Washed up on the Shore

We left Highlands early Thursday morning.  It was pitch dark when I went out onto the deck for my morning Tai Chi a little after 5:00 a.m.- a ritual I don't think I have missed in 30 years or more.  I could see the stars very clearly at this hour of the morning - the three stars on Orion's belt, the big dipper.  I was thinking that tomorrow morning I would be doing this same morning exercise on the dune-top deck of Sands Villas in Atlantic Beach, hearing the rhythmic sound of the ocean instead of this absolute silence here in our mountain valley.

We are not used to driving 480 miles in one day these days, but that is exactly what we proposed to do on Thursday, with no stops overnight and only minimal stops along the say.  The coronavirus pandemic is spiking everywhere, so our usual overnight stays at the Historic Brookstown Inn and evening fare at Meridian Restaurant next door were not on the calendar.  

We have heard first-hand accounts of the ravages that Covid-19 can inflict on even healthy men and women and are determined not to let our guard down.  It is very distressing to read on Facebook posts from friends who are defying CDC recommendations and are intending to hold their usual Thanksgiving feasts next week.

After a very long drive, we arrived at last in Atlantic Beach, driving over that familiar bridge across which we have both run half-marathons and 10-K races in the past.  It seems safe here, with signs posted at the elevators instructing residents to wear masks.

We unpacked a little - the rest can wait until tomorrow - and I went out on the walkway to watch the evening stars and listen to the quiet murmuring of the ocean out in the dark before me, flickering lights on the horizon that must have been freighters coming into Beaufort Harbor, or perhaps late fishing trawlers returning to port.  It was wonderful to be back here again, smelling that sweet salty fragrance of the ocean.

This morning, I went out on the dune-top deck to watch the sunrise, but there was a band of clouds on the horizon, delaying the appearance of the sun.  I am always surprised in a childish kind of way how predictable the sunrises are out here - 6:47 a.m., according to my iPhone - because in our valley in Clear Creek, we never see the sunrise.  Out here the sky is immense, and the ocean stretches out unimpeded  before us, and sunrise is punctual.  It always arrives right on time.

There was a lot of traffic down on the beach at 6:47 a.m., pickup trucks driving out to watch the sunrise, jet skis out in the surf, and fishing boats floating placidly by.  A woman walked by just as I was completing my Tai Chi routine, paused, and folded her hands in front of her in a "Namaste" sign.  A fishing boat was out on the water.

That would be a wonderful place to be this morning, I decided, in a fishing boat, with the sky slowly becoming brighter and brighter on the horizon.

We realized, as always, that there was a lot of work to be done in the condo upon arrival.  The air conditioning had broken down sometime during the summer, resulting in a lot of mildew.  So we went shopping and bought a carpet steam cleaner - The Bissell Proheat 2X Revolution Deep Cleaner (Limpiadora Profunda in Spanish) - which worked very well - one could almost say "profoundly."  Most of the day was spent cleaning and scrubbing, in fact, a labor of love for this place that Martha's aunt Lizette has graciously permitted us to call home for the past four or five winters.

By mid-afternoon, we had finished cleaning for the moment, and walked out on the beach down toward the Oceanana Pier to the west.  It is always fascinating to see what has washed up on the shore.  We saw more jellyfish than usual, for one thing.

This small one had just washed in on the surf, flopping over for this picture, but many more were spread out on the sand slowly drying out.  We were surprised that little dogs scampering by on leashes were not at all interested, which is a good thing because they can likely still deliver a painful sting.

A little ways down, we spotted something thrashing around a little in the surf, and wondered if it might be a small shark of some kind.

A little wave flipped it over and we could see that signature shark-face - the mean, beady little eyes, and the curved mouth, closed now in death, that enables the voracious appetite for which this remarkable creature is known.

A little farther on, we came upon these creatures washed up on the shore, mechanical beasts that we had already seen plying the warm, shallow waters - jet skis.

A young man came over to me as I took this photo, and I said, "I'm just taking photos of things washed up on shore," and he laughed.  "We're getting reach to launch them," he said, and true to his word, we heard their engines starting a few minutes later, and they proceeded to power up and down in the surf like dolphins at play, sometimes actually leaping out of the water.

And then it was time to return to the condo,  Somehow, in the course of the day, between buying a carpet steam cleaner and going to the grocery store, we had managed to find time to stop at Blue Ocean, our favorite seafood market just across the bridge in Morehead City.  What kind of seafood should we have on this, our first real evening in Atlantic Beach?  The only answer was scallops, lightly sauteed by Martha as she usually does, with just a little yellow rice on the side.  Delicious!