WEST CAPE MAY — The home at 110 Pacific Ave. is more evidence that West Cape May has held on to so many of the little secret charms that define a place.
It’s been the nature of things that most towns try to shed those very attributes: where once there was a charming oddity or the vestige of something very old, there is a tendency to smooth it all out and aim for uniformity.
The borough proves how much of a mistake that is in many ways, and one of the most endearingly off-kilter places in this cozy village is Goldbeaten Alley, snuggled between Second and Third avenues just west of Broadway.
Yes, even on the main drag, the blink-and-you’ve-missed-it Bat Cave Entrance to the western edge of the island is so small that it seems to scare off the uninitiated. This is the place to let the kids practice on their bikes or take an early evening stroll surrounded by birdsong and the glow of sunset (hence the name).
Where Goldbeaten Alley meets Pacific Avenue seems like a particularly blessed spot. The corner lot there is spacious, with more than 7,000 square feet of room, dotted with trees and reached by a circular gravel drive that offers additional parking for party guests and access to the single garage underneath a home of weathered wood.
Built in 1991, the home exemplifies everything the cool kids were trying to normalize on the cape at the time: no more gingerbread, no more chocolate box architecture. Let’s start making homes that drift through the landscape, letting form follow function. (And then let’s definitely stain the wood cladding in shades of the sea, sand or sky.)
The purists resisted, but as more and more farmland in West Cape was converted to walkable housing for young families or retirees looking for a miraculous marriage of small town and beach vibes, it proved too late to stop the trend.
And so the little cluster of modern homesteads became part of the fabric of the borough. Luckily, as they aged, they began to grow into themselves and the landscape in a way that was surprisingly attractive.
The two-story home is a great example: time has softened what seemed like raw edges in 1991, and trees have grown all around it — sometimes twisting around it.
Most importantly, we now have eyes to appreciate what seemed like science fiction back then, and the fact that the main floor is perched high above Pacific Avenue, Goldbeaten Alley and the flood plain seems now like gold standard good planning.
But while the outside has an agreeable patina, like driftwood that grew into a little nest above the waterline, the inside of this home is glowing, spruce and fresh.
Such care has been taken to maintain the original design elements (and there are so many of them present in this home) that it almost feels like time travel to see what was once new looking new again.
A tall staircase leads up from the driveway before doubling back, leading to a front porch entrance that hangs like a deck over the garage.
The house sits on piling and space has been created between them: covered in pale gravel like a zen garden, it could be a patio on a rainy day, bike storage or just the path to the double outdoor showers around the side.
Angled windows top a wall of light at the entryway, and when the door opens a bright vestibule leads to an immense heart inside.
It’s not exactly the “great room” of recent architecture. It meanders around a bit, but each area has some unique arrangement that riffs on the theme.
Tall, skylit ceilings swoop over the living room, and the angular bar surrounding the kitchen looks like an almost hexagonal spaceship married a diner and this is their surprisingly reasonable offspring.
The kitchen is spacious and bright and three sides of it are bordered by counter seating, low enough to have a conversation even though the upper cabinets are just overhead. The dining area fits in a more intimate alcove that opens to a private deck just glancing at the front entrance.
Three bedrooms are tucked into the corner pockets that remain; the floor plan keeps things mysterious, so to speak: no one walking in for the first time could guess everything there is to be seen.
The primary bedroom is large and simple: white walls, wood floors, corner windows that open to the quietest side of the island. The ensuite bath is much the same, but with more storage space than one typically sees in bathrooms, and more counter space at the vanity. Someone here won the argument for a spa-like experience years before the bathroom-as-spa era began.
The other two bedrooms are big and bright, as is the bathroom they share: every design feature is uniform throughout the home’s 1,951 square feet, and all were chosen to be as simple as possible.
For all that, this is no sterile or minimal living space, but calm seems to be the priority. Even the utility and laundry room was treated with the same respect for simplicity, and the back staircase is dressed in light wood that has only mellowed with time in the best way.
There’s one standout space in all that calm white: a sunroom just off the main room, clad in blue-gray wood panels and filled with art. This is a guest room or, with the wooden shutters opened on the wall of windows, a fabulous artist’s studio or office.
The visual appeal of these rooms almost prevents one from noticing a dumbwaiter to carry items up from the garage; the way the kitchen operates like the command center with little ways to view the door, the dining area and the living room; and all the finishing touches in wood throughout.
That’s normal: when buying a house in West Cape May, it takes five years to notice anything other than the fabulous location. This house guarantees all the surprises after that will be calm and comfortable.
The home, which always has been a family home, is being sold furnished.
By VICTORIA RECTOR/Star and Wave
