ISLAND LIVING, JERSEY STYLE, A rare existence that's precarious and private ...

Gerry Boswell came to island life by birth. Jennifer Yawkey came by marriage. Anthony Dellechiaie bought his way in. They are members of the most rarefied community at the Jersey Shore, where thousands of people own mansions, but only about 60 have their own islands.

Even that number is deceiving, since 57 homeowners share the same 38-acre island off Rumson. Along the rest of the state's 127-mile Atlantic coast, environmentalists say there is only a handful of inhabited private islands left in the state's saltwater bays and estuaries. "It is a special way of life that is disappearing, along with the state's tidewater islands," said Barnegat Bay conservationist William DeCamp. "Unlike the (freshwater) lakes, where islands are made of rock, these tidal islands are really sandbars designed by nature to ebb and flow.

"Saltwater private island living in New Jersey is just about a thing of the past." While it lasts, however, island living may be the final refuge for people seeking privacy at the most heavily populated beachfront in America. It's a magical existence, but it has a price. Robinson Crusoe charm fades fast when you're hauling your own garbage back to shore, or schlepping groceries by boat.

Island living, its practitioners say, requires a tolerance for inconvenience and an unwavering vigilance against deep-pocket developers hungry to pave paradise and put up condos and a parking lot. "We always kept our eyes open for people who wanted to take our island away from us," said Boswell, 62, who has been coming to Barley Point Island in Rumson since infancy. "The only way we can stay simple is by design."

There are a few private islands left in South Jersey, environmentalists say, and only two north of Brigantine: Barley Point at the mouth of the Navesink River

There are a few private islands left in South Jersey, environmentalists say, and only two north of Brigantine: Barley Point at the mouth of the Navesink River and Middle Sedge Island in Barnegat Bay just off Chadwick Beach. They represent polar extremes of New Jersey island living.

Settled nearly a century ago by working guys from Hudson County who loved fishing, Barley Point is a carefully planned postcard for Shore living as it used to be. The houses are small, with quirky grace. Water comes from a central well. There are two small bridges between the mainland and the island, but once cars cross over they can go no farther. No one really knows what the cottages are worth, because they rarely go on the market, but are passed down from generation to generation.

ONE ISLAND, ONE HOUSE

Twenty-five-acre Middle Sedge Island, by contrast, subscribes to the philosophy of more is more. There is a single house. The original bungalow was torn down in 1990. In its place rose a three-story, five-bedroom, seven-bath house with gourmet kitchen, inground pool, boccie court, helicopter pad and multiple docks. The area around the house was stripped of all marsh vegetation and the new house is far larger than the old one. Such actions are now illegal, but were unregulated in 1990, said Karen Hershey, spokeswoman for the state Department of Environmental Protection.

Under current law, she said, it's "highly unlikely" a house like the one on Middle Sedge Island can ever be built in New Jersey again. The millwork in the three-story Middle Sedge house is custom-designed to evoke a luxury liner. There is a regulation pool table, antiques and rare artwork, all barged in from the mainland. The island offers full utilities, including cable. Purchased last year for $3.9 million by Bergen County contractor Dellechiaie, the property went back on the market this summer for $8.5 million, including furnishings, a mainland dock and building site and two boats.

Dellechiaie could not be reached for comment, but his real estate agent, Carol Duffy of Childers Sotheby's International Realty in Point Pleasant, said there have been inquiries from an international banker who owns several properties around the world. "This island isn't for everyone. It's not accessible by boat when the bay freezes, it takes a lot of maintenance and you have to value adventure over convenience," Duffy said. "The trade-off, however, is the most magnificent views I've ever seen." Views and a connection to nature are what the islands have in common.

Both sunrise and sunset can be seen from the top floor at Middle Sedge Island. The colors are different there, affected by the play of sunlight off the water.

A FAMILY AFFAIR

Barley Island has the same glorious views as the mansions that are its neighbors in Rumson, but the island squats down at the water's edge, so river life comes to the doorstep. "It is such a perfect place to bring children. There is just water and nature to occupy them all day long," said Yawkey, watching her children play in the water. "Everybody knows each other, everybody watches each other's kids and the generations mingle together."

Barley Island has few degrees of separation. Almost everyone there has known each other for most of their lives. They baby-sat each other, and intermarried. Parents live next door to grandparents and the ashes of great-grandparents are scattered in the marsh. "When your neighbor's house is 4 feet from yours for more than half a century, you learn to be very considerate of his feelings," said Boswell, a retired lawyer whose long white hair, grubby shorts and bare feet epitomize Barley Islander style. "Besides, we have a common bond: love of the island."

Until 1955, all the Barley Islanders rented their land from a retired Danish sea captain. When he decided to sell, they formed a corporation and bought the land jointly, said Boswell, who was president of the corporation for 25 years, as was his father before him. They survived by anticipating problems. In 1964, they built their own sewer plant. They kept a low profile from the mansions along the Navesink and persuaded Rumson officials to declare the island a historic site and off-limits to development.

Early on, the islanders offered to take the sand any time the river channel was dredged. As a result Barley Island is actually bigger than it used to be, a feat that distinguishes it from almost every other tidewater island in the state. "Most people can't even comprehend how many boats there are on the Barnegat Bay every summer and the wave action is killing its islands," said Pete McLain, a retired deputy director for the state Division of Fish & Wildlife who has his own bungalow on land he rents on Marsh Elder Island, just off Island Beach State Park.

He said tidewater islands are just spits of sand formed by the currents and held together by the roots of marsh grass and sedge. The wakes from hundreds of thousands of boats and jet skis literally eat away the islands.

A DYING BREED

McLain belongs to another island clan at the Shore: people who built houses on rented islands that were later bought by the government for wildlife preserves. The previous tenants with long-term leases were allowed to stay through their lifetime. When the state purchased a dozen islands near Island Beach State Park in the 1990s, for example, there were about 20 leaseholders, McLain said. Only a half-dozen remain and when they are gone the land, by law, cannot be rented again.

McLain has no running water, electricity or septic on the island. Everything must be boated in and out. It's exactly as he likes it. "You're living right with it," he said, describing the marsh environment. "You fish and clam in your own front yard and share the land with herons and ospreys. People know they have something irreplaceable here and they take care of it."

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