the man left again monday for his last trip. looks like scheduling commitments have me grounded for the rest of the year. this will be his last trip of the season. when he comes home he'll be dragging the boat behind him. then he will put it to bed in its cozy little slot underneath the carport, covered snugly with its tarp where, far from its summertime adventures on the deep blue sea, it will once again become the nesting place of cats and graveyard for the bones and beaks and feathers of birds...their prey:}
grand isle has just about always been our special place. it all started in the mid-70's. we had been married about 3 or 4 years when chuck bought an old broken down boat. he spent so much tme working on that boat. hours, days, weeks, months. when he finally judged it seaworthy we began to make our first fishing trips down to the island. we stayed in fleabag motels for a while. then my sister and her family and my mom and dad began to make the trek down with us and we would all rent cabins. we would take our turns fishing out of that old boat. and enjoy fun in the sun on the brown sandy beach, the grit of the sand in our hair, in between our toes, our hot dog buns and coating our roasted marshmallows:) good times.
in the late 70's, having come into some oil lease $, chuck and his brother put together their $$ and bought a brand new 24' boat. for a while we made a little change and began fishing the waters around cocodrie (chuck's cousin, Mr. Richard, owned a fishing camp there. it was he who introduced them to the excitement of saltwater fishing in their youth....in his huge offshore fishing rig).
eventually we gravitated back towards grand isle and took the plunge and bought the camp. ha! that place was a dump from the get-go. but it was our little piece of the island. the rise 'n shine. old, yet precious for the memories that were made there. all of our children cut their teeth on the island. literally. how fortunate we were and are. sometimes i don't think we really comprehend........ a few memories my heart holds dear from those olden days...
trips with the kids down to the sureway with it's requisite trip down the toy isle for that extra special purchase. nez coupe' gift shop, bluewater sports, etc. had to bring home a souvenier of the island (such a funny thought these days).....every year i would purchase for myself one of those hanging shell windchime thingies. the closest thing to a "collection" i ever had. i still have them somewheres, can't bear to throw them away of course.
before the days of the sand levee on the beach i could look out of our sliding glass door and see the gulf right across the road. i remember times when there would be thunderstorms and you could look out there and watch the waterspouts form....so cool.
once upon a time there was a movie rental store on the island. we spent many an afternoon lounging on those raggedy couches and that old shag-gety carpet snacking and watching movies...the good...the bad....and the ugly. cozy.
snow balls of course. pop's fav was green spearmint. for nicholas, rainbow.
it seems like about every 2 or 3 years the sceptic tank would back up and have to be dug out...what a stinky mess....absolutely never happened ONCE when steve was there. my poor chuck....he always had the honor of being the one to tend to that monstrous mucky mess:(
our ever precocious nicholas... LOVED playing in the surf on the beach and chasing sand crabs, and movin' sand with his dump trucks. i know who his baby boy takes after:)
our sweet gentle risajoy. not very daring in those days, she was content to sit in her little spot on the beach just above the spot where the waves washed in, with her bucket and shovel doin' her thing. no matter how long we tried to coax her to come out and play in the surf. she would just look up with that sweet little face, give us a great big smile....and keep on digging.
charlie's journeys. never missed an opportunity to go to grand isle. lots of times just he and his pop, his bike safely thrown into the back of the pickup. that boy logged more miles on that bike. how many times he disappeared for hours and i would be frantic wondering where on earth he could possibly be. making friends with the neighbors so they would loan him their crab traps so he could catch his own. trespassing onto the upstairs porch of the camp across the road where he sat on their swing overlooking the gulf, passing the hours away doing God knows what. and how relieved i was time and again as i walked down the road to the bay behind us on my own search and rescue mission, to catch a glimpse of him, hat pulled down low over his eyes against the sun, standing chest deep in the still bay waters casting for trout (or whatever came his way). gosh he loved that place. the best deck hand on the island, i just wonder how many hooks he baited and fish he removed from everyone's lines, even before he was able to cast his own.
laying out on the porch swing reading...no matter how hot it was there was always a gulf breeze. i logged many an hour out there reading and snoozing the afternoon away.
mawmaw and pawpaw tag-a-longs. and sometimes also my sister and her husband and 3 kids. wow that trailer would rock. and there was toys carpeting the floor and snack food lining every inch of the cabinets. how in the WORLD did we survive that?
enter katrina. exit our beloved camp. no more swing, no more yukky shag carpet, no more grubby dilapidated couch pillows, nothing left but memories. yet SUCH a blessing in disguise for us. that place was falling down around us and even though the loss of it brought a bit of grief, deep down we were so glad it was washed away. with insurance and some type of special grant steve was somehow able to access, we were able to purchase a new mobile home which is now perched 15' in the air, surrounded by my awesome deck from which i scan the night sky looking into the very face of God. not quite the same but....oh so much better. with the new camp came a new boat for each brother. chuck's for fishing specs in the bay and close in to the island or a few miles out. steve's offshore rig for going after the mangrove, red snapper, the big ones.
and so now the children are grown. the past shadowed in memories. the other day i told my dear daughter-in-law, "we made our memories here, now it's time for you to make yours." like i said....sometimes i don't really think we fully comprehend the richness of the fabric from which spring the many undeserved blessings in our lives.....
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