Sunny Beaches Revisited

3/30/08

Today was the day for doing something. Yesterday was a lazy day. Hanging around the house, walking on the beach, taking a short bike ride…all part of the lazy day plan. No sleeping in this morning. We had some stuff to do. Stuff, in this case, consisted of kayaking the bay around Cape San Blas, picnicking at a park, walking the sandy beaches, and maybe some biking. After a quick breakfast and the essential coffee, that is…

When we were all ready, we headed out. Cape San Blas was about 20 miles east of Mexico Beach, so we had a little driving to do. We found the kayak rental place (after deciding the first one wasn’t the one we wanted to use) and got out to set up the rental. The lady who greeted us seemed nice enough. You know how sometimes looks are deceiving? This was one of those instances. I don’t have anyone to compare her to. Just think of someone without tact, without a sense of humor, without patience, and with a touch of crazy thrown in. That was this woman. Kayaking, it seems, is so dangerous, you have to sign a waiver. C, one of the young ladies with us, was under 18, and without a parental unit present to give permission for the kayaking expedition. So, she calls her mother to get verbal permission for one of the “over 18” women to sign on her behalf. C no sooner than gets her mother on the phone, when the lady starts with, “Can I talk to her? Can I talk to her?” over and over again, all the while C is trying to explain to her mother the very reason why she is calling in the first place. B is old enough to sign for herself, so she sets her sandals down (on the counter, of all places, heaven forbid!) and without missing a bit on her speech about kayaking, the lady says “Shoes don’t go on the counter”. Not, “Please put your shoes on the floor” or “Please take your shoes off the counter”. I had already decided that she wasn’t the type of person that I would latch onto even before this, but I really tuned her out after that. I mean really, I know, the shoes shouldn’t have been on the counter and C should have just given the phone to the lady (without explanation to her mother?), but c’mon, patience and politeness go a long way in my book.

We get the low down on how to kayak and we set off into the bay. Never did the water get deeper than about 3 feet, but the wind was blowing really hard. This, in turn, made paddling the way you wanted to go all that much harder. While facing the beach at one point, we see the lady waving us to her. Way, way over there on the beach. We make our way there, and then she tells us that instead of trying to fight the winds to come back to the landing when we were done, we should keep heading with the wind and they would pick us up at another spot down the beach. She helped us out, but I still didn’t like her.

Parts of the bay were so shallow the paddling wasn’t an option, so we walked, pulling the kayak behind us. I hadn’t worn my water shoes in quite a while, and the rubbing of the ankle strap gave me blisters (waaah!). We stopped at an island where horseshoe crabs had somehow gotten inland and dried in the sun and crabs had dug hidey holes all over. I never saw the crabs, except for a quick movement down the holes. I found a sea urchin on the shore of the island and felt lucky. Those things are so brittle, you hardly ever find one intact.

It was fun, more fun than I had anticipated. But it was tiring, so we made our way to the landing where they were going to pick us up, worn out, but relaxed as well. After the drive back to the rental agency, we headed to a park for some delicious sandwich wraps, thanks to D, who made them with love for each and every one of us. We ate, and the ladies lay down to read and rest, and eventually, D and I walked along a path on the beach, taking pictures and remembering. D had her own memories of this beach, while it brought on memories for me of other sunny beaches, ones where good times were had, not with friends, but with family. Happy memories, but sad as well, for I knew that it would never be that way, or the same, again.

After our hike along the beach, D and I headed to another beach, one with all sorts of trunks of trees, with snakelike roots, lined up along the shore. They looked like aliens on the march, either back to the sea, or further inland, I couldn’t tell. Some of the trunks had pointy limbs where people had placed shells like a peace offering to some sea god. It was another place of memory for D, but only place of new memories for me. We left that beach, knowing that the day was almost over, the last full day of rest was nearly done, supper was to be made, and another visit to the beach across the street was in order. The vacation was about finished. So back to the house we went.

Supper of steaks and sausages. Music and good books. Sleep and dreams. The night wound down and morning came. Coffee, packing, and saying good-byes. I hated leaving that beautiful place. Our time there seemed to have been so short, but full of fun and sun to last a long time. Home was calling us, as well as responsibilities to others. “Northbound and down, loaded up and truckin’…” What only took just under 7 hours on the way down took us 10 hours on the way back home. Home is where we needed to be, but back to the beach is where we wanted to be.

You know, my sea urchin made the trip in the kayak, the ride back to the house, the packing of stuff, and the ride back home. I was going to give it to my daughter as a souvenir. I got it off the dash when we pulled into D’s driveway that night. Somewhere, sometime, somehow…something happened. It was no longer in one piece. It was broken. It was not perfect. But it was still beautiful.

I can’t wait to get away again. I feel that I will need to soon. Go somewhere; search inwardly and outwardly at the same time. See the world afar and see my back yard. Just get out and go. Search, look, and see. Search for the beautiful things. Look for the unbroken shells. See what is out there yet to be seen.

It is good for the soul.