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Clams Casino (w/ cheese and bacon)
Clams on the Half Shell
Shrimp Cocktail
Fried Mozzarella Sticks Buffalo Chicken Chunks
cup Soup du Jour
Harbor's French Onion
Crab and Shrimp Chowder
(Served w/ seasoned french fries and slaw)
Grilled Chicken
Crab Cake
1 1.99
broiled seafood
Flounder 20.99
Flounder w/ Crabmeat
(2) Lobster Tails (Tide Price)
Bait Box Shrimp Scampi
Shrimp and Scallops
Harbor Broiled Combination 26.99
(flounder stuffed with crab, shrimp, scallops, clam and fish)
fried seafood
Baitbox Famous Crab Cakes
Golden Fried Shrimp
Fish and Chips
Golden Fried Scallops
Deviled Clams
Fried Seafood Combination 22.99
(shrimp, crabcake, scallops, fish, and oyster) Dinners complete with your choice of two (2) of the following selections:
Pickles Beets, Applesauce, Baked Potatoe, French Fries, Frips, Cole Slaw,
Chefs Veggie du Jour
landlubber's delight
Grilled Boneless Chicken
Fried Chicken Fingers
10 oz Broiled Filet Mignon
Country Style Meatloaf w/ Gravy
Petite Filet and Crabcake
Lobster Tail and Filet Mignon
Pasta du Jour w/ Marinara
bayside salads
Crabcake over mixed greens Grilled Shrimp Salad Chicken Ceasar Salad
Wasabi Shrimp Salad
1 1.99
Dressings: Blue Cheese, Honey Mustard, Gorgonzola, French, Italian
kid's stuff
(10 and under)
(w/ soda, milk or iced tea)
Fried Shrimp
Grilled Cheese
Chicken Chunks
Burger or Hot Dog
First Refill Free on all Soft Drinks.
Coffee or decaf Hot Chocolate
Hot Tea
Iced Tea
Pitcher - soft drink
$3.00 Plate Sharing Charge. Gratuity of 20 % added to parties of 6+.
For your health we fry in a zero trans fat oil.
All major credite cards accepted. 20.00 minimum charge
There stands a rather nondescript house
in Greenwich. It is a large, square, white house.
It’s not an opulent mansion and it looks bright
and clean.
It has several large pines to the east and
a large yard filled with wild flowers. The house
and grounds look cheerful, but all is not well in this place.
It was built in the 1840’s by an old sea dog named Captain Maul. He and his partner
Captain Mulford controlled by default much of the port trade at this time. The great
and colonial seafaring Bowen family left a void when they resettled to Nova Scotia
following the Revolution. Both Captains’ homes were used to store cargo from the
Orient; vast treasures of blue painted china, silks, barrels of rum, silver ingots, bronze
figurines, and much more, was amassed. Entire warehouses, were built to store this
treasure. This is how Greenwich Piers came to be.
Then Captain Maul became greedy. It is said he plotted and was succesful in the
murder of his partner
Captain Mulford. All we know is that he was “lost at sea”. Several years passed, and
Captain Maul became disenchanted with his material wealth. He became melancholy and
finally fell into a deep depression. Some said he was remorseful. Other said he was haunted
by the ghost of his partner.
In the attic of his large whie home, he hung himself. Now this story would end here,
except that singular event seems to have set in motion similar events. To date, this place
has been the scene of seven suicides -- six by hanging. Something is at work here. Something
The one which was not a hanging is a famous turn-of-the-century suicide -- the
sensation of it’s day. Highly publicized locally, it involved the death of Rae Hague by
drowning. At first she could not be found and foul play was suspected, but waterman
Edward Bonham and Josiah Fithian found her body in the Cohansey River and returned
it to the large white house covered with a sail cloth. It was terrible to those who had
known the bright, attractive girl, whose life seemed to the
casual observer, full of brightness and hope.
Her father, Captain Hague, was stunned and could not explain the deed in any way.
“She is the last person who would have thought of doing such a thing,” quotes the
Captain. Was it murder? Was it suicide? Was it a curse? We may never know. I do know this
-- I wouldn’t live in that house. As the old newspaper article ends: “These things can never
be solved and must forever remain conjecture.”
I’m not the much of a hunter, Not that I don’t enjoy camping and the outdoors,
because I do, but I guess I don’t have much stomach for killing (although my readers may
remember my encounter with a large bear), I killed him with a lucky shot in self-defense,
not for sport. Be that as it may, I’ve never killed a deer, I did get one of the most beautiful
and largest pheasants ever seen in these parts along the Greenwich Road with my trusty
Chevy S-10 pickup. So, my cousin the great hunter, insisted I go hunting with him. I think he
really needed me to break into some Greenwich area which is generally reserved for
locals and usually posted. That’s ok he’s family.
Naturally, my cousin picked the coldest day of the year. We started out over the
back field, with frozen furrows of corn stubble harvested only a few months before. A
light snow was falling, and the bone-chilling wind cut through us like a sharp knife. It
was cold! We were dedicated and bundled up with several layers of clothing. We reached
the place where he had shrewdly put tree stands several days before.
An ideal location, it was along a tributary feeding into the Cohansey River, being
essentially a small island of pine and oak trees. This knoll was higher than the
surrounding marsh and afforded us an excellent view. More than that, deer tracks and
other evidence was all around, including several small debarked trees. So, we climbed our
trees and waited. One hour went by, then two, then three. Nothing. Not a deer or
any sound.
Then it started! We became painfully aware of an unmistakable feeling of being
watched! it grew with the intensity with the passage of time. An overall and complete
feeling of dread and foreboding danger overwhelmed us -- like something horrible was
going to happen. Then we did hear something. The sound of human foot steps, many of
them, closing in all around us! That’s impossible! We didn’t see anything and we certainly
would have seen anyone crossing the marsh.
Then I remembered. This place was an Indian Burial Ground. The several mounds, even
the entire island, was one large grave! We were on their land. We were violating their
sacred place. We had to go. We were terrified! Even though we didn’t see anything, we
knew something was there, something ancient and powerful. We could feel it! The hair on
the back of our necks stood up like the bristles on a scrub brush. Our senses were
magnified and moving a mile a minute as we scrambled down our trees and ran for home.
So ended our hunting trip into the supernatural.