Childhood Beach Trips

When I was a child I rarely went to the beach. I was in 5th grade the first time I saw the ocean. My family visited cousins on Long Island. I remember it was chilly, there was still ice on the beach, and my little sister got knocked over by a big wave.





The next time was just before high school. My extended family rented a house in Chincoteague, VA. It was a wonderful vacation and my sisters and I could never figure out why it happened only once. Our single complaint was that we drove to the beaches in Assateague at high tide - the best time for crabbing, not swimming. But one day, all the kids piled into the car and my 16 yr old cousin drove to the beach; music blasting and our hair whipping wildly from the open windows. We had a marvelous day of low tide and freedom.

The following spring my mom drove my sisters and I to Houston,Texas to visit her closest cousin. While we were running  around in t-shirs and shorts and getting sun-burned, my father was home shoveling snow. I remember very distinctly our day in San Antonio. My parents lived there right after they were married, and my mom wanted a trip down memory lane as well as a glance at the new river walk. The river walk was lovely. The Alamo was closed for the holidays, but we got eggs dyed crazily and filled with confetti. I also recall touring the Johnson Space Center in Houston. Of course, we did not leave before we spent a day on the beach at Galveston. My older sister burned to a crisp. I took a long, solitary walk along the beach and encountered a dead grey animal. I didn't study it too closely. I was unsure whether it was a dolphin or a shark. Today I would know the difference and be curious enough to examine the creature. Back then I just thought it was sad. As a child I experienced life as feelings and snapshots. As an adult I want to know what everything is and what it means.

During the summers I was in high school the Earth Science teacher took groups of students west to study geology. On one trip I dipped my toes into the Pacific. Although we had very little time, I collected a few beach rocks that I still keep as momentos. When I was younger and felt blue, looking at them would lift my mood.

I saw the Pacific a second time when I was in Mexico. My family hosted an exchange student when I was in 10th grade. Two years later we visited Nonny's family in Hermosillo. The desert of Mexico was beautiful and we were close enough to the shore to spend a day at the ocean. My dad went deep sea fishing but I honestly can't remember what the rest of us did all afternoon. What sticks in my mind is drinking sodas from glass bottles that we couldn't open without assistance from Nonny's brothers or cousins. (No twist-off caps.) I also remember Nonny's family strolling across the parking lot playing guitars and singing in Spanish. And, I recall vividly the most glorious sunset I have ever seen in my life. My dad and I hiked up a small hill to watch the golden sun sink into the ocean.  It's odd how faulty human memory is. At the time I thought every second of being in Mexico would remain in my head. Instead, all I have are brief glimpses and sensations. 

I was going to say that my last childhood trip to the beach was my senior class trip to Florida. But I don't think we made it to the ocean. However, just being in Florida is close enough for someone from the Catskills.

Five trips to the ocean and I developed a life-long addiction. I don't live close or go often, but I can't get enoough of the sea. The highlight of every year is our August family vacation to the beach.We all need our salt-air fix.