Ironside Shore Wire asked a veteran Sea Isle City Beach Tag inspector to write an advice column for summer beachgoers. Here are the recommendations, lightly edited:
Would you let a friend onto the beach without a tag if you were an inspector?
Yeah, me too. Probably a question they should’ve asked in the interview.
Now that that’s out of the way, let me explain what I hope to do here: Offer practical ways to reduce friction and stack a few small wins when it comes to summer beach tags.
Two things upfront:
- There is no universal cheat code for summer. Sorry. But there are wins on the margins. That’s what this is about.
- Don’t mess around with the free veteran beach tags. Don’t send a 16-year-old onto the beach with one pinned to them. There’s a real chance it gets revoked. I’ve seen it happen.
Actually, the veteran-tag scenario explains the two dominant types of adult beach tag inspectors — the kind you can work with, and the kind you can’t.
Whether they’re retirees or summer workers doesn’t matter.
It’s personality.
First is the Principal Ed Rooney type. Enforcement IS the fun. They will absolutely take that veteran tag.
This group is a non-starter.
Then there’s the other type: maybe a Chatty Cathy/Charlie, maybe a local gadfly, maybe someone just happy to be getting paid near the water.
It’s a job, not a calling.
Sure, they enforce the rules. But they still apply common sense.
That’s the group you can build rapport with.
Here’s how this usually plays out.
Scenario 1
Mom has a Ziploc bag with 10 beach tags, shows up with three people, and says the rest of the group is coming later.
Classic pain-in-the-ass scenario. Happens every day.
And I understand why mom — and it’s ALWAYS mom — does not trust anyone else with the tags.
So here’s what I do as an inspector.
I say: “The word of the day is asparagus. Have them tell me that, and I’ll know they’re with you.”
Do the same thing in reverse.
Show the inspector the tags, explain more people are coming, and give your group an odd but memorable password.
Now you’ve created accountability — or at least the appearance of it.
Choose whatever word you want, but make it distinctive and easy to remember.
A veteran inspector taught me a system I eventually tweaked: Saturdays are vegetables, Sundays are trees, Mondays are fruit, and so on.
So once “asparagus” is used on the first Saturday, it’s retired for the rest of the summer.
Honestly, it beats making people walk tags back and forth from the water.
Scenario 2
You’re already set up before inspectors arrive, and the tags are “back at the house.”
This is 100% about how you play it.
You know the mayor? Great. You know Jason Kelce? Wonderful. I know the Sausage King of Chicago.
Nobody cares.
Same goes for the “I pay taxes here” crowd.
Don’t disguise being classless with snobbery. This isn’t Dallas.
But here’s what actually works, whether the tags are really at the house or not:
Be respectful. Sell absentmindedness.
Tell the inspector you left your tags and wallet behind, but you’re heading back to the house soon anyway to make a call. Then ask — politely — if they can check again on their next pass.
Then throw in a self-deprecating line:
“If I still don’t have them, you can watch me march myself right off the beach.”
That works almost every time.
And the inspector probably won’t swing back for another two hours anyway.
That’s your window.
Scenario 3
Your group is fully tagged, but you want to sneak a couple extra people onto the beach later.
Here’s a move that could work on me, especially on a long, hot day:
Proactively engage the walking inspector. Show your tags first. Then say something memorable.
Perfect example:
“They should sell ads on the back of your shirts like NASCAR.”
Now you stand out.
Two hours later, everyone on the beach looks identical. But the inspector remembers the conversation and mentally files your group under “already checked.”
That gives you cover to ferry an extra tag or two back out to friends.
Don’t get greedy.
This works for a couple extra people, not a 15-person reunion.
And any group that suddenly doubles in size is going to draw attention.
Teenage Inspectors
They make up most of the walking inspectors on the beach.
They’re wildcards, but most default to protocol.
One thing to understand:
If teenage inspectors are working in pairs, officially it’s for safety.
Unofficially, they’re both shy, and this is a buddy system to force them to talk to strangers.
They LOVE when you hold up a bag of tags from 20 feet away.
It saves everyone a conversation.
At that distance, a clump of tags in a Ziploc is usually enough for them to wave and keep moving.
But if you run into a single teenage inspector?
That’s your baby-faced assassin.
Game over.
Good luck. Don’t forget sunscreen.
And put the booze in a travel mug.
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