The “Peace” prize goes to …
For the sheer joy of blissful relaxation, I award the Peace Prize to Port Aransas. As much as the town has grown in recent years, there’s still plenty of nothing to do. Our annual family trips (often during the uncrowded month of October) consist of delightfully dull Gulfside activities: beachcombing at sunrise, fishing near the ferry landing, devouring palm-sized fried shrimp (The Wharf gets my vote for the Island’s best), and watching my kid dig at ocean’s edge in the biggest sandbox ever. We always make a point to stop at the Art Center for the Island’s gallery (how are we going to squeeze that painting and the boogie boards in the back of the car?). And we somehow never tire of browsing those surf shops fronted by giant shark heads.
On our last trip, we left our lounge chairs long enough to enjoy a “Dolphin Encounters“ boat tour of Aransas Bay aboard the Kohootz. In between magnificent Flipper sightings, Captain Gary Bridges shared local history and sea-creature trivia, and cruised by historic sites like the 1850s Lydia Ann Lighthouse. Supposedly, the dolphins are attracted to the Jimmy Buffet tunes blaring from the boat. Mother, Mother Ocean. …
June 24th, 2008 at 11:31 am
I agree! I went to Port Aransas for a much-needed break and had a wonderful time chilling out, playing at the beach and dining. I even took a photo inside the that giant shark head you mention. Ha!
We took one of those 3 or 4 hours charter fishing trips, too. Just after paying for our fishing trip, the gray skies we tried to ignore, opened up and came down like crazy. Then, we spotted a water spout on the other side of the bay. Still, we were determined to fish (and the charter company was still going out, so … we did, too). Some might say we were crazy, but there were at least 10 others willing to get soaking wet (through newly purchased rain gear) for the thrill of fishing. Aside from the occasional bursts of lightning … and the rain slapping us in the face, it was really relaxing. I stole a few moments of solitude out there, too. Extra relaxing.
Did I catch dinner? Well, maybe an appetizer. But the funny thing is, this trip conjured up images of Gilligan’s Island. They went out for a 3-hour tour (echoed singing: "a 3-hour tour"). I thought of the S.S. Minnow’s fate: "The weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed." It had me asking the age-old question (at least for people my age and older). Why did Thurston and Livvy Howell pack all their worldly possessions for a 3-hour tour (a "3-hour tour")? And where did they find the space for it? Between the bait buckets filled to the rim with fish heads and worms, scale-and-gut mussed cutting areas, life jackets, fishing poles, and other passengers, I hardly had a spot for my daily ration of granola bars and water. And the S.S. Minnow was a lot smaller, too.
But we got back safely and rewarded ourselves with more scrumptious seafood and some tangy margaritas.