Pirate Booty

Ground floor opportunity awaits!


There are a number of old sayings proven to be trustworthy:

"...A fool and his money are...   (right, you know the answer!)
        - soon under investigation by the IRS..."

Or how about...

"...A penny saved is...  (right again!)
        - a penny which can be invested in pirate booty discovery..."

Now keep those thoughts in mind as we interrupt for a travel update...




We left OBX on the 26th, and as Calvin and Hobbs would say, "the "trees had stopped sneezing".

The winds were calm, the ocean flat, and Clyde had 12 days of wind borne sea salt covering his windows.  Needed my ice scraper to be able to see out...and a snow shovel to clear away a path in the sand to get the Fox out...we can't get away from them!!!


Overnighted in Asheville.  And for the record, North Carolina is a wiiiide state!   Kind of interesting to still be in NC as we left the flat sea-level  beaches of OBX and then wove our way up, up, up to the top of the Continental Divide on Route 40, which I am sure God put there to block the sharks of the Atlantic from swimming in the Mississippi.

My hands were at 10 and 2, but J got some great sunset pics over the mountains as we drove into Asheville last night. 

Staying at Wilson's RV, since they are a Passport America partner...poor choice.  Better spots can be found, as it is too close to the 4 lane for a quiet, relaxing extended stay.

Biltmore tickets are totally sold out through the rest of December...which gives us an excuse to come back to the pretty mountains of Asheville.

Stirling Edwards, a well known painter whose work I like, is leading a week of watercolor classes just up the road at Cheap Joe's this summer.

Maybe Boone in June...hmmm???! 

Hitching Clyde back up and off to Memphis today...500 miles...trying to get there in time for some good, dry rubbed Memphis ribs tonight!



Now, back to pirate booty...

The Outer Banks of North Carolina is called "The Graveyard of the Atlantic".  And there are two reasons for this:

The first and most important reason is that somehow, old ships just know they will be treated kindly if they come and  die at the Outer Banks.  The name of each old ship along with where it sank is recorded... the long list, dating back to 1580, well before the Mayflower, is at every tourist shop on OBX, so it must be fact.



And ships know this kind treatment for old ships does not happen everywhere.

It is hard to believe, but some locations actually (young children should stop reading here)...

...cut holes in the bottom of old ships and sink them on purpose, known as "shipanasia".  (And now that you know this, you might consider calling your congressman congressperson to complain about the inhuman treatment of old ships, since ships have Rights too...well, actually they have Starboards, but it's the same thing.

But be forewarned, your congressperson may be too busy attempting to impeach Presidents to care about you, your rights, or old ships...) 




And how those old ships KNOW to come to the Outer Banks of  North Carolina to die is still a mystery.

Some believe it is due to instinct, although the majority believe it is due to sea worms taking over the ship and steering them to OBX.  The scientific reasoning supporting this theory is that old ships, like old people, sway from side to side when they move, making it easy for the sea worms to take over control and steer them to OBX, similar to how the sea worms steer old people to Florida.





The second reason old ships come to the Outer Banks and die is based on another well known old saying of equal trustworthiness.

"...You can lead a nags head to water, but you can't make it sink a ship..."




So maybe a bit of explaining...

One of the original beach towns on the Outer Banks is called "Nags Head", aptly named due to an old time practice by some lesser upstanding town's people, who hung lanterns on their old nags and took them to the beach to hunt seashells and as they walked up and down the beach, the old ships would crash into the beach.

Now the old nags could not sink the ships...this was done by the sea worms steering the old ships on their way to the graveyard since they never heard the familiar and well known guidance to "...turn away from the light..." and so they would simply crash on the beach, and be thusly plundered by the old nags.

So the old nags did not cause the ships to sink, it was the sea worms...though sad, it is all true and easily proven fact.




So full understanding of these two well established facts are foundational to our more important topic of Pirate Booty.


There simply must be galleons and galleons of  pirate booty washed up on the Outer Banks...after all, it's the ship graveyard of the entire Atlantic and everyone knows, that's where the most notorious preditory pirates pirated.



And just this week, efforts paid off during the final pilot testing of a ship graveyard digging, doubloon finding, pirate booty hunting process!!!

