Vacation Like You Mean It: Leaving the Beach Behind

     Vacation Like You Mean It:
                            Leaving the Beach Behind

By John W. Vander Velden

We had a long drive ahead of us that Sunday morning.  It might have seemed sensible to have slept in just a little that day.  But I found myself at the water’s edge before the sun’s rising.  You might think, especially since we saw four, that it was lighthouses that brought us south, and seeing the light at Pensacola was on my mental to do list.  But the real draw was the water, the wind and waves, the roar that only comes from the ocean…OK it was the gulf.  It is something that has drawn me back since the first time my parents took me to the beach at St. Augustine.  Maybe it was what caused my father and mother to load us up in the 59 Chevy and drive the hours it took from our farm near Alachua to reach the shore.  Water was in their history, and they put it in mine.

It may seem that I have been to the ocean many times. But thirteen trips to the sea or gulf shore spread over my years averages to only once out of five years   We are fortunate to live near the “Third Coast” of Michigan.  We have gone there countless times.  But there is something different in the sea.  Something more than the saltiness of the water.  Something powerful…grand…but most of all infinite about the ocean.  I know it is not limitless.  I know that shores around the world line its fringes.  But maybe that’s part of it.  The part we cannot see but know exists.  That in its way the ocean connects us to others.  All I know, it draws me.

For me it is not enough to sit on our balcony and absorb the magnificence, to feel the sea air on my cheeks, to hear the rumble of breakers on the shore.  No, I have to get close… me and the sea…to step in the water…to feel the power of the surf…to make the contact intimate.

That morning was my one last chance…and I took it.

There are less people on the beach in the early morning.  The man setting up the umbrellas all blue for the hotel guests to enjoy.  We didn’t take the time.  Maybe next time we will have a few more days and will relax on the shore as we watch the ever changing surf, the tides coming or going.  It is always doing one or the other.  Watch the tiny sanderlings race the water’s advance.  See the pelicans dive into water.  Perhaps a dolphin might swim by visible beyond the swells.  Perhaps.  But on this morning I met a man from Germany that prepared to photograph the sunrise.  Though the language barrier between us was not full broken, I told of my walk in the mist two days before and wished him a good day.  I respectfully moved out of his camera angle as I headed east that last time.  But the waves drew me into the warm water.  I felt it splash against my thighs.  I photographed the tumbling breakers around me and the warming early morning sky.  It was my last chance…for a while.  Breakfast would come and the long road waited…It could wait a little longer.

A light rain fell most of the day we drove northward.  A reason we picked the Pensacola area was it was the closest part of Florida.  Even so Google decided that the trip should take 13 hours…how I have no idea.  It always takes me longer than the cleaver computer program predicts, and even so 13 hours would be a long drive…not impossible but a really long day’s drive.  So we broke the drive into manageable pieces.

I prefer to trek across country on weekends.  It avoids workday rush hours.  But timing is everything and this year it was mostly into the weekday crush that we inserted our Malibu.  So, silly me should have picked a hotel north of Nashville for that Sunday night.  I did say should have.  But never fear for our bodies remained on Eastern Time while Tennessee is on Central, so up early and out the door by 5:30 local time put us ahead of MOST of the insanity.  It had other advantages too, for it meant we passed around Indy during a less dense traffic period as well.

We arrived home in time to get Cloey from the kennel, I mean spa, that evening.  The place we take our little wonder dog is superb.  It makes it easier to leave her knowing how well they treat her there.  She returned to us bathed and fresh…she hates baths…all poofie and glad to see us.  Reunited the Vander Veldens of the greater Teegarden-Tyner area had made it safely home, the end of a wonderful vacation.

5-23-2017  
 

Vacation Like You Mean It: Time for Shopping

Vacation Like You Mean It 

Time for Shopping

 

This tree had long been a landmark.  When the magnolia died
wood carvers turned it to a work of art.

By John W. Vander Velden

 

When we travel we always pencil in a bit of time for shopping.  Jackie loves it, so I’m pleased to tag along.  Now we had no intention of filling the Malibu with “good” deals or anything like that.  Rather we try to find some small thing that represents “this trip”.  Last year when we were on Jeykel Island we found a small pewter sea turtle.  So on this day we were looking for something appropriate, as well as a couple of tee-shirts.  We drove the tourist area of Fort Walton Beach.  There didn’t seem to be anything that fit our personality.  I mean just how many tattoo parlors would we visit.  Tattoos seem to a big thing there and when you see the locals you can believe it.  There was also a sign for permanent makeup, whatever that is.  This not saying that Fort Walton Beach doesn’t have its draw, it does, but for us, not on those few blocks a short drive from our hotel.

