the car behind, but I did want to go upstairs. Before I did, I snapped one more pic from a distance:

DEEP in the Belly of the Boat LOL

I made my way up onto the deck, and relaxed. We were moving at a good clip, and then someone announced over the loudspeaker that there were dolphins playing along side the boat. I ran to take a picture – and I saw them, but they dove down before I could snap a pic. You’ll just have to believe me. I have never seen a dolphin in New Jersey waters before. This was collectively a trip of firsts – first time driving by myself from Florida, first time hauling a car, first time seeing my young cousins kids, first time on the CMLF…. On and on and on.

Delaware Disappears

The ride was nice. It was peaceful. I sat towards the front of the boat first and then made my way to the back of the boat to watch the last few days disappear beyond the horizon. I realized that as I looked back, how very special this trip had been and I was only a few short hours away from it ending.

I couldn’t help but think about how I loved this trip. I felt myself smiling as I thought about the reunion with my cousins – Lea and her daughters Emily and Mary, Nicky and her sons Nicholas and Nathan, Phil, his wife, his son Phillip Cosmo, and his newborn son, Peter – not to mention Doug and Mary.

The way it’s all worked out till now could be luck, but I believe I am blessed. There I was on a boat, just a few minutes away from being back on New Jersey soil and only an hour or so away from my Pop’s house. I couldn’t predict what my parents’ reaction was going to be when they saw the car, but I was going to find out soon….

New Jersey Appears

I was sorry I had to leave Phil’s house after only an hour, but I had to go if I was going to catch the earlier ferry – the ferry after the 2:45 was 4:30 or so. I was back on the road and moving along quickly. The GPS said that I would arrive at the CMLF by 2:14 pm – AWESOME. Right on schedule. halfway to Maryland I think, I realized I needed gas AGAIN. This damn UHAUL completely sucked – figuratively time and cash-wise as well as literally gas-wise.

Between that stop and a few slow drivers through Maryland, my arrival time was bleeding later towards 2:30. JEEZ folks drive slow here – and there were dozens of traffic lights. I was speaking to a friend on the phone to keep calm, and he suggested that I call the CMLF to reserve a spot on the ferry. I did, and the gentleman who took my reservation said that 2:30 should be fine.

Then I got to the smallest, one-light town I’ve ever seen. It had one two-lane road going through it, the speed limit was 15 mph and I was tempted to ignore that by speeding through this sleepy old town when the thought of spending the night in an East Bumblefuk jail slowed me down.

“I’ll get there,” I thought, and I meandered through the winding streets.

What town was this?? The buildings looked old as dirt, the post office was falling apart and I was driving so slow I could see the peeling paint falling from the building – and then it happened.

As I was approaching an intersection and I saw a Honda CRV stopped there. I was already risking it by driving 20 mph in a 15 zone, but I knew what was coming next and I sped up a bit. I was too late. The car pulled out in front of me which forced me to nearly a complete stop. To make matters worse, the person proceeded to drive 10 mph through the rest of this sleepy town. The speed limit was 15, “is this really happening?” I asked myself.

I glanced at the ETA on the GPS – 2:27 – CRAP.

“We’ll get on the highway and they’ll speed up,” I hoped, “PLEASE, speed up…”

We got to the highway after we moseyed through town, and they never did over 45 in a 55 mph zone.

“OK, no problem,” I tried to self assure myself, “they’ll turn off soon,” and when she didn’t I said, “No problem, the lanes will double up and I will pass them then,” and 10 miles later the GPS ETA read 2:38, I started looking for a place to haul ass by her with my tank pulling a howitzer.

No dice – every time I thought I could, a car came the other way or the passing lane just wasn’t long enough for my taste. I started to plan for the possibility that I wasn’t going to make the 2:45 ferry, and called my Dad. Then the car pulled to the side of the road to turn and I saw the woman driving – she looked like she was 100 years old. I felt bad for all of the evil thoughts I had about her for the last half hour as I was trapped behind her – but then I had to get down to business. I still had a chance, right?

In the back of my mind, I kept thinking that things have gone right till now – I am gonna make this ferry.

But then it was 2:15 real time and the ETA was 2:45, “So close,” I was thinking, “Maybe the ferry will leave late.”

No way – and I surrendered. I told Dad that I wouldn’t be to his house until two hours later, “I could have driven around to I-95,” I thought, but then I thought how cool it was gonna be to go on the Ferry. I thought about the Mustang on the boat and smiled.

I continued to talk to my Dad and was about to tell him how I got emotional with Phil, and I saw a big sign for the ferry. It was 2:27 and the ETA was 2:45, but the entrance to the ferry was staring at me.

“It’s meant to be!” I thought – “Again, it’s all working out!”

“Pop – I gotta go, I will talk to you in a bit,” I said quickly as I approached the ferry, “I can’t believe I am going to make it!!”

I hung up with my Dad and drove up to an empty toll booth. The woman there greeted me with a smile.

“Did I make it?” I asked.

“You made it,” she grinned.

Her name was Norma. I gave her my card and started explaining that I didn’t think I had a chance to make it on time. I told her I had a reservation and that I was pulling my Uncle’s Mustang. She asked me about it and when I explained what I was doing, she said, “My husband would love that story.”