Not once...not twice...not even three times...but FIVE times this week...ca-ching...the finding of previously undiscovered pirate booty! 


(Unretouched photographic evidence of pirate booty discovered this week by the inventor of the pirate booty hunting process.)

Based on the unverifiable results from an independent audit firm run by the wife of the pirate booty hunting process creator and further established based on the above photographic evidence of pirate booty discovered this week, the creator of the pirate booty hunting process is now accepting unsolicited offers from anyone interested in establishing a ground floor investment in a successful pirate booty hunting operation, with a high potential for return of millions for early investors.


[Please forward all investments in unmarked $10 and $20 dollar denominations to Windy Hill Pirate Booty Hunting Scam Opportunity.] 
Let the adventure continue...

Sneezing Trees

Evidently the trees all caught a cold for Christmas...

Love the wind!

Truly have enjoyed the OBX!

Off to CO in the morning.

Planning a mountain top rendezvous with Arden right after the New Year!

Looks like we'll be getting snow in our shorts instead of sand...

Let the adventure continue...

Merry Christmas

A Child born brings joy to a Mother and Father... 

A King born brings joy to a Nation...

A Savior born brings joy to the World...

Our hope is you find the source of true Joy

on your adventure...

2 Biscuit Day...

Today, December 23rd is one of those days...in fact, the first we've had since we arrived in Rodanthe over a week ago.

But I'm OK with that...after 7 days and nights of constant "surfing" playing in the background, believe I am starting to get into the rhythm of the beach!

So with the light drizzle on the window pane, it was an easy decision to start the third pot and light up the propane.





Now, the Fox is really starting to feel like home.  But even after 3 months of full timing, we are still reminded of some nearly insurmountable challenges.  One was needing a clothes washer, which is resolved. 

The other is the propane oven...

First, we have to keep one of those mechanical matches handy to light the pilot...and oddly, the broiler is on the bottom...

and worst of all - the oven will not hold a 16" pizza pan...

That alone is nearly a deal breaker!!! 





And we loves us some homemade buttermilk biscuits...hot from the oven...spread thick with butter...then honey or apple butter dolloped on top for good measure! 

And nothing makes those biscuits better than WhiteLily flour which we seem to find only at Harry-Tweeters in North Carolina.

In fact, I can neither confirm nor deny that sometime in the past, we "may" have smuggled 30 pounds of WhiteLily flour north, across the Mason-Dixon line...




So with great misgiving, I lit up the propane oven this morning to create our first batch of buttermilk biscuits in the Fox.

And after 20 minutes in that 400 degree propane oven, my fears were realized...

Uggg, those were some scary, pale, lily white looking biscuits!!! 




Now Judy, my ever loving sweetheart of 43 years sent this to me recently.

And I am not certain what she meant by doing that... (seems she might not hear voices :) 













But today, those voices were finally redeemed!

"...Hey Dummy, the broiler...use the broiler!..."

And so, after taking wise counsel, a couple minutes with that Griswold under the broiler - did - result in some of these gooood WhiteLily buttermilk biscuits...

Whooo, in fact so good, we made it it a 2 biscuit day! 

So maybe, just maybe, we can learn to live with the little propane oven...

And maybe, just maybe, there might be something missing for those people that - don't - hear the voices :) 





...And, ya know, it didn't really seem to matter that it was a rainy Monday morning at the beach after all...

Let the adventure continue...

Quilts and Kites....

Dec 20th was cloudless from false dawn to sunset, with warming temps, mild winds, and a trip back to the mainland, which is a good sign that J is going to survive the crud caught from the last visit with humanity. 

You see, J likes to quilt.

And she likes everything else that goes with quilting.  In fact, to satiate that interest, we removed the little used love seat from the Fox and replaced it with her sewing machine before leaving Windy Hill.

So far, both J and the machine have traveled well...


And of course, she found a quilt shop in Manteo that was only open on Fridays during the winter...you can connect the dots from there.

Coincidentally she also found one in Billings when we picked up the Fox...

Think I am seeing a trend... 

The adventure might be as much about quilt shop visits as vistas!





The warming trend and steady 8 mph wind was more temptation than this ol' boy could refuse.

It brought to mind a time Dad took us three boys to the Anthony farm in Red Creek, not to work...but simply to fly kites...

The good old fashioned Ben Franklin kind of kite, that was expensive, at a whole dime, bought from Foster's.  Engineered with tissue paper and balsa sticks, where the length of kite line you could buy for another nickel determined whether your kite actually reached sub-space orbit.


Now days, kids are given helmets, knee pads and only have to worry about white vans...all we were given was encouragement to go fly our kites when it was storming outside - which we "may" have tried.  And which may also explain why so many old people today have no teeth, are bald and can't hear. 

(Don't you just hate it when wrinkled old cobs start talking about the ol' days...!!!)


But on that day over 50 years ago, the winds were kind, steady and gentle, and we flew that single line kit on 300 feet of string for six hours...

(...actually, we held onto the string for 10 minutes, then tied it to the mirror of the '63 Falcon station wagon for the next 5 hours and 50 minutes while Dad snorked inside and we boys played in the barns tight walking roof beams and jumping down hay mows). 




And there is still something magical about a kite dancing in the wind.

...and the joy received from flying a two line delta is considerable.

But that four line Mo-Jo...simply mesmerizing...

Up, down, sideways, even backwards...the designer has my Thanks for creating a time machine, enabling me to be eight again, even if only for a brief moment in time.

Which also establishes my considered concern about kites.


There is significant risk in letting a child have a kite... 

The risks are pending death from electricution during a lightening storm, and of even greater concern, is encouraging a child-like wonder that may last into their 90's!


The reader has been forewarned!




Oh, also the sunrise this morning, another gift from God...

Let the adventure continue...

Clouds...

December 19th...39 degrees, clear and windy, which I'll take, compared with "feels like 6 degrees" back on Windy Hill. 

Not a good sign.  JJ's fighting it.  Hope she wins!  (And doesn't share it...!!!) 

Likely picked up Tue when we ran to Duck, Corolla and other points north.


Rule 10: Stay away from people.

...just say'in...




Speaking of rules, be up before sunrise ranks right up there with staying away from people.

This morning while drinking the first pot, the sky was still dark, with stars showing nearly everywhere. 

And anyone in the know is aware that clear skies produce relatively unexciting sunrises. 

The sky simply blushes brighter and brighter as the sun finally peaks over the horizon.  But that term "relatively" needs to be put in context...any sunrise is a remarkable blessing with the promise of the new day and a new beginning.  Substantial in meaning, even if not spectacular in viewing. 



With the cloudless sky and 39 degrees, there was strong cause to stay inside and enjoy the second pot.

But the first measure of a man is his principles - and the second is how closely he lives them...




... So as I walked the beach in the early dawn cold, waiting to greet the sun - seemingly from nowhere, a bank of clouds flew in from the north.  And it was a valuable reminder of how important clouds are for the splendor of a sunrise.


Just knowing the sun is there, hidden behind the clouds, and catching glimpses of light peeking through the curtain of shadow puts perspective on life.

Clouds happen...

...And often one has to look to see the light, and have faith it is there, even when it is not seen.  Clouds are needed to see the full beauty of the sun.

But oh the glory, when that light shines through... 

Yesterday, the 18th, was a "Blue Northerner"... Sunny, cold and wind from the North in the high teens with gusts up to 25.

So of course, I HAD to take out the power kite...all 310 cm.  For those challenged with metrics, that makes it like 40 feet long and 20 feet wide...(well, not really, but it felt that big with the 25 mph wind!)


I chose...poorly :) 



Even with rocks in my back pockets, my butt left drag marks to nearly the end of Hatteras Island.  I managed to finally collapse the kite just as we were headed to Ocracoke.

Thought for a time I was off to visit the Florida Jumpers! 

Kindly brought to mind a great nephew Aaron channeling his best Superman and Ron, his "try anything once" Dad on a previous trip to OBX, but that's another story! 

Seems the two line Delta was a safer choice!  Great time flying...amazing that someone could design a kite to perform so well in a wind so strong...



And the birds were smarter than me...look closely at the roof of the Rodanthe Fishing Shack.

The wind was so strong, even they were in hiding...

The wind even blew the loose sand from the beach, carving out  tiny mounds where the shells were sitting...






With the wind at it's back, truly in awe of the power of the sea...the land stands no chance.

Let the adventure continue...