Along the wharfs was this wonderful shop 

So we returned to Destin Harbor Walk Village.  Our first stop was at what might be described a dockside general store…sorta’.  We had checked the place out on Wednesday.  They do a business serving fisherman, baits, equipment, and suggestions.  But they had so much more, snacks, bottled sodas, some basic food stuff, clothing, and touristy nik-nacks etc.  An interesting place that opened before the rest of the village.  Seems logical…fishermen start early.  There we found this trip’s special thing, a small glass dolphin. 

We wandered around the village again, finding a couple of “Life is Good” tees and slipped out just before lunch.  A few miles down the highway was an outlet mall…a big outlet mall.  We had our lunch there and then walked…and walked…and spent very little money.  There is a difference between shopping and buying.  But in a kitchen supply store Jackie was infatuated with a mortar and pestle…a really big mortar and pestle.  It must have weighed ten pounds.  You could probably grind up a quart of walnuts, shell and all, if you had a mind to.  Jackie collects the things, and we did have the room to haul it back up north…but she didn’t have any idea what she would do with it.  We’re not big into pulverized walnuts.  And she couldn’t think of how she had the space to display it.  It was rather pretty…as mortar and pestles go, all cold stone polished and smooth.  So though it drew her…repeatedly…and I would love to have indulged her…but it remained in Florida.

We strolled around some interesting shops. Jackie found a Vera Bradley handbag that she liked, but mostly we walked about on a warm spring day beneath the sun and a crystal blue sky.  Traffic was heavy going back…again.  There are only three highways that link the Destin area with the rest of the world, so when people want to come in or go out…well, let’s just say be patient.

Later we went to Outback for supper but saved just enough time to walk the beach at the evening’s birthing. 

You can tell we don’t stand still while we are on vacation.  No one would describe those days as restful…and that’s OK.  We had just over four days to spend in Florida and want to see and do…It’s our nature.  But Saturday was our last day, and it capped off a wonderful visit to the Emerald Coast. 

Next week….The road home…

 

Vacation Like you Mean It: A Lighthouse, A Lighthouse, and Oops

Vacation Like You Mean It

 

A Lighthouse, a Lighthouse, and Oops

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Friday was our third day on the Emerald Coast.  I woke up early because I  
 
 
 
 
wanted to photograph the sun’s rising.  But when I opened the balcony door all I saw was thick fog.   Hmmm…decision time.  The warm bed called…loudly, but I wondered if I could use the morning’s mist.  Bare feet, swim trunks and tee shirt, kissed Jackie good morning, grabbed my camera, and I set off.  I ran down the ten flights of stairs, walked quickly around the hotel, past the pool, crossed over the dune on the board walk, and went to the shore.  The sand felt cold, but the water was not.

Though there were not many on the beach that morning, I was not alone.  There were couples walking at the water’s edge.  A fisherman setting up for his morning’s task.  I was kept company by the sandpipers nearby but always dashing away as I approached, and the pelicans that flew into view and then absorbed by the fog.

I have never walked at the water’s edge in the mist before, but if the opportunity arises, I will not resist.  The photos I took were unique…at least when lumped into my other work.  Perhaps I walked a mile that morning…a very pleasant mile.

At breakfast we discussed the day…what we might do.  Those who know us understand that lighthouses have a draw upon these particular Vander Veldens.  I mentioned San Bas Point to Jackie and told her it was two and a half-hours east.  Seemed pretty far but it was the closest now that we had seen Pensacola’s light.

So began the real beginning of that Friday.  Traffic was heavy most of the way, we stopped for lunch in Port St. Joe, just a few blocks from our destination.  Fact is we could see the lighthouse from the McDonalds.

Now San Blas Point Lighthouse is an open frame steel structure.  If you think that makes it relatively new or short, well think again.  I thought the same thing before we went to see the lighthouse at Whitefish Point. Michigan.  That one was, and this one as well is neither.  But though it looks nothing like the other lighthouse we saw on that day it had one thing in common.  It had been moved.  San Blas was moved some twelve miles.  Just set on its side and hauled to its new location.  Kinda’ amazing since the thing is ninety feet tall.  So it stands on a secure place away from the worse weather in a picturesque park in the small town of Port St. Joe.

