Our Vacation, Part Nine

Today would be our last full day of vacation and that meant that whatever we wanted to do, it was "now or never". We had packed a lot in in the past week and there wasn't a whole lot left that we hadn't done already, but there was plenty that we wanted to do again. Despite a forecast the said it would be partly cloudy at best, we decided to hit the beach one more time.

Arriving at the near empty parking lot a short time later, we hauled our stuff down to the beach, and with some hesitation, set up our tent on the again soaking wet sand. We had our routine down pat- laying out the blanket, unfurling of the tent and setting it away from the hoped for sun, the kids scouring for rocks to put in the tent pockets, arranging the coolers and beach bags and towels, and finally, strategically placing the buckets and toys to stake out and extend our territory. All of this was executed flawlessly after years of practice. And with everything in place, Sam again hauled out his trusty metal detector while most of us headed down the shore to once again pillage a few more rocks.

It seemed foolish to even be attempting the beach on a day like this. The sky was covered with a high fog which colored everything grey. Looking out over the water, the arm of the Cape that extended off to the east was completely hidden and it was hard to tell where the water ended and the sky began. We weren't planning to spend the whole day so if it started to rain, it wouldn't be a huge loss. But it would be a loss just the same.

It was striking how big the waves were, and there was a steady offshore breeze- both remnants from last night's storm. I hadn't seen waves like this since the kids were little. Back then, I would hold their sides and help them jump over each incoming wave. In some ways, that was a long time ago. In some ways, it was just yesterday.

We crossed the border onto the strangely deserted private beach and made our usual haul of treasured rocks. I can only assume that the natives were staying away due the threatening skies- keeping safely within the confines of their oceanfront cottages as they spied us through their binoculars, while having their spouses call the Beach Patrol to remove the offending rift-raft (i.e.: us) from their property. This was only a guess, but having seen the demeanor of these people earlier in the week, I think it was probably accurate.

As we wandered back to the tent, the offshore breeze had managed to disperse what remained of the early morning fog, exposing an almost cloudless sky. Soon, the sun was beating down, but the breeze kept things cool. Rachael took to building her traditional sand castle before joining the others in a game of Frisbee. Remarkably, even Sam put down his metal detector long enough to join in. Eventually, everyone returned to the shore where the girls took up their positions stretched out on their towels. Sam and I went up to the swings for a bit of distraction before we came back down so he could resume his treasure hunting. Jake and I went for another walk.

There is a back path to get onto the beach that winds through the dunes and the brush and the woods. Jake and I "discovered" this years ago and I have come to think of it as our own. We've spotted rabbets up here and once or twice, bluebirds. Jake found some unusual acorns this year that I'm pretty convinced grow nowhere else in the world but here. This year, we also came upon a bench that someone had thoughtfully placed at the high spot on the dunes.

Occasionally, we'd run into other people using our trail. We've never stopped them to ask them who they were or what they were doing there. We've allowed them to go on their way figuring, hey, we're all on vacation, let's allow them this small pleasure. I, at least, always felt pretty good about myself for being so generous and giving. We spent some time walking the path and exploring and sitting on the bench before deciding to head back to the tent.

At the tent, we unpacked our lunch of sandwiches and grapes and fruit punch. A little while later, we had our second lunch of chicken nuggets, french fries and onion rings from the snack bar- all deep-fried to perfection as only a college student working a part-time summer job at a beach shack could prepare it.

After lunch, I waited for Sam to find a few more coins before it was time for us to leave.

Back at the cottage, everyone took their showers and after a few more cartoons, we decided to go to the Pottery Place to take a look around and maybe get something that we had debated on earlier in the week. Sam and Jake had some kind of dust-up earlier, due to something I can't remember. I'm sure being tired played an underlying role in whatever it was. We were reaching a point in the vacation where we knew it was almost time to go, and it was met with mixed emotions- part of you was ready to go home, to sleep in your own bed, and I'm sure for the others at least, to have the freedom to go where you wanted, when you wanted, and with whom you wanted. But the other part doesn't want to let go and wants more time. That, I think, is the part in me.

We wrapped up our visit at the Pottery Place, buying a  mug for each of the kids to be held for a "surprise" Christmas gift- the surprise likely being that I won't remember where I had stashed them by then. We headed back to the van wondering where to go next.

By now, it was late afternoon- too early to give up and head back to the cottage, but too late to get involved in a drawn out activity. Since it was approaching an early dinnertime, and since we were still on vacation, we made a second trip to the Sundae School and had ice cream one last time. From there, we headed for a quick visit to Craigville Beach.

It had been close to twenty years since we were last at Craigville Beach. We came one time in the off season, in March. Jake was a toddler and the girls- only slightly older than that. Except for only one other person on the beach that day, we were the only ones there. We collected buckets full of scallop shells, some of which fill the lamp on my desk. We hadn't been back since- not so much because it's out of our way, which it is, but mostly because we make a hefty investment in a beach sticker every year and it only covers us for the town we stay in. Craigville Beach is not in that town.

So we drove to Craigville where it was late enough that we didn't get charged and the beach wasn't especially crowded. We walked the shore and talked about what it was like when we were there those many years ago. But since it wasn't off season, and since the beach wasn't empty, we didn't find very many shells. Still, it was nice to refresh the memories of their youth and hear about what, if anything they remembered. And it was nice to walk the beach that was my Cape Cod many, many years ago.

We headed back to the cottage, first making a stop at the jewelry store where the girls ran in while the boys and I waited in the van. Eventually, Rachael drifted out and the two of us walked to the only nearby store- which happened to be a liquor store. She checked out their selection of beer. I checked out their selection of wine in personal size boxes. I had never seen this before. It seemed to be a clever way to eliminate the need of drinking out of a paper bag. I didn't get anything. Rachael did.

We had a busy, but less hectic day than some of the other days this past week. Back at the cottage, we began to gather up our accumulations from our vacation before finally relaxing. Sam finished his puzzle and enjoyed watching those TV stations that we don't get at home. I played "Cranium" with Helaina, Rachael and Jake. The day finished on a good note but eventually it was time to give up and go to bed. Tomorrow would be a day of packing and tying up loose ends before making the long drive home.