The month of June.
There is nothing like one’s home-town. Ours is quite special. Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, it is way out there. Through cotton, tobacco, and corn fields we drove. Across multiple bridges and waterways; out to a thin strip of sand, swamp, and forest that juts into the Atlantic. Where the Labrador Current and the Gulf Stream collide, to the Outer Banks. Dubbed “The Grave-yard of the Atlantic” this coastline is littered with history, sea-tales, and small town stories. If you have never been, that really sucks. If you are a summer tourist, who visits for just a weekly rental, that really sucks as well. Take a tip, spend at least one full season out there, to really feel it. A place where each day is truly different.
While we were home, Claire and I had a lot of catching up to do. Monica’s graduation, a few family get togethers, friendly birthday parties – the list was long.
Looking for some money to keep that cruising kitty happy, we sniffed out some work. I helped out my father with some pressure washing, painting, and handy-man type upkeep of homes.
Claire’s family-friends also own a restaurant, The Roadside Bar & Grille. Located in Duck, NC we have worked for them in the past. Myself cooking on the line and Claire waiting tables while shaking up some drinks. A great vibe, a solid crew of staff, and a never ending line of hungry tourists. The menu is nothing but fresh local seafood, generous portions of local produce, with constantly changed specials. What more could some transcient locals ask for while searching for some money. We were eager to help out, and that we did.
I put in a little over 2 weeks on the line at Roadside. Long enough to give their summer staff some much deserved days off. Claire and I were willing to try something different this time around. Discussing the idea to divide and concour, myself heading back down to the sailboat with the kitties, while she stayed on the Outer Banks to work for a few more weeks.