We climbed that lighthouse.  I mean, what’s the point of going to a lighthouse if you don’t climb it.  Actually most are just gorgeous to look at and that is worth the trip. We wandered the grounds and met some really nice folks from the area on what was a beautiful afternoon.

Now we had gone our one hundred miles, but there were two other lighthouses within thirty-five miles.  So onward, first to St. George Island.  It takes two bridges to get there.  The second is nearly three miles long.  But right at the island’s center stood their lighthouse.  It actually had been reconstructed.  A storm had toppled the structure, so they found the original plans, cleaned up thousands of brick and wa-la, St. George Point Lighthouse stands once again.  The unique thing about this light is the wooden stairs.  A beautifully made wooden spiral to the lamp room.  Since it no longer had a lamp, I could enter that space…a first for me.  The view was, once again, marvelous.  Jackie talked weather with one of the ladies in the museum…you know…tornadoes verses hurricanes…contrast and compare.

In regards to the third lighthouse we saw that day, I must say oops.  The internet can be a wonderful.  And either the site I visited failed to tell me or I failed to see an important fact.  I will not blame that particular site or the internet for that matter.  The fault is mine…and none other.  And so I apologize here and now to the owners of the St. Joseph Point Lighthouse.  Please forgive my ignorance.  

We took the side road on our way back from St. George Island to see the last lighthouse of our trip.  Another unique structure that resembles a house with the lamp room set at the middle of the roof.  Beautiful grounds on a beautiful afternoon.  We parked the car at the edge of the property and wandered around the yard.  That’s right the yard.  I had assumed…now there’s a bad word…that we had come at the wrong time.  After all, Amelia Island Lighthouse is only open for two days a month, and it had taken us three trips to Point Betsy to arrive at a time it was open.  So silly me did not notice the basketball hoop…oops.

We were not there long, perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, but again I apologize for wandering around YOUR yard…whoever you are.  Sorry.

The fact is that this lighthouse’s nickname is the moving lighthouse.  It had been built for service in 1902 but the site washed away, so it was replaced.  The structure was moved…repeatedly.  It served as a farm building and finally as a private home. (OK I apologized already).  The present owners have restored it to a grand state.  And though it would not fit the mental image we have of a lighthouse, St. Joseph Point Lighthouse is simply beautiful.

Having completed more than we had expected we drove the hundred plus miles back to our base camp on the shoreline.  We finished the day as I had begun, with a stroll on the beach as the sun slid down behind the row of hotels, tired but amazed at what we had seen.

The next installment comes next week…Let’s Go Shopping…

(973 Words)                  5-9-2017

 

Vacation Like you Mean It: Destin Harbor Walk

Vacation Like You Mean It 

Destin Harbor Walk

By John W, Vander Velden

 

We were staying on Okaloosa Island just south of Fort Walton Beach, Florida.  It’s on the gulf coast, just east of Pensacola.  Now it is not like some island in the middle of an ocean, but it is a true island.  Like many islands in the southeast you can reach it by bridge.

It was about a four mile drive to the eastern end of the island and there a bridge crossed the gulf and took you to Destin.  The sign that greeted you stated, “Destin the luckiest fishing village on earth.”  Now we didn’t have enough time to find out why they thought they were so lucky, but if location was one of the criteria…well YEAH!

The sand, the water, the weather, at least the weather while we were in town, are fabulous.  “Turn right at the first light.”  The visitor promo card we picked up at the hotel told us.  And we did, not knowing exactly what we would find.  Now we have been to a few tourist driven collection of restaurants and shops before, and we enjoy the experience.  But Harbor Walk is a little different.  It’s the west end of Destin’s Boardwalk district.  A lane that has shops on three levels looking over the gulf.  The shops are like those you find in any of these places.  A blend between chains and locals, doing their best to entice you with just the right local stuff you absolutely need to lug home as reminders of your day…here.  There were art galleries.  I am always amazed at the talent of local people no one might have heard about.

But the Harbor Walk added all the shore stuff, fishing equipment and rentals,  
charters for gulf fishing outings and sightseeing boats, you could rent a kayak, a boat or personal water craft.  There was a booth offering helicopter rides, and others offering to set you up parasailing.  The place was alive, and even on that Thursday the place was bustling.  In some ways it reminded me of Disney. 

