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Celebrating the New Year with Fire

 On New Year’s Eve, the activities committee at On the Beach RV Park organized a bonfire—on the beach. They dug a big hole in the sand and burned the Christmas tree that had been in the community tent during the holiday season. A nice ritual, and bonfires are always great. It was a fine clear night, lots of stars, though a bit chilly. Still, plenty of folks were wearing shorts and sweatshirts. I opted for jeans and a sweater, plus I had prosecco in my coffee thermos. We took a long walk down the beach, which is kind of tricky in the dark, and then said, “See ya next year.”

New Year's Eve bonfire on Port Aransas beach

The day after New Year’s we went out to breakfast at a place called “Coach’s Island Grill” that had been recommended, and true to its name, it was slathered in sports memorabilia, on every wall and hanging from the ceiling. We were seated at a corner table right under a framed copy of Pete Rose’s admission of guilt for betting on baseball. An odd thing to frame, but there it was, including a handwritten note from Pete: “I’m sorry I bet on baseball,” it said. There was also a #14 jersey, and a Johnny Bench #5 as well, plus many other jerseys and photos and what have you. Breakfast was delicious, too. Best pancakes.

Across the way from the restaurant was a place we’ve passed several times, The Sip Yard. It’s near the harbor and is apparently a huge three-story drinking establishment. But there is never anyone there. My theory is that they make all their money each year during spring break season. I’ll bet it’s a swinging place for a few weeks in March. I did like the giant kraken on the elevator shaft, though. Pretty sure it’s an advertisement for rum, but still, a jauntily nautical vertical mural.

The Kraken mural at the Sip Yard

We know the weather is going to take a dive; even down here we are apparently not safe from the polar vortex. But the weekend has been mostly warm and sunny—though there was a brief downpour on Saturday morning when I was over at the community tent for the crafting session. I brought the English paper piecing quilt I was working on, and somehow got roped into doing a session where we will make small coaster-sized quilts. Should be amusing, since we have to do it all with hand sewing.

Mike is generally getting the camper ready for cold-ish nights; he emptied the holding tank and we are prepared to wake up in the middle of the night to put the insulated window covers on (it will still be fairly warm until after midnight). Besides battening down all the hatches, I put our recently arrived name decal on the camper this afternoon. Thanks again to Mark Stepaniak for christening the vessel the “Scamp Shrimpi,” and since you can get anything you want on the Internet, I got a nice shrimp-colored logo printed and mailed to me here at the beach. I advise against applying a large decal in coastal winds, but it worked out okay.

The camper has an official name now, "Scamp Shrimpi"

Detail, so you can see the S in each word is
cleverly created from graphics of shrimps

And that’s about it for the last week. It’s been warm, we’ve been fairly lazy. We did go down to Mustang Island State Park yesterday, but somehow I was expecting woods and nature trails, whereas it is just another stretch of beach with a couple of big jetties. We walked along the beach and saw some interesting shells and shorebirds—I learned the name of those pretty shells that are pointy and narrow at the top, then wide in the middle, then narrow again at the bottom (to quote Monty Python)--they are called lightning welks. We also saw a bird that I thought might be an oystercatcher, but turns out it was something called a willet. I asked it what it was talkin' about.


The willet, a migratory shorebird

After our walk on the beach, where we saw numerous structures that must be drilling platforms out offshore (there are some by the RV park, but they are much farther away and do not spoil the view in any way), we continued down and across some inlets to South Padre Island. I had heard tell there was a butcher shop there where I thought we might get small cuts of meat that would fit in our tiny camper refrigerator, but alas, no. It was instead a meat market that sold prepacked slabs of beef and pork. Ah, well. We glimpsed the oil storage tanks of Corpus Christi across the bay. I remember thinking there were a lot of oil tanks down along River Road when I was a kid. Well, there are a LOT more over along the shore in Corpus Christi. I learned that the oil tanker docks are referred to as the "liquid docks of Corpus Christi."

Oil tanks over in Corpus Christi on the mainland


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