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August 3, 2002
Sittin on the dock of the bay Dolfin Docks humor catchingBy G. PATRICK PAWLING For The Press, (609) 272-7210Let me tell you about a good local place for fresh fish. The ambiance is Classic South Jersey Marsh. The entrees are so fresh, they're still alive. Outside, a handpainted sign says, "South Jersey's Best-Kept Secret," which is close to right. Once you get past the dog in the driveway, the place reveals itself to be a smiling, rundown, get-a-cup-of-coffee-if-you-want-to establishment where you pick your own - that's fish, not strawberries. Welcome to Rob's World, otherwise known as Dolfin Dock, a Somers Point bait shop and marina that'll give you a fishing boat, a smile, some gear and a little time for yourself or your family for a lot less than what some people spend in Atlantic City. The Rob in question is Rob Barrett, 48, a Somers Point native. His partner is his wife, Joan. Together they run a place locals cherish, visitors discover and time overlooks. Inside, you'll find everything from snap swivels to a shark's jaw. Outside, the pier leans more ways than the drunks on Bay Avenue. Truth is, the Dolfin Dock is like the old hometown hardware store, the one where you could walk in and say, "You know, I need one of those thingamajigs and I'm not sure what they're called but you screw it into the ...." And the clerk would actually listen (and sometimes not roll his eyes), then go down a long, crowded aisle filled with unidentifiably cool things and stick his hand into a big bin and say, "You mean one of these?" You can get plenty of bait at the Dolfin - shedder crab, minnows, bloodworms, etc. - but one of the things that sets this place apart from other similar operations (and there are other good ones in the area) is Barrett's act. According to his Joan, when Rob's set to walk out from their house in back to open the shop, he's been known to say to himself, coffee in hand, "It's showtime." Every customer becomes part of the act. Not that it's standup comedy. It's more like the affable conversation friends have, kidding each other, always with fun in mind. It might be what the customer is wearing, or catching or not catching. Barrett has something for everybody - a comment, a laugh, an encouraging word. Friendly is easier to find at the Dolfin Dock than the 7/0 hook on the bill of Barrett's hat. He laughs. Soon, everybody's laughing. "How you doing, Admiral?" he greets one fisherman. "Good to see you, man. Me? Slaving away. I think I'm the only guy who works in the morning." As another fisherman shoves off: "OK, Cap'n Bill, keep it down the middle." To a teenager who's scanning some of the hundreds of Polaroid pictures scattered on the store's walls and ceiling, each showing a big fish held by a person with a bigger smile: "That could be you! I've got plenty of film. I'll take your picture and make you famous." This prompts a guy renting a boat to say, "Where can I get some of that coffee you're drinking? Whatever you're on, I want it." "It's the Colombian stuff," Barrett replies. "I think half the time, the locals walk in just to see what he's going to say to people," Joan says. Seems like he has the locals hooked. "This is a place where fishermen hang out," says Jesse Denton, a retired high school guidance counselor. "He's one of the happiest people I know." "This is the only original family business left. Every other place went high-falutin' or high tech," grouses Al Bowen of Somers Point. Whoops, it's past 6:30 a.m. Time for Barrett to disappear into the back for a few moments to wake his 16-year-old son, Ryan - a surfer who works as a dock boy during the summer, getting boats ready for customers and cleaning them (the boats, that is; the customers have to clean themselves). Daughter Kassie, 10, also helps around the store. After he comes back out, Rob says, "I said to Ryan, 'This is your worst nightmare.' Hey, I was the same way when I was 16." In fact, that's just about the age Rob was when his parents bought the place, then known as Leyland's Pier. His parents put him and his two brothers right to work. He took to it slowly, which is to say he hated it. "My dad paid me in baloney sandwiches," Rob claims. He escaped to Florida for college, "as far away as I could get from this place." Now? Now is different, as it usually turns out to be. Now, he loves the bayside sunrise and living on the water, even if it is the "bar" section of Somers Point. The business is so close to the action that it made a brief appearance in the "Eddie and the Cruisers" movie. Now, he could probably sell the land or the business for a lot of money and ... well, what? "I'd hate to see it go," Rob says. "The kids - they live on the bay. They wake up on the bay with the sunrise. They both love the water." So he and Joan keep working. They work a lot. They open at 6 a.m. or before, and close at 6 p.m. They do most of the counter work themselves. They rarely take a day off in the summer, and they're open every day of the week that a fisherman thinks the fish might bite. Then they take a nice chunk of the winter off, with a couple of vacations to Florida. "I work for the winters off," Barrett says. "Never had a summer off." Yes, he fishes. He goes after stripers in October and November, when he has more time, and loves fishing for yellowtail snapper in the Florida Keys. But he doesn't seem to mind it too much at the store, either. The biggest decision at the Barrett house when it's time for dinner is weather to broil or blacken. So um, Rob, could I get a pint of those blond, blue-eyed minnows you keep talking about? The ones the fish can't resist? This is On The Water - a summertime column about the bays, ocean, rivers and lakes of southern New Jersey and the people who enjoy them. To reach Pat Pawling, call (609) 398-6593 or e-mail: onthewater@pawling.net Correction In last week's column about pro surfer Frank Walsh, I misspelled the name of his main sponsor. It's Quiksilver. |
