SCHELLENGER’S LANDING — Very few people have an eye quick enough to spot the hidden green neighborhood on the far side of Schellenger’s Landing. The tiny island that serves as a nautical threshold to the island of Cape May goes by too quickly to allow anything but a cursory glance at the marinas and the restaurants.
The landmarks draw the eye, as does the snarl of traffic on a busy holiday weekend in the summer. While passengers might marvel at the forest of masts and gleaming yachts lined up like ponies at the track, they’d have to have keen eyesight indeed to spot the trees surrounding 1101 Wissahickon Ave., just on the northwestern tip of the islet.
Anyone who’s made the U-turn past Utsch’s Marina, however, has at least seen the neighbors of this mysterious home: a collection of the kind of low-roofed bungalows prized by those who grew up here, and almost immediately torn down by newcomers.
If passers-by allowed curiosity to take the wheel and turned up Fourth Street to the narrow road that lines the western coast of the island, they were very close.
The older, seemingly wilder spot is mostly parking lots and sprightly fisherman’s “shacks,” and looks like a corner that time forgot: crushed clam shell lots surrounded by verdant green, with piercing blue water from Spicer’s Creek peeking through.
How many would be brave enough to head north on Wissahickon without an invitation? It’s this very fact that keeps one of the most centrally located neighborhoods on the cape completely unbothered by tourist traffic … at least by land.
To reach the home, one must venture a bit farther up the avenue to a tiny hamlet of houses. Most of them can be reached by the access road that loops under the bridge to the peninsula, that U-turn that winds past Utsch’s.
But not this home, which demands space and privacy and gets both, plus an unbelievably great view of the canal just as it passes under the Cape May bridge.
The avenue becomes a private drive that leads to a quaint “farmhouse,” as simple as can be. This appearance is as much a part of the quest for quiet and calm as every other attribute of this place, and the house inside is worth the trouble of finding it.
The two-story main house was built in 1940, and clearly built by the kind of craftsmen that worked on boats just a few blocks away. A low addition leads to another piece, this one 1.5 stories tall.
The tallest part of the home has two levels of porches. The lower level is screened-in, as life this close to the water necessitates, and all plans to dine outside uninterrupted by hungry wading birds demands that barrier. Birds, big and small, migratory and humble wharf-dwellers alike, will be a constant feature of life here, regardless.
The water here isn’t filtered through meadow grass; this is a working waterway connecting Cape May Harbor to Delaware Bay. Although it’s not quite as busy as the entrance from the Atlantic Ocean, its peaceful glass finish is punctuated just often enough.
Sailboats with slightly smaller masts to fit under the bridges, and boats from the southern reaches of Spicer’s Creek, including the whale watchers and all the elegant small craft from Roseman’s and the private boat slips along the way, join the main waterway right here.
The water gently rolls right up to the sloping shoreline along two sides of this 100-foot by 100-foot lot. There is even a little beach, offering a perfect spot to launch a kayak and see all the sights of Cape May the way they were meant to be seen: by water.
Inside, the words “dream house” barely begin to cover it — hardwood floors, exposed beams, every inch testifying to the craftsmanship that was once the area’s lifeblood.
The kitchen is stunning, with cabinetry that looks like furniture, quartz counters and stainless steel appliances. The exposed beams of the ceiling allow in light from the skylight.
This location, in that low wing between the two taller portions of the house, makes the kitchen central to all the action. A window looks out over the drive, the skylight catches the light from the south so even winter mornings have some glow, and a small interior window over the kitchen sink looks back into the living room of the “main” part of the house.
The living room is charming, with even more old wood, exposed beams and a wood-burning stove in the corner. More than any other detail, this stove announces that the people who built this place were old-school sea salts — although there is modern central air conditioning in this home, carefully hidden among and above the beams.
The living room’s picture window looks out over the canal, and the staircase opposite leads up to the primary bedroom.
This room has a beautiful wood-paneled cathedral ceiling and a private deck. A short loft covers the cedar-lined closet and the roomy ensuite bath. The private deck is a perfect shady spot, given privacy by a feathery mimosa tree, and looking over the secret resort in the backyard.
The kitchen leads back to the final wing, where a ground-floor bedroom, bathroom and laundry room await. Everything matches the kitchen, with the same palate of rich natural wood, light beige and cream walls and blue on the ceilings beyond the beams.
Whoever built this home wanted quiet, and what better way to guarantee peace than to keep it exclusive?: two bedrooms, two baths, no way hordes of relatives can claim a guest room for a budget summer stay.
The main-floor bedroom has sliding glass doors leading straight out to the shore, the garden and the swimming pool.
A rather large pool, installed or updated very recently by the appearance, fills the space between the house and civilization. Surrounded by a light paving stone patio, and safely fenced-in, this bright blue lap pool reaches a depth of only 3.5 feet, but that’s perfect to get some calming exercise without dodging boats or turtles in the busy, natural water 50 feet away.
A small, clover-shaped hot tub adds some winter interest, and the huge space surrounding the pool offers room to dine and entertain.
Around the fence is the best part of the whole property: the beautiful grounds, with mature trees and plenty of little vantage spots to look out onto the creek and the canal. This is a magical place, unlike anything else on the island, and rare enough to stand out on the entire coast.
It’s easy to forget that hotspots such as Lucky Bones and the Lobster House are actually within walking distance — not a long walk, either — and this secluded paradise is waiting for exactly the right person to treasure it. Even the envious would admit it would be a real shame to see 300 condos go up where there used to be just one perfect place; a place that still looks like the Cape May locals remember.
