Flood warnings? Beach restrictions? Shore visitors are making the most of their Erin-spoiled week.
Visitors accepted Hurricane Erin's intrusions and swimming bans with considerable equanimity.

When the Derenzis decided to pay about $700 a night for a five-day stay in Brigantine this week, their plans did not include taking shelter from the rain under the belly of the Jersey Shore’s most famous pachyderm.
But there they were Wednesday in Margate using Lucy the Elephant for an umbrella, after taking the tour through the six-story, tin-and-wood National Historic Landmark and hitting the gift shop.
Joe Derenzi, 72, and his wife, Debi, 70, of Dingmans Ferry in upstate Pennsylvania — who were visiting with their son; daughter-in-law; and grandchildren, ages 2 and 4 — allowed that as of late morning, they had seen “not one drop” of sun.
What’s more, with the ocean in an angry state in advance of the approach of Hurricane Erin, swimming was banned in the ocean for the week. When they attempted to just stick their toes in the water, a lifeguard admonished, “Nooo!” (Ah, not that everyone was obeying the rules.)
Still, like others interviewed on a day when the sun later would play peek-a-boo with raindrops that weren’t really related to Hurricane Erin hundreds of miles to the south, they accepted the conditions with a certain equanimity. They found plenty to do, including touring Lucy, board games, puzzles, and enjoying the precious time together.
Said Ari Slifferman, who was preparing for a day at the beach on Harvard Avenue in Ventnor, “We try to make the best of it, right?”
Slifferman had brought the loaded wagon, the beach chairs, and cheese puffs and was setting up a tent with his 3-year-old son as if it were just another great day at the beach.
Which, in many ways, it was. “We’re having what my mother-in-law calls a tourist day,” said Slifferman, a mediator. He has been down the Shore all summer, but they were entertaining friends who had arrived in time for Erin’s swimming restrictions, misty skies, and wind.
No matter. “It’s our last week here, so we’re gonna just come,” he said. “We’re pros and we know how to do it in rain or shine.” The family had already gone to the Cape May County Zoo earlier in the week, and enjoyed indoor activities.
Many were philosophical (especially the ones staying for free at the beach house of a relative or friend). One person joked that the weather gave the family “more time to deal with intergenerational trauma, work things out.”
In Ocean City, Jen O’Meara, 40, of Bucks County, said her children, 4½ and 2½, were young enough to just roll with whatever nature had in mind. “It’s the chance you take when you go to the beach,” she said.
“We’re able to do a lot of things we wouldn’t normally do. Go to more playgrounds. Things you wouldn’t normally do if you go to the beach every day.
“So, honestly, not bitter,” she said. “When you have kids, they enjoy it as much as you enjoy it. Not once have they said, ‘I’m bored.’”
She said her family had paid about $4,200 for the week for their house. Earlier in the summer, they spent a couple of days on Long Beach Island when it was excessively hot. By contrast, the weather this week has “almost been nice. You can walk the boardwalk, and you’re not sweating.”
And, yes, they too visited Lucy.
The remnants of an elephant sand sculpture on the Ventnor beach attracted the attention of Morgan McSenn’s four children and visiting cousins.
Fiona, 7, was surprised but not especially impressed to learn that the weather came with a name: Erin. The cousins were a bit disappointed in the atmosphere’s behavior, but Morgan McSenn was philosophical.
“They have to keep the lifeguards safe,” she said. “I am like a weird person — I don’t like the sun anyway.”
The kids brought out chairs and dug holes and played in the wet sand.
“My kids are all young, so I don’t mind when I tell them that, ‘sorry, guys, the lifeguards say you can’t go in the water,’” she said. “They got wet, they got cold, they had fun.”
By 2:30 p.m., the sun made an appearance, and the beaches were filling up, tents were erected, and some adventurous types splashed around in the choppy ocean, like it was just another day.
At 34th Street in Ocean City, a tidal pool on the beach gave a little loophole to the no-swimming restriction.
And with lifeguards keeping watch, bathers interpreted those “ankles deep” restrictions loosely.
Back under Lucy’s protective shelter in Margate, Joe Derenzi noted that he had logged many a dreary day at the Shore over the years, but had probably outgrown a timeworn rainy-day activity: day drinking.
“We’re not into the bars anymore,” he said, laughing.
That said, Debi Derenzi added: “It’d be a perfect day for it.”