I watched the people.  Those that seemed on a mission…knowing exactly where they were bound and what they were doing.  And others, like Jackie and me, just strolling to see what we might bump into.  An interesting place. 

We spent the morning shopping, ate lunch on a patio looking over the water, and watched the zip liners go past, the parasailers beyond the dunes that separated the harbor from the gulf, the pelicans in flight looking for a place to land, and the people, most dressed in bright colored casual clothing.  The weather was warm…pleasant not hot.  In the afternoon we took a Dolphin Cruise.  A two hour boat ride around the bay and into the gulf.  The waves on the gulf set the 80 foot boat/ship to dancing.  But we saw dolphins!  A bunch of

The lights change color...cool

them…or whatever they call a group of dolphins.  They were right up beside our boat…It was so cool!

That ended our time in Harbor Walk…well at least that day. 

I did mention we were staying on an island…and bridges.  It seems that those that live in the area understand and have accepted that limited ways to and fro mean bumper to bumper…a lot.  Patience helps…a bunch.  There are those times things move quickly and then there is the rest of the day. 

So we were worn but happy when we reached our little haven on the Emerald Shore that evening, finishing our second full day in Florida.

Next week I will tell you about a lighthouse, a lighthouse, and an almost lighthouse.  

 

 

 

(606 Words) 5-2-2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It seemed a day for an elementary school outing.  Each group had their own bright color tees

Not certain how many dolphins we saw, but I counted at least twelve. 

Vacation Like You Mean It

Vacation Like You Mean It                 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

We don’t get away as often as I might like.  Now I like where I live, my house and all that, but sometimes everyday life just gets to be too much.  So I enjoy our “escapes” form this reality, and seeing new things…or maybe it’s different things that I seek for just a little while.

It took some planning to find a week when we could go south this year.  All the same it was the first year that field work did not dictate.  So we pushed the date a little later than our usual mid to late March…”spring break” time.  The internet warned when “spring breakers” would congregate.  Now I don’t mind meeting people from “everywhere”, but we love deserted beaches.  So it became the back half of April this year.  Wishing to celebrate Easter at home shortened our time.  We left the Monday after and the road part of the trip took two days.  I have never driven to Florida straight through, and I certainly was not up to that much adventure.

Tuesday afternoon found us on Santa Rosa Island on the gulf coast.  We walked the pure white sand and splashed in the emerald water.  We watched the sun paint the sky all orange and red with its departure.  Our room was on the sixth floor and had a balcony that faced that beautiful water…ooooh…ahhhh…

Now the hotel offered beach chairs and an umbrella and perhaps if we had a couple more days we would have just watched the surf and sea birds, but there were things to do.  We love lighthouses so Pensacola Lighthouse was first on our list.  Talk about new experiences, I had never been on an active military base before.  But that was where the light we sought was to be found and so we entered by the west gate. 

We strolled the grounds of the lighthouse and its museum while the “Blue Angels” put on their show.  Wow!  We watched as they streaked across a perfect blue sky.  When they finished our chance to climb arrived.  Over the years Jackie and I have climbed many lighthouses, and each is different.  This one had a tight narrow spiral staircase without landings.  So this guy that evidently had gotten out of shape had his heart racing by the time he had reached the catwalk.  But the view from the tallest lighthouse on the gulf was breathtaking.

We spent the afternoon at the Naval Aeronautics Museum just a hop-skip-away from the lighthouse.  A wonderful exhibit that reminded us of the Smithsonian.  150,000 square feet of indoor displays of aircraft some that date as far back as WW1.  A must see for anyone that has any interest in aircraft.

We returned to our room in time to watch another amazing sunset to end our first full day on the Emerald Coast.

Next week I’ll tell you about our day on Destin Harbor Walk.  Until then.

 

(492 Words)   5-27-2017  

Introspective                         

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Those of you that have read my Blog must recognize that I’m introspective.  I suspect I have always been so.  But in recent years I have taken more time to look…inside.  I think I understand myself better.  Well, I hope so in any case.  But I believe understanding myself helps me understand others…too.   

Most might not consider being introspective a very “macho”…masculine…harrr…uugh…grunt…time to pillage and conquer...sorta of thing.  I suppose it’s not. And looking in takes time, sometimes too much time.  But in this crazy hectic world filled with so much going on--constantly; In this outside the body social media culture we share, maybe the time looking in is not wasted--completely.  Oh I suppose, that a body can be too introspective, just like we can be too anything else.  Surely there is need for balance in all things.  Maybe I’m heavy in the internal examination part.  I know I’m heavy in the self -ridicule part.  Perhaps the two tie together sometimes.  But if it helps me understand--me--the who I am, then I’m all for it.  

