Flexibility is the name of the game, and flexible we were,
thus reaping the rewards of un-planned and un-forseen events which dramatically
enhanced this days experiences.
We headed off mid-morning to catch the ferry “to the island’,
with the intent of sketching Bald Head Lighthouse http://www.oldbaldy.org/. We cued up and waited out turn
to roll on board, and soon were headed off across the Wilmington shipping lanes. With the car windows open, Molly & Tessa
seemed quite intrigued by the seagulls, as those gutsy little aerobatic
performers gave them quite a show. We arrived
20 minutes later at Fishers Island
With no sign of a lighthouse anywhere, we figured it was over the crest
of the island’s dunes, and upon dis-embarking headed down the road with our
eyes skyward. In very short order we
reached the end of the island and began to study the historic plaques there
placed. Now Fort Fisher http://www.nchistoricsites.org/fisher/ is an
interesting place and played an integral part in the Civil War, but it was the wrong island!
5 minutes later, with our tail between our legs, we
sheepishly nodded yes to the ferry tenders question “weren’t you just here?”. As you
can guess, we asked for more clear direction back on the mainland and quickly
located the correct ferry to Bald Head Island http://www.baldheadisland.com/, just 300 feet down the road.
On a brisk 48 degree day, we jumped a trolley to the
lighthouse. The neat thing about
visiting the lighthouses when it is freezing cold out and closed to visitors is that we have the place all to
So again Bill sketched while
the girls and I wandered the grounds.
Nearing the end of the task at hand, Bill was approached by a young man
who appeared to live in a house adjacent the lighthouse property, and seemed
interested in what Bill was doing. Turns
out “Peter” is a chef and the guys hit it off!
After a long conversation, Peter walked along with us all the way back
to the ferry in the waning daylight.
the time we had to part ways, we did not want to leave, but swimming back to
the mainland seemed irresponsible, and we climbed aboard, taking shelter behind
the wheelhouse to absorb what little warmth could be found.
Molly was NOT a fan of the ferry, as we had to stay outside
of the main salon. This put us right over the engines. She felt slightly better about the entire
process on the return leg, with the engines a full 12 feet below us. I am quite
sure she prefers the vehicle ferry where she can stay snuggy in her bed at the
back of the Suburban. Tessa, of course,
being a “bubblehead”, was oblivious to the whole thing.
I digress...back to Peter: as we boarded, I said to Bill “too bad we did
not get his e-mail address” (I had not wanted to be too intrusive with this
friendly stranger), but we felt like we had made a real connection with this 31
year old man.Upon our arrival on the
other side, we were hailed down by the fee gate keeper, waving a yellow post it
note, asking if “Bill” was “Bill”, and when she received an affirmative, the
gate keeper thrust the note into Bill’s hand.It contained Peter’s e-mail address and came with a verbal request to
“please use this”.A clear reminder that
God calls on us to be good listeners.It
is our fervent hope that this budding new friendship flourishes on whatever
level God wants to take it.And I would
leave those prayer warriors amongst you with an unspecified prayer request for
our new friend Peter.
The proceeds of the day:
That was yesterday, and our plan was to head to Cape Lookout today, but apparently God has another plan, and we wait, chillin, for the 40 knot winds( that's about 45 MPH to you landlubbers) to die down and the ferry to resume operation. The ferry captains tell us we can go to Cape Lookout by Sunday :-(
I must admit I have been a bit on edge all day, but Bill swears the RV WILL NOT tip over.I have to trust him on this, but it is nervewracking.