View at your own discretion. The following post describes graphic content of the following:
- Sunburn
- swarms of bugs
- sand
- a 6 mile walk
- lack of enough water
- sweat and dehydration
- salt water
See, today my entire family (yes, all seven of us) took an all day sailing trip.
We went out to Cumberland Island, which is obviously an island near me, and docked and explored. The idea was peacefully sail out there, eat lunch, have fun, apply sunscreen, see a ruined mansion, and stroll to the beach for some summer waves.
How inaccurate this picture is.
This is the story of what really happened:
It took us two hours to prepare before actually leaving our house. We could feel the intense heat the moment we stepped outside. I briefly wondered if a decent tan was in my future. We finally managed to pile into the car and, with my dad's sailboat, drove down to the docks. It took at least 45 minutes to prepare the sailboat, get all our stuff into it, get it into the water, and get ourselves into it. Sunscreen was applied to everyone and life jackets secured on the younger three.
Once in the water, we all decided to go for something that none of us needed: soda. Water would have been much better, but remember the idea was to have a perfect, peaceful day. We sailed out. I took my place to the left of the rudder, my dad on the right doing his steering. Jonathan, the 14 year old, and Cricket, the four year old, took their places near the bow. My mom was next to my dad, and David, the 10 year old, next to me and the ice chest. My sister, Sam, drifted between the cabin and the place next to my mom.
I tried my hand at steering, but gave up after 10 minutes because I was/am too short to see over the deck of the boat. Quite a problem on a day when the river is full of boat-traffic. I retired to my spot and read 2 stories from "The Illustrated Man" by Ray Bradbury, a fascinating author and book, I daresay.
An hour later we arrived to the public side of the island; a side only my mom had seen before. I could already feel the effects of sunburn on my legs and arms. I wanted water. We all did, I think. We pulled up to the dock after a brief wait, and piled into a picnic table at which Sam was stung by ants at least twice. We ate, but only my dad was really in the mood for eating. I happily listened to a family nearby sharing funny horse stories. My favorite was the story of one of the girls about my age talking about her Tennessee Walker being forced to walk through a river. The images of horse limbs going in crazy directions was quite humorous.
We packed up after eating. Reapplied sunscreen. Got water. Cricket escaped at least three times to do adventurous things, and after seeing a lizard go up a tree stayed nearby until it was time to go.
We set out.
The walk to the mansion's ruins seemed to take forever. The way my mom had spoken of it, the mansion seemed like a five minute walk. In reality, it was probably twenty. That's really not a big deal to us older folks, but in the intense heat and with a four and seven year old, it wasn't exactly "ideal". I carried Cricket as much as I could once he started asking for permission to "hold one of us", but my skin was slick with sweat (disgusting, right?) and it wasn't easy. Finally, we reached destination #1! A ruined mansion the public was not allowed to explore because of rattlesnake occupation. We continued on. Next stop, the beach!
Now, my mom had never actually gone to this part of the island, but figured it wouldn't be far. Ten, fifteen minutes? Try forty-five.
We walked. And walked. And walked. Jonathan fell behind being the smart-Alaska to wear flip-flops and getting cactuses and sand spurs stuck in his feet. I waited for him, but by this point the gnats and mosquitoes were ridiculously bad. Swarms of twenty or thirty followed each of us. The only escape was to keep moving. Moving was a luxury Jonathan could not afford unless he wanted to lose his feet. I stayed behind with him, swatting at his legs and arms with a towel while he gently and patiently pulled each cactus out. But at least we had the shade of the trees, a wonderful thing that dropped the overall temperature at least 10 degrees.
And then we left the forest behind for a horror called sand dunes. Jon and I agreed it was horrible. Goodbye bugs and prickly things; hello heat, sand, and sun. The dunes went up and down, seemingly forever. We got lost among them, and originally decided to go back, until Cricket pleaded to continue onto the beach. We did see some of the wild horses, that made it much better--for me, at least. I did see a filly of about a couple of months, and a colt of about a year and a half, not quite old enough to leave the herd, yet.
But we passed the horses and continued on. It was a nightmare. Even if it was only today, I only vaguely remember having this conversation once I was alone:
"Oh, flog it all to helium! I don't give a shilling. Oh, cabbage, God is that a sin? Oh, flog it all to helium, I don't give a shilling, anymore. God, please don't let me die out here. I feel like Mary trekking across wherever she trekked across on her way to Bethlehem to have Jesus, only it's really hot and I'm not going to have a baby. Oh, cabbage, is that a sin? God, fine, I'll stop complaining. I give it all to you for....for the souls in Purgatory! Yes, that's it! I hope they're happy. Oh flog it all to helium."
