NOTE: This was an “Off Topic” post originally published on my “AccuWeather.com Community” or “WeatherMatrix” weather blog at Community.AccuWeather.com or WeatherMatrix.AccuWeather.com from 2005 to 2010.

Well I’m a tidal pool explorer
From the days of my misspent youth
I believe that down on the beach
Where the seagulls preach
Is where the Chinese buried the truth

And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do
Maybe invent me a story or two
I’ve got coastal confessions to make
How ’bout you?

They say that time is like a river
And stories are the key to the past
But now I’m stuck in between
Here at my typing machine
Tryin’ to come up with some words that will last

–Jimmy Buffett, “Coastal Confessions”

It’s 9 a.m. at my house and the only thing I’ve done so far today is whip up a batch of Limeaid. And I’m proud of it.

If you missed my entry yesterday, I’m taking today completely off from work to reminisce about past vacations to the coast, since I’m unable to take one this year (first year EVER for me). Keep checking back to this growing blog entry throughout the day as I find maritime memories and finally explain all the Hawaiian shirts, parrots, flamingos and island treasures that decorate my home and work office. There will be photos and stories, and maybe even some video, so put on some beach music, pull up a chair in the sand and join me.

But today, I’m incommunicado, to borrow another Buffett song, and the AccuWeather laptop is closed (see photo above) and I’m blogging to you from home. No emails will be answered today, though well-wishing is welcome; I’ll read them tomorrow. And if you understand where I’m coming from with this coastal obsession, let me know.

This is something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, because those of us who prefer the “little latitudes” (as Jimmy would say) are not the majority and it’s worth explaining to the rest of you.

I’ll be working my way through my Jimmy Buffett box set and some other CDs (as you can see from the lyrics at the top, I’m listening to his latest release “License to Chill” first). I will likely find it appropriate to quote the Chief Parrothead frequently during this diatribe; if you’d like to keep up, you can find complete lyrics for all Jimmy’s albums on his site. I refuse to listen to Jimmy at all unless I’m within 50 miles of the coast (I’ll make an exception today because I’m there in my mind). I don’t want to think about work, the mountains, or anything else when I hear him start to strum the guitar and the drummer hit the steel drums. So when I DO put his albums on, I can slip into that hypnotic coma of peacefulness that comes with the island scene.

I’m also hoping to read a few pages in Jimmy’s latest book “A Pirate Looks at Fifty,” which I started on the beach trip last year. I find his island stories and honest prose consoling while on the coast.

A LIFETIME OF PEACEFUL SUMMERS AT THE COAST

The days drift by
They don’t have names
None of the streets here look the same
And there are so many quiet places
And smilin eyes match the smilin faces

My ol red bike
Gets me around
To the bars and the beaches of my town
There arent many reasons I would leave
cause I have found me some peace

–JB, “I Have Found Me A Home”

The coast has always felt like home to me. I suspect this comes from spending some of the better part of my childhood there. As far back as I can remember, I’ve traveled to Long Beach on Oak Island, North Carolina (Google Map), probably every summer of the 30-odd years that I’ve lived on this earth. Some of my earliest memories (and maybe these are only from photos) are sitting out on the porch staring at the sea, with my dad, who often played guitar or harmonica. When I was an early teenager, we used to go twice every summer and sometimes stay for two weeks.Queue photo of me as a baby on the beach, but Mom has those so we’ll have to wait until I visit her later this month before I can upload that one. The farthest back I could find in my photo archives was me having a really bad hair day at the beach when I was about 14.

We had the advantage of owning an oceanfront house (that’s right on the beach for you non-nauticals) so I got the true beach experience each summer. This was because my father Frank Ferrell (who passed away in 2000) grew up at Long Beach. My grandfather ran “Ferrell Real Estate” and the local surf shop (“Surf’s Up Surf Shop”) across the street from a house that he had built. The house was called “The Anchor Inn” and it wasn’t much to look at, but it served its purpose. The front had a sign with an anchor on it, hand painted by my dad a decade after the house was built in 1956 (shortly after Hurricane Hazel razed the beach in 1954). It was one of the oldest houses on the island, certainly the oldest on the oceanfront.

The house made it through Hurricane Hugo in 1989 although it lost its garage and some of the contents (see photo of the aftermath), and Hurricane Bertha and Fran in 1996, but was eventually condemned when the city asked that the dune line was moved back behind the house. In 1997 I was there when it was carried off on a truck towards what is referred to by the locals as “house heaven”, and left for auction or parts. My uncle still lives on the island and is running Ferrell Real Estate once again. Another uncle works on boats in Wilmington, NC. So you can see that I have my dad’s side of the family to blame for my love of the coast.

Barefoot children in the rain
Got no need to explain
It’s always understood by those who play the game
Barefoot children in the rain

–JB “Barefoot Children in the Rain”

THINGS I MISS ABOUT THE BEACH:

1. The Family

When I was young, it was just my Mom, Dad and myself that stayed at the beach house, with visits from Dad’s side of the family. But Mom’s side of the family started joining us and eventually we would rent the house next door too. At our peak, nearly 20 of stayed in a 6-bedroom house down the beach. These days it’s usually just my Mom and my family, and my Aunt and Uncle who stay in a new oceanfront duplex house at Long Beach. Cousins and their friends drift in and out and Dad’s brothers stop by. But anyway you slice it, they’re all family, and there’s nobody I’d rather relax with.

