The Beach and I Are Not Friends

The beach and I are not friends, but we tolerate each other. Let’s say we have and understanding.

We just wrapped up a weekend in a very nice Wilmington hotel where we visited both Wrightsville and Kure beaches on North Carolina’s Cape Fear Coast. It was a mixed experience. We had lots of fun with the kids in the sand and surf, but it comes at a cost that is almost unbearable for me. I’m just not a fan of lugging half a living room and a galley kitchen to sit and bake on the sand.

This all goes back to when I was a kid and it was just me and my mom. We would venture to the beach for a day and I would be done by about lunchtime. About that time she would be turning her chair to get a better angle on the sun.

We would bring her trifold chaise lounge that weighed 15 pounds, a metal cooler that had a 1962 vintage. All I got was a towel and a plastic pail and shovel. Lunch consisted of soggy and sandy tuna sandwiches and soggy chips. Boo-hoo, right? Call the whaaaaaa-ambulance! Yeah, yeah.

Well, it sucked, and I’ve hated the beach most of my life because of it.

Not all of my beach experiences are bad ones. I have lots of good memories on the beach, even as an adult and a dad.

So now I have a challenge to figure out what it is I like about the beach. I’m beginning to realize that I like to put on sunscreen before I get there. While there I want something to do like build a sandcastle or go on a seashell hunt. And I want to bring as little with me as possible. That last part is crucial. I also want to find a beach that is a reasonable drive, has nearby parking, and isn’t too crowded.

Because all I really want is my kids to have good memories of their childhood’s on the beach so they will one day enjoy the beach with their own kids.