I do kind of remember saying "We're all gonna die!" a few times while we were all still together.
I was more ecstatic than I should have been when I reached the wooden walkway that would take me through the final stretch of the dunes and to the beach. I continued to ramble on about helium and shillings and other meaningless things, and abruptly stopped when I heard the voices of strangers not far behind me. I glanced over my shoulder, and saw two people walking the same path. I hope they were well entertained.
And then I saw it--THE BEACH. YES. FINALLY. Hot, sweaty, sunburned, and exhausted, I hurried to my mom to show her my tomato skin. We all put sunscreen on a third time, and my four siblings played in the water. My dad watched them (thank God for my dad) while my mom and I collapsed on some towels in hopes to regain our strength before the three mile trudge back.
We left 45 minutes later. Jonathan was declaring it the worst day of his life, but Jonathan prefers video games about hunting deer more than hunting actual deer, so that doesn't mean anything. I was silent as the grave, a sure sign of my exhaustion and dehydration. I fast-walked, forcing myself through the dunes after taking that horrible step of the boardwalk. I paused in a rare patch of shade to catch my breath. My heart pounded in my ears. My body burned and ached. Sweat trickled down my skin. I continued, hearing the voices of the rest of my family behind me.
I saw the trees up ahead! I walked faster, figuring I could deal with the bugs. Bugs would definitely be better than the fire-rays of the sun.
I stepped into the underside-of-the-pillow-feeling of the shade. I paused. I was wrong about the bugs. They were worse. I was at a fast-paced walk once again. Swatting the air around me, I hit between 7 and 10 mosquitoes per hand with each swat. I. Am. Not. Exaggerating. They were everywhere. I hit them when they landed, and continued swatting to try to discourage them. It didn't work, even though I was covered in their dead, black carcasses. My family caught up, and my mom directed us to one of the far-and-few-in-between restrooms up ahead with water fountains. We hurried.
The building was apparently an old church for the servants or something from what I gathered from the pictures in it. My sister and I hurried to the girls bathroom. The bugs had, thank you Jesus, not followed us into the building. We slobbered water onto our body from the sink, then went back out and took long gulps of water from the fountain, refilling our water bottles. I sat on a bench and did not want to get up. My mom came over and, unexpectedly, poured water over the front of me. It felt magnificent. All too soon we were forced to continue on.
We passed the Dungeoness, the ruined mansion. Twenty minutes of the nightmare left. We made it, finally. The bugs followed us, the torment continued, but we made it back! We piled into the boat, me on the bow alone this time, and everyone else behind, and took off. We were all ready to go home.
The ride back wasn't too bad, we did see dolphins and I began one of my 3 summer reading books, which is quite good, to tell you the truth. My sunburn ached, though. I can honestly say that it is definitely the worst sunburn I have ever, in my entire life, been unlucky enough to attain. There is a straight line where my short ended where on one side it's lobster red and on the other snow white. The same with my shoulders and neckline. I was surprised that I barely got burned on my face, but glad, though, because last time I got a bad facial burn it bleached my eyebrows to a Viking orange.
We arrived back at the docks the expected hour later. We got the boat loaded up, and got into the car, more than ready to go home. Until another catastrophe (which by the way, I pronounced wrong until a few years ago). The axis of one of the trailer wheels broke! We were forced to leave the boat and trailer in a "safe" place. My dad is now working on a plan to fix and retrieve it and the boat. Of course during the unhitching of the trailer and car, Cricket fell, hit his head, and began to bleed. Not profusely, but enough to scare him and give my mom a heart attack. It's okay. He's fine. He's already doing the "I'm going to get into everything you own and destroy the world--I mean house" thing.
We are now home. We are all in sunburn-induced agony. Jonathan swears he will never again return to Cumberland unless he takes and the ferry over and attends the bus tour instead of the "walk on your own two feet" tour. But, remember, he's a city boy, even if he denies it, so that doesn't mean anything.
Today was a rough day, but it was also a very fun day. Would I repeat today? Okay, maybe not. But I'm definitely willing to do it again. Just next time we're bringing ONLY water, a gallon of bug-spray, and a bottle of sunscreen for each of us. Yes, all in all, it was a good, funny day. Definitely funny. You can't have a day like today and not think it funny, it's just unnatural.
Also, if you would like to read the story of Cumberland Island, Google "Cumberland Island National Seashore". It is, indeed, an entrancing story of Native Americans, war stuff, millionaires, and armadillos.
Sleep and psycho kitty now beckon me. Farewell!