“Visit myunclesmustang.com,” I said.

“Wait, what was that?” she asked.

“I am documenting the whole journey and restoration on a blog – www.myunclesmustang.com.”

“Let me write this down,” she fumbled for some paper and a pen, “my husband loves this kind of thing.”

We completed the transaction, “Thanks,” I said, “Nice talking with you!”

“And you too, sir,” she grinned, “Lane 9 please.”

The Mustang in lane 9 waiting to get on the Ferry!

I caught the ferry. I still can’t believe it. Was I catching destiny? I’m not gonna go that far, yet, but one thing I know – everything fell right into place, again.

To be continued…

Yesterday the Mustang and I crossed the New Jersey state line on a boat somewhere in the middle of the Delaware Bay. I love traveling by boat, and I often dream about cruises, small boats, jetskis…. Admittedly, I have been known to get sea sick a bit sometimes, but it hasn’t diminished my love for traveling by sea, and when I was mapping how long it would take to drive from my cousin Philly’s (Phil’s) house in Virginia Beach, VA to my Mom and Dad’s house in Little Egg Harbor, NJ, I wasn’t even thinking about taking Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel let alone the Cape May-Lewes Ferry. Actually, I didn’t think I could do either with the trailer.

I was wrong, it turns out. After seeing how much longer it would take to get home via backtracking to I-95 versus the CBBT and CMLF, I checked into taking the ferry. The bridge was easy – I checked online for restrictions and I was fine. I called the boat next, and found out that they based their pricing on length of the vehicle. Pricing is available online, and since I didn’t have a tape measure, I walked the yards out next to the truck and trailer and “guesstimated” it to be about 40 feet long. Cool! Well, not so cool given the price, but it was going to be worth it to save about 2 hours of travel time (no brainer) AND I was going to be traveling on a boat for about an hour – an added benefit.

The problem was I was going to have to make it by 2:15 or so for a 2:45 departure. That meant I had little time to spend with Phil. We had planned to have some coffee together and catch up on stuff, but that wasn’t gonna work. To have at least some quality time, I got up early the following morning and out on the road. If I wanted time to talk to Philly at least a little bit, I needed to hoof it – no stopping for breakfast, no stopping for coffee, gas – I couldn’t even argue for a partial refund for the stinky hotel room at the Comfort Inn I stayed at. I asked, but the desk clerk gave me a meek “no” and I reluctantly retreated without argument.

I was on the road again and speeding down route 58 towards Virginia Beach.

I made it to Philly’s in a bit more than an hour, right on schedule – he and I discussed me being there around 10 am. That would give me an hour to hang out – but Phil wasn’t there. I met his wife for the first time along with their newborn son Peter (after my Uncle) and she invited me in. Phil showed up after a few minutes. Another great moment in my travels – seeing my younger cousin and his family. He looks just like his Dad.

He really wanted to see the Mustang and as we walked over to it he gave me a big smile and said “You know how much I wanted this car?”

“I think we all did,” I agreed.

He opened the driver’s door “All of the soccer practices that Grandpa drove me to in this thing,” he recalled. The smile on his face spoke volumes. Phil grabbed his camera and started snapping quickly. We put his son Cosmo in the driver’s seat and he looked like a natural.

Phil's son Philip Cosmo - Uncle Pete's Great Grandson

“You gonna keep it the way it is?” he asked.

“All original, Phil. I’ll need to replace stuff – but I want it looking like it did when Uncle Pete, your Grandpa, drove it out of the dealer lot.”

He smiled and nodded his approval, “Well I am glad this isn’t ending up in the hands of someone who wants to make it a hot rod or something like that.”

“No way,” I said, “All original.”

I mentioned I might put Ford factory magnum wheels on it but I’d keep the original wheels and caps.

“This is a Sunday driving car,” he asserted, “Just a cruising car.”

I couldn’t agree more.

At one point we had a moment alone next to the car. We were talking about Uncle Pete and the car and I started to explain how I felt about it all, and I got emotional for the very first time on this whole trip.

“After all that my wife and I have been through over the past few years,” I explained, “No real joy, no easy going of it,” and I felt eyes moistening, “I was looking for something, anything pull me up, and it’s like Uncle Pete, your Grandpa is helping me – rescuing me, even.” My words sounded cheap. I couldn’t explain what this meant to me and how strongly I felt that it was truly him guiding me – helping me along the way.

I held back bawling like a baby, but I felt protected; safe with Phil – and safe with the emotion. All of this felt right. I apologized for getting emotional.

“No problem, I would think something was wrong if you didn’t.”

He snapped a few more pics and then asked his wife, Christy, to take a picture of he and I next to the car. Phil – send me the pic, PLEASE!! He gave me a tour of the house (awesome!) and after some more conversation about the reunion plans, I had to go. The hour went by fast – too fast – and I regretted not being able to spend more time with him and his family.

We’ll get together again, soon, I hope. One of the things that I discovered is that most of the cousins (if not all) share my desire to get the family together. Phil took it a step further recently and started putting some real thought into organizing a family reunion. Maybe the car will be done by then? Something to shoot for….

To be continued….