Thursday, November 10, 2011

The Brew Crew at the Beach (The Brew Crew Adventures, part III)

For the final installment of The Brew Crew Adventures, we will actually make it to the beach. (If you need a refresher, check out part I and part II.) After a rather long wait to get on the ferry that would transport us to the magical island of Ocracoke, we finally arrived and checked into our cosy accommodations.

We wasted absolutely no time and dumped our stuff in the condo before grabbing a few of The Castle's bikes to explore. Scott and Jason got more than a few confused looks and comments as they went around practically all weekend sporting rival baseball gear....Jason in his Pedroia The Destroy-ah tee and Scott in his The Yankees Have No Farm System and Buy Championships Like I Buy Underwear shirt. What?!?!? I'm pretty sure that's what it said.

No trip to Ocracoke is complete without a stop at the lighthouse.

Ain't she a beaut?

Then we took the BLTs to our favorite spot on the island - Springer's Point. (Not sure where I heard this but someone once told me you can catch a pretty decent sunset from out here. Oh right, it was ME.) Scott made it his job to harass the local sea life. Yep, sounds about right for a Yankees fan.

What no trespassing sign?? Did you see a no trespassing sign? Because I definitely didn't see a no trespassing sign. (Oops.)

Jason was pretty sure he saw a large crab hiding around these rocks and thought it would make a lovely dinner if only he could catch it.

Though we left Springer's Point too early for sunset, we made it to the beach for our bonfire just in time.

While the boys were earning their merit badges searching the beach for scraps of wood to throw on our fire, Libby and I were taking care of hostess duties back at the blanket. (Hostess duties = open bottle of wine.)

Not a bad job on the fire by our fearless leaders....

Nothing like fresh-from-the-butcher hot dogs roasted on the beach. That's how we roll. Keep your grocery store Ballpark franks. We'll stick with some Weeping Radish Farm dogs. (Meanwhile, darkness descends upon us and brings with it crabs. Lots and lots of crabs.)

Aside from one crab on an apparent suicide mission, we managed to minimize contact with the little fuckers. We were, however, pretty traumatized by the one casualty. (Don't we look traumatized?) You see, the crabs are very drawn to the fire. Like moths to a lightbulb. They simply can't stay away. Well, this one little guy kept scurrying right up to the edge of the fire pit and running away. And this one time? Well, he just sort of kept on scurrying. And just like that, he was crustacean charcoal.

As Libby started messing around with the camera, we became obsessed with the optical tricks created by the combo of darkness, fire and a lens. Check out Jason's ghost-arms coming out of his pits!!! Wicked pissah!

And then, this happened. Remember when I promised you Libby and I doing tribal dances around the fire? Well, just like Papa John's...I deliver. I highly recommend you clicking on that photo to blow it up real nice so you can experience the maximum effect of our ridiculousness. (Also, hey guess what I found online?!?! A FREE COLLAGE MAKER. BOOM.)

After such an eventful evening, we decided to take it easy the next day. We beached, we lunched, we coffeed.

Oh yes, and we biked.

We were en route to visit the British Cemetery when Libby hit the brakes and pulled off to the right. She had spotted a cute little cafe/shop/wine bar/beer market called Zely's. The boys were smitten.

And both rode away with bike baskets brimming with beer. (Say that five times fast.)

We finally made it to the British Cemetery and as we were all respectfully reading plaques and watching the St. George's/Union Jack combo flag flutter in the breeze...

..., Jason suddenly realizes he's taken the wrong bike from Zely's. So besotted with his beer was he, that he hopped on someone else's bike and rode away. So he jumped back on and pedaled furiously back to Zely's. Remember when I promised you Jason stealing a bike? It may have taken more than thirty minutes, but I delivered.

We had planned on another beach fire for our evening entertainment but the Tunes went shopping for supplies and found out that beach fires are actually currently, um...kind of...a little bit....well...sort of...prohibited due to recent dry conditions. Oops. Our bad.

So, as a substitute we did this:

While overlooking this:

That'll do just fine, thanks. And we enjoyed it so much that we did it again the next night.

And that's when we broke out the Tunes' fancy camera again.

After one shot of goofing off, they managed to pull it together for a very nice photo.

Conversely, this is how many shots Jason and I went through... (Once again I suggest, nay demand, you blow it up for maximum effect.) (Also, hey guess what I found online?!?! A FREE COLLAGE MAKER. BOOM.)

...before we got this one.

But that was not enough tom foolery for us. We had the brilliant idea to set the camera up and let 'er rip. (You know the drill. Blow it up.) (Also, hey guess what I found online?!?! A FREE COLLAGE MAKER. BOOM.)

And finally, one suitable for framing. (Truth be told, I'd sooner frame the collage.)

And I'll leave you with this sentiment... This was posted on the hostess stand at the restaurant we went to that evening. A sure sign you've picked the right place.

And that's the story of how the Sangers and the BLTs became very good pals.

1 comment:

The Tune's said...

Amazing that the time has flown bye since that trip and as I sit here at work laughing at the stories and the memories it brings back, a Sanger/Tune trip is needed again soon!