My wife Priscilla and I began coming to Emerald Isle when our children were just approaching their teens. We have three sons. My wife’s sister and her husband, Nancy and John, have two sons. Their family always joined ours for summer vacation. The five boys were close in age and we wanted to establish a tradition of getting them together regularly so they would grow up knowing each other and being friends. The two families settled on the beach as the best format to engage and entertain five growing boys; and we settled on Emerald Isle (EI) because, to us, it presented the best family environment. We came year after year as our sons grew to adulthood; got married one by one; and had families of their own. But the EI tradition stuck, and it stuck not because we wanted it to continue, but because our sons and their families now wanted the same marvelous, yearly, vacation experiences they grew up knowing. They wanted their children to bond with their cousins as they had with theirs.
I worked in the science field during this period and Priscilla and our family lived several places. John was a Marine Colonel so Nancy, John, and their family moved frequently as well. Nevertheless, we always returned to EI from wherever we were for the family week at the beach. When Pris and I retired to Florida about the same time as Priscilla’s family in 2005, we tried to shift the summer week to Florida beaches for convenience, but it was not the same for us or the children. So as the Jimmy Buffett song “Back to the Island” goes, we all felt we “had to go back to the island”, Emerald Isle. Now each summer our families flock from California, Maryland, Georgia, New York, and Florida to Emerald Isle like migratory birds – but with a lot more baggage! Thirteen adults, eight children (presently all under seven), with all the car seats, beach gear, suntan lotion, beach toys, etc. that it takes to mobilize growing families. Last summer we rented about as large a house as is available at EI (Dune View) so we could all stay together. It was wonderful and we are coming back next year.
For our families the summer is not complete until we gather for our week at Emerald Isle. Having coffee on the deck at sunrise; swimming in the ocean; having shrimp from Captain Phillips; eating at the Crab Shack; playing putt-putt golf; visiting Beaufort for lunch at the Spouter Inn; touring the North Carolina aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores; and hunting for shells and shark’s teeth on the beach during morning walks. And then there are all the traditions that are part of the perfect beach week that you have to see to fully understand, such as:
Surf fishing, not for the fish but for the pleasure
Learning to board surf…. and hearing from Dad how he used to hang ten
Taking long walks with your children where they learn about shells and crabs, and you learn about them
Swimming with your best friends – your cousins
Learning to fly a kite
Catching crabs and sand fleas
Getting the word from Mom
Or the latest news from New York City
Feeling the beach
We always document our beach time with video and photographs, and viewing them is like a chronicle of the advancement of each family member. We take group and family photos at the beach for Christmas cards that we share with our friends to let them track how the families are growing.
So next year we will come back to the island to celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary. We can think of nothing more appropriate than continuing the tradition to celebrate our half century of marriage with our children, grandchildren, and extended family at a place where we have all grown together, Emerald Isle.
Past Guest
Newberry, FL
Once a year, three generations of our family come together at Emerald Isle and laugh, reminisce, and create new memories that will bring us smiles for years to come. Delighting in life’s simple pleasures, all our cares and worries fade away. For one glorious week we are all children again.
Although arriving from many different places, we converge on our beach house nearly simultaneously – precisely at check-in. None of us wants to miss out on a minute of fun. The kids are already playing excitedly in the sand as we stuff the refrigerator full and set up the canopies on the beach that will serve as our “headquarters” for the next week. We take to heart the sign that hangs in the house, “If you’re lucky enough to be at the beach, you’re lucky enough”.
Sipping coffee on the deck in the mornings rewards us with views of dolphins gliding behind fishing boats. We spend our days building giant sandcastles, collecting shells, and playing in the waves. Afternoon gives way to bocce, horseshoes, and ladderball matches that leave us all with the sense of winning despite what the final score may be. In keeping with tradition, a lively family dinner is topped off with treats from the nearby ice cream shop. Not wanting the day to end, we make our way down to the beach armed with flashlights where kids and adults alike squeal and run from crabs that scurry to and from the surf after dark.
As we pack up our bathing suits and boogie boards on our final night, we are sad that our fantastic week at the beach has come to an end, but at the same time we are already filled with the excitement and anticipation of our next reunion at Emerald Isle.
Past Guest
Knoxville, TN
Summer 2008 the economy slow. To vacation? Or not? Said my sanity GO!
Sure, gas prices are high, but there is truth in the knowing-
Time waits for no one, And my children are growing.
We considered the cost, The “prose” and the cons-
And invited my sister and husband to “please tag along”.
It would lower expenses and be a welcome addition,
To what has become “Our family tradition”.
A tradition of driving from Pittsburgh by car.
(Northern beaches are closer but not up to par). Crowded, commercial, they do not come close
To the jewel we have found on the west crystal coast.
Clean pristine beaches, nature preserved, Gulls, wind and surf the sounds to be heard.
This beautiful beach, my boys innocent smiles, Are but two of the reasons -
We Love Emerald Isle.
Oh, to wake every morning, To a good cup of joe- The sun on the sill- No place that to go-
Spying for dolphins, A late morning swim- I set out on a walk to take it all in-
I had not gone far when, from the core of my being,
I feel overwhelmed by the beauty I’m seeing…
“This day at the beach The Lord hath made,
Smell the warm salty breezes, Hear the crashing green waves.
Relentless in rhythm, a frothy white beat-
Hissing sand heralds surfs every retreat.
Barefoot I stroll, sun hanging high-
Stiff breezes belabor Sea Gulls passing by.
Winged seaside sentries- Peruse God’s buffet-
Anxious to sample, “The catch of the day”.
Small fish unsuspecting, have not a clue-
As to their fate yet, Pelicans do!
They “drop in” for a meal from currents above-
“Salt water snacks” they dearly so love.
Cumulus clouds, higher than high-
Vie for a slice of azure blue sky.
The kid in me hopeful, for that one perfect shell-
In this wave? Or the next? Perseverance will tell…
Footprints close behind me, I press ever on-
Wind, sand and surf united in song-
This God ordained chorus, of wind, sand and sea,
At least, for this moment, seem sung “just for me”!
The “rest” of the day we while, slow away, be it reading a book, or, watching the children at play.
We love evening kite flying with room that to run-
The sound poised to swallow the late evening sun.
Late now, and off in the car on a sweet, sticky mission-
“Ice Cream For All!” completes our tradition.
A tradition of Emerald Isle with my family, My boys and my wife…
Yes, “Time waits for no one… So precious is life…
If a place can be a family member, Emerald Isle is certainly a beloved member of my tribe, or at the very least, one of my closest friends. Since I first visited with a kindergarten friend in 1970 until this summer’s week vacation with my husband and twin sons, Emerald Isle has held a spot in my heart that no other place can touch.
The beauty of the island is hard to describe to someone who hasn’t been there because even when you are finished describing the deep green of the maritime forest, the lazy wave of the sea oats in the breeze and the smell of the ocean on a stormy afternoