Haven: Once, twice, three times a Shore getaway

When he was about 12 years old, Robert Segal and his uncle used to sail into a lagoon in Margate to visit his uncle's friend.

Decades later, Bob, now a seasoned attorney, still can remember dreaming of someday owning a home in Margate on a lagoon - maybe that very cottage.

Remarkably, the dream came to pass. And though the original house, reportedly owned by a rum runner during Prohibition, has been replaced, it's safely stored in his memory.

"We've actually had three homes on this site," said Ann Segal, also an attorney.

"When we first built this final home, it was the biggest on the street. Today, it's the smallest," she said, noting that the substantial homes around them are a commentary on Margate's renaissance.

But the Segals are not Margate-lovers-come-lately.

"The lagoon is what we enjoy so much," said Bob, a native of Northeast Philadelphia who has spent some part of his summers at the seashore for as long as he can remember. Ann, a native of West Orange, N.J., shares that passion now.

Back in March 1983, when they saw that the little cottage Bob used to visit as a boy was for sale, they seized the moment.

"We rushed down and bought it on the spot," Ann said.

They couldn't occupy it immediately because the cottage was already rented out for the summer. But the Segals were so smitten that they actually spent weekends on their boat behind the house. The renters took pity on them one beastly hot night and invited them inside. It felt like getting the penthouse at the finest luxury hotel.

Sweet as the rum runner's cottage was, it was low to the ground and flooded out twice. So in 1986, the Segals, realizing that it was foolish to keep up extensive repairs, knocked the cottage down to its foundation and built a simple two-story house.

By then, they also had a daughter and son a year apart in age, and needed more space and amenities. The house they built carried the family through the next 14 years, at which point, they say, it was justifiably "tired."

Rather than look elsewhere, Ann and Bob again decided that their location was ideal, and that they would stay on their beloved lagoon.

So they built a house that would carry them through another phase of their lives - the home they hope their future grandchildren will come to know.

This time, they designed a tall, stately, gray-shingled home with blue trim, surrounded by the lush gardens Ann has planted and maintains.

Inside, a largely open floor plan allows sweeping views of the lagoon. Throughout, a seashore palette dominates, with lots of whites, tans, blues and greens and an expanse of light wood floors.

A full kitchen has a counter area for informal meals. A full dining room guarantees that dinners featuring the spoils of the family's crabbing excursions can be enjoyed in comfort.

"We knew we wanted a place where our kids, their friends, and our family would be comfortable," said Ann.

The upstairs master bedroom and three others are done in "seashore casual," and an expansive second-floor deck rides above a first-floor mahogany deck large enough to accommodate a crowd. The couple's two boats are docked and ready just beyond.

The Segals collect art, and two Chagall prints dominate a cozy living room with a wraparound sectional sofa in soft pastels. A handsome stained-glass window and intricate white chandelier enliven the stairway, and a collection of seashore-themed postcards adorns a den wall, along with a 1925 map of Margate.

Mostly, this is a no-fuss, kick-back family house. Daughter Amanda, now 28, and son Adam, 27, still spend as much time as they can at the Shore. As fortunate summer babies, each has celebrated nearly every birthday there.

Bob and Ann also welcome their kids' young adult friends, and always have.

"Our home was known as 'Camp Segal on the Bay' by a whole generation of Moorestown High students," said Ann. (The family's year-round home is in Moorestown.)

The Segals know well that life in the law can be pressured and demanding. But they have a foolproof formula for de-stressing.

"The minute we drive over the Margate Bridge, we start to feel the tension lift," Bob said. "And by the time we're out on the deck, it's like nothing else in the world exists but this."