Seagrove Beach
Johnny Jones, 26 August 1999
We didn't really go to the Gulf just for the Gulf, and it's a good thing; most days were "yellow flag" days, warning of riptides or rough waves. After being stung a couple of times, we thought there should also be a jellyfish warning flag: one tentacle for light days, up to eight tentacles for days when you have to watch where you step on the beach because so many of the clear creatures washed up.
The reason we were at the beach instead of in the cooler mountains was because that's where my family meets for vacations.
Getting twenty people together for a vacation, five families, from ages 10 to 80, is no small feat. My sister Fran was crucial; when things looked hopeless, her attitude was, "This is difficult, but not impossible." Phone lines were red hot all over the country last spring from Dothan and Pelham Alabama to Las Vegas to Viburnum to Houston, as we called one another to work things out.
Chip, Bryan, Amy and I got to the beach on Saturday; everyone else was scheduled to arrive on Tuesday. So our vacation was in two parts: The Joneses' time, and the Parham's time.
We spent Jones time having devotionals and runs and beach walks and seafood. Also, I wanted to ride the 20-mile bike trail I read about; Chip wanted to try out the ocean kayaks.
While Bryan and Amy went for an eight-mile run on the beach Sunday afternoon, Chip and I walked around the area and discovered a new restaurant. Las Palmas was closed, but we peered in the window. We saw pastries! Chip loves fresh pastries.
Monday morning was cloudy and rainy -- a great bike day! We started with a wonderful breakfast at Las Palmas. Those pastries we saw through the window were just the way we like them: light and not too sweet, and with lots of variety.
We rode towards Seaside on our single speed bikes. Seaside is where The Truman Show was filmed. It is a planned community, and it feels good to be there. There are lots of bicycles there; the brick streets and low speed limits invite them. I meant to take some pictures of the big pastel Victorian homes surrounded by low picket fences, but we forgot the camera.
We rode on towards Blue Mountain Beach through a rain shower. We crossed inlets and saw restaurants and one place called "Monet, Monet," where they owner had some plantings and a bridge similar to Claude Monet's. We rode up to Grayton Beach, an award-winning beach, and around a residential area where no money met new money. It was obvious which homes were which.
Tuesday was a beach day; it was Chip's turn. We rented an ocean kayak and a board thing that skimmed the waves better, but would tip more easily. Bryan took to it right away, and he looked elegant as he paddled across the waves.
Chip and Bryan went out, then came in after about thirty minutes so Amy could have a turn. Amy tried the kayak out close to shore, then she took off. She wielded that double-bladed paddle like a pro. Chip took another kayak to go out with her. There was a moment of pure grace at the end as Chip came in fast, riding a wave all the way.
We didn't go to the Gulf for the Gulf, but we were certainly enjoying the sound of the waves, the big sky, and the feel of the sand beneath our feet. We were enjoying praying together and sharing adventures on bicycles and kayaks. And soon my family would come and we would get to see cousins and uncles and sisters and nephews and my Dad and his wife. What joy!