2. The Storms

Scratch my back with a lightning bolt
Thunder rolls like a bass drum note
The sound of weather is heaven’s rag-time band

–JB, “Barefoot Children in the Rain”

The beach is a great place to observe weather, especially severe thunderstorms, because there are no trees (or often not even houses) to stand in the way of photography. Eastern North Carolina gets its fair share of thunderstorms and there are usually some impressive ones during my yearly vacation there. And of course, the beach is the ONLY place you can see the full force of a hurricane. I’ve had pretty good luck with weather at the beach, and I’ve got some great photos I’ll have to share with you some time. Sunset photos galore. There’s nothing I like more than a nighttime thunderstorm out over the ocean, and I’m usually up in the middle of the night at least once during our weekly trip, video camera in hand. Among my fondest weather memories:

-Our vacation is nearly cut short as evacuations begin when we leave as Tropical Storm Charlie approaches in 1987.

-The oceanfront homes and beach highway sustain major damage from Hurricane Hugo in 1989. I wasn’t there to see it but my Dad took this picture of our house.

– I get the “mothership cloud” photo shown above in the mid 1990’s.

– I visit the beach the night before Hurricane Bertha strikes in 1996, then meet her in the eastern Coastal Plain on a storm chase as she’s coming on shore (see report).

– I drive towards Wilmington to meet Hurricane Fran in 1996, but have to turn around, then she chases me back to my home in Raleigh (see multimedia report).

– The beach is heavily damaged by Hurricane Floyd in 1999. I take a few rolls of pictures the next summer, as the damage is still quite evident (pictures not online yet).

– I catch a circumhorizon arc on the way, then a double rainbow and my first funnel cloud on our way to the Theatre in Southport in 2004 on the outskirts of Hurricane Alex.

– On one afternoon in 2005, I take a sweet time-lapse video of a thunderstorm.

– A waterspout forms as we’re leaving in 2005..

3. The Food

And The Eighth Deadly Sin Is… PIZZA!

–JB, “Bank of Bad Habits”

Beach week is the one week each year where I can truly binge and not feel guilty. A 5-10 pound gain is expected. It’s all about Soft Batch cookies, Krispy Kreme donuts, Breyer’s ice cream, potato chips galore, Cheeseburgers In Paradise (restaurants come and go but there’s ALWAYS a good burger joint on the island) and, of course, Bob’s Pizza.

Sure, you can have Pizza anywhere. But you can’t have pizza from Bob’s Pizza Shack (Google Map) anywhere. It’s literally a shack (wish I had a picture, will take one next year!) with half a dozen guys sweating in what must be 120 degrees (it’s 100 outside many summer days and they have the ovens cranking inside). Best thin-crust pizza I’ve ever had the pleasure of eating. Once pizza is delivered, I tend to have it (cold or warm) for breakfast, lunch AND dinner for as long as possible.

4. The Relaxation

At the beach, there are no worries and relaxation is complete. Normally my family comes with me, but in 2002, I went stag. I stopped to take pictures on the way and I visited the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, a marvel of engineering. The trip was so relaxing that I’m still feeling it. One of my favorite things to do at the beach is to put some Jimmy Buffett in the headphones and fall asleep in my chair after lunch. A good nap and I’m ready for a second dip in the water. The picture above shows the view from my chair when we visited in 2005. This is one of my favorite photos from the beach because it really captures the color and power of what one sees when looking out the window of the oceanfront house that we rent.

That photo is also available for download as wallpaper (1024×768, 1152×768, 1280×1024, 1400×1050, 1600×1200).

5. The Ambiance

There’s just something about the beach. Maybe its the constant sound of rushing waves and fizzing surf; maybe it’s the smell of coconut oil mixing with sea spray; maybe it’s the fact that everyone’s wearing swimming suits, all the time, and everybody’s happy. And there’s just something humbling about standing at the shore the first day of vacation, letting the ocean wash over your feet and looking straight out into the abyss — realizing there’s nothing between you and Europe (well, OK, Oak Island is a south-facing beach, so say nothing between me and Cuba). When I look back at the webcam of the beach I setup in 2005, it really brings back much of this feeling. That was shot from my bedroom window.

6. The Sun, the Heat (and the Humidity)

Let me first say that I don’t like hot, humid weather. Since I come from North Carolina, it’s been hard to avoid. I maintain that there’s a thin strip of land (like the center of Oak Island) that’s not close enough to the shore to get the sea-breeze, but still gets the humidity. This results in heat index values that are probably above 110, perhaps as high as 130, for much of the summer. But when I’m on Oak Island, the intense wall of heat (that one encounters every time they step out the door), just seems right. Not counting sunburn and skin cancer, which one should always be careful of, I think one should be exposed to bright sunlight for an extended period of time at least once a year. Man was not meant to be sheltered from the sun 24/7.

GOOGLE MAPS:

Here are some Google maps showing Oak Island and surrounding area from space. It’s hard to say when these were taken.

Oak Island (Low-resolution, unfortunately. We missed the high-res satellite shot by about a mile!)

Fort Fisher Ferry, which we took in 2003 to the Fort Fisher Aquarium. You can actually SEE the ferry in that Google Map if you zoom in. Here are photos I took leaving the ramp and waiting at the ramp on the North end.

Surf Cinemas (where we were heading the night the funnel cloud dropped down).

Wal-Mart in Southport (A Must!)

If you zoom into this map: Shell Shop – I’m pretty sure this is the Shell Shop (which has changed names many times) where most of our nautical nicknacks have come from.

Ship’s Chandler Restaurant (website), an oceanfront diner in Southport, the nearest town. The whole family usually goes there. These photos were taken from the round traffic island to the right of the building in 2005: Facing Northwest, Facing Northeast.

UNTIL NEXT YEAR…

Well, I guess that’s enough reminiscing for today. Thanks for putting up with my ramblings; I hope you understand now why I feel the way I do about the coast. I’ll now put Jimmy’s book back on the shelf and his CDs back on the rack. Join me next year, when hopefully I’ll be blogging FROM the beach. I can taste Bob’s Pizza already…