We were beginning to think it was ark-building time down here, but the rain finally stopped long enough for outdoor activity. I suggested a walk and my housemates enthusiastically agreed, so we set out for the pier, a little more than a mile away.
We certainly weren't the only souls seeking the great outdoors; there were dog walkers, parents walking a leashed toddler (soapbox time), a bocce ball game and a woman using a cane and collecting shells. They all looked pleased as I felt to finally be on the beach.
Not so much my crew. Gradually, our foursome became a trio and eventually it was just me who arrived at the pier, soaked from the waist down thanks to the incoming tide. If I'd have been smart, I'd have worn a bathing suit, but I hadn't been that optimistic.
Up on the pier, I walked the abbreviated length of it (never rebuilt after Isabel took off the last third) and admired the view back at shore. I happened upon a couple of guys fishing and inquired if that was what this weather was good for.
"It sure is," the crustier one enthused. "Been catching trout all afternoon!" There were three or four fish there. Shows how much I know; trout are in the ocean?
The other guy looks at my wet legs and points at them, asking, "Water still nice and warm?" I nodded. "Yea, I guess that and fishing are all this weather is good for," I shrugged.
"Well come back and Cap'n Wally'll teach you how to fish," he said, pointing at the crusty guy who was now nodding and smiling at me.
"Maybe I will," I half-promised, taking my wet self back down the pier steps to look for my wimpy housemates.
Unlike some people, I bet Cap'n Wally would be willing to walk a lousy couple of miles with me. Hell, he'd probably even fry up the trout if I asked him to.
I'm just not sure about the conversational potential there and much as I like trout, that's just not worth the risk. Plus he probably listens to classic rock.
Besides, nobody would believe for a second that I'm the fishing type. That said, Thomas McGuane's The Longest Silence: A Life in Fishing was one of the most beautiful books I ever read.
I know, I know. That still doesn't make me the fishing type. Sorry, Cap'n Wally.