Virginia Real : Oriental Noodle…

April 17, 2014

I missed a post on Monday because Charming and I decided to take a mini-vacation. We loaded up our camper and drove to the small town of Oriental, North Carolina where they were having a boat show on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Oriental is a lovely little town that is located on the “inner banks” of North Carolina along the Neuse River. The town is small and quaint with a population of about 900 people.

For months now Charming has been reading books written by a guy called “Captain Fatty Goodlander”. I’ve heard so much about Captain Fatty so often over the past few months that I’ve come to think of him as one of those extremely annoying family members who come to visit and just won’t leave. I frequently hear Charming say things like, “Captain Fatty once bought a boat with a cannonball-sized hole in it for $1.57, repaired it with bubble gum and toothpicks then sailed it around the world without a smidgen of trouble”. Of course, I’m exaggerating a bit here about the cost of the boat as well as the materials used to repair the boat, but that’s the way my ears heard it. I think Charming is looking for the same boat deal.

When I married Charming almost ten years ago, I don’t recall him ever telling me that he has this great fascination with the sea. If he did tell me, then it must’ve been one of those things that went through one ear and out the other one due to my being blinded (not to mention deafened) by love. Nor did I think I’d ever be faced with having to set foot on a real boat as I’m a bit scared of water. It’s all I can do to get in the shower and stay there for five minutes. Because of what I like to call “The Baptism Incident with Pastor Andy,” I steer clear of water that’s over three inches deep. “The Baptism Incident with Pastor Andy” is based on a real-life story…my story…as I remember it.

I was six years old and my brother, Andy, was twelve. Six of us kids had snuck off to the swimming hole that was about a quarter of a mile from our house. I figure we had probably been to a church baptizing the previous Sunday and Andy got the idea that the rest of us were all sinners and needed to be “saved”. So, like the sheep we were, we all lined up blindly ready to take our turns at being dunked under the holy waters of the Rush River in anticipation of being absolved of our sins (or such sins as the under eleven-year-old crowd can commit). Terrified of the knee-deep water, I kept jumping out of line and going to the back…Jeff, Jim, Edie, Emily…all were quickly lowered into the water with a few words of the gospel recited to ensure that their little souls would make it to Heaven. When my turn finally came (because there was no one left to hide behind), I stood there trembling in my little red shorts and striped top. Pastor Andy put his hand over my mouth and nose and pushed me back into the cold water. When the water rushed into my ears, I started to thrash and struggle in the water as if my life depended on it. Pastor Andy tried to hold me still, which prevented me from getting out of the water. Over forty years later, I can logically reason that he was trying to keep his hold on me so that I didn’t float on down the river…or at least that’s what I hope he was doing…but at the time it seemed like he was trying to get rid of an annoying little sister. I’ve never liked the water since and subsequently have never learned to swim.

But getting back to my original story…Charming and I drove from where we were staying at the campground in New Bern to the sweet little town of Oriental. We easily found a parking spot on the street that was really close to the marina. It was an absolutely perfect day. The temperature was in the high 70’s and the sun was shining. There was a wonderful breeze that greeted us as we got out of the truck and walked the short distance to the marina entrance. After paying our entrance fee, we walked onto the pier and towards the boat slips where each boat was tied. (You’ll have to bear with me as I may get some of this “sea” terminology wrong…Charming corrected me when I said we “walked the plank” in order to get to where the boats were tied.) Charming eagerly jumped onto the first “blue water” boat that he saw and held out his hand for me to follow. “Ummmmm…you go ahead, honey…I’m just going to stay here and look at the outside of the boat.” After repeating this statement with several other boats, Charming caught on. He firmly told me that I either needed to step onto the boat or we should leave as my standing on the dock for the entire time would not be fun for either of us. Seeing the sense in that and not wanting to ruin his day of communing with the spirit of Captain Fatty, I put on my big girl panties and sucked up my fear. With his assistance, as well as that of the boat salesman, I made the huge one-foot leap from the safety of the pier onto the deck of the boat. Relief flooded over me, but my knees were somewhat shaky. The salesman showed Charming the boat’s interior and chatted about his sailing experiences. I just sort of lurked around the door in case the boat decided to sink.

Fortunately, looking at subsequent boats became a bit easier. After a few hours, I realized that the inside of a boat looks very much like the inside of our camper. By the end of the weekend, I could even envision myself sitting on the deck of a boat with my knitting or a book by my side and enjoying the ocean breeze blowing through my hair and waves lapping against the boat…just as long as the boat stays tied to the pier, I’ll be just fine.