You see I am my own worse critic, most people are.  And I measure myself all the time, I suspect most people do.  But I measure myself against who I should be and who I was, and that may be a bit unusual.  I respect you. I really do, but I don’t measure myself by you.  

I can’t.  

It wouldn’t be fair to you, and I try to be fair, but it wouldn’t be fair to me either. 

Because you are not me, and I am not you.  Our lives may cross, intertwine for periods of time, but our history, the whole of it, is very different.  The things you have faced are different than the things I have faced.  Though we have things in common, we do not have everything in common, for we have been shaped by the years of our lives.

Uniqueness.  The things that set us apart, make measuring one against the other purposeless--so I do my best to avoid doing it. 

But I do look inside.  I search my memories for the moments that have shaped me.  I recognize that even the blaa days mattered.  By focusing on times long ago I sharpen my memories of people I knew then. People I may not have seen for years and years.  I study how I reacted to them--most often poorly--so that if a similar situation arises I might handle it better.  Again measuring me against me. 

Now I don’t just reminisce for hours each day--that’s not me.  But there are times when I walk,--I think. Sometimes late at night when sleep avoids--I think. Or when I do some mind numbing work which requires little evolvement--I think. But this mind work occurs most often, when I sit at the keyboard.  Times, when I write ramblings of my mind like this one, or move out of my body into a character I have created.  If I do not look inside…me…how can I hope to show you the inside of those imaginary friends of mine?   

I think being introspective is a requirement of a fiction writer.  I could be wrong.  I usually am.  But even if it is not a requirement, it is a tool I use, and if you have read any of my writing you know I need to use all the tools I can get.  So I will not blame myself for being introspective. But I will not praise myself for it either.  It is part of who I am, no more, no less.  

Is it one of my strengths or weaknesses. 

Who can say?  

But I hope it opens me to feel more for others…to care when caring is not easy.  That seeing my flaws helps me overlook blemishes in others.  Maybe…maybe…. I hope so…

1-27-2017  (647 Words)

6-24-2023 (652 Words)

Luctor Et Emergo

Luctor Et Emergo          

 

By John W. Vander Velden

 

Luctor Et Emergo is the motto of the Dutch province of Zeeland.

 

Even though my aunt and uncle came from South Holland, they named their farm, “Luctor Et Emergo”.  My aunt told me it meant I struggle yet survive.  And though that is not the exact translation of the Latin phrase, for Emergo means emerge, it is close enough and seemed a fitting name of that property, considering the journey they made, all the setbacks, all the heartbreaks, that had at last culminated into the ownership of few acres in southern Michigan.  In truth I was but a spectator and for most of those trials.  I was too young to appreciate the blood and sweat poured into a dream that at last came to being.  But reaching that point did not end the difficulties…did not end the struggle.  But the struggles did not destroy them, and though it may have helped to shape who they became, it did not define them. 

No one wants difficulties.  Parents wish to protect their children from the hard realities of life.  We all hope for a better world, one that has eliminated the catastrophes we have endured.  But life…by its own definition…has struggles.  So Luctor Et Emergo should be the slogan each of us shout.  To know that struggles come, come often, try to overwhelm, do their best to destroy hopes and dreams, and sometimes succeed in doing just that.  But they do not destroy…us.  No, we are survivors. We emerge from beneath the tumbling waves that seek to devastate.  Sometimes out of those waves great things arise.  It is for us…as survivors…to stride onward strengthened by the struggle.  To move forward knowing full well that the road before us has its potholes.  But we are survivors, and more, for we have been made stronger by the struggle, and understand that dreams endure as long as breath exists.   

Yes, the battles we have endured have cut us…cut in ways others cannot see…left marks that remind of failures and the fewer hard won successes.  But those scars are symbols, metals of honor, signs that we have overcome obstacles and are still standing.  

Each day we face things planned and unplanned.  Each day there are setbacks, unexpected.  Each day difficulties rear their ugly head.  But when we reach today’s conclusion.  When we at last return to our beds and rest, let us say to ourselves, Luctor Et Emergo, for today as everyday, I have struggled but I survived.

1-26-2017  (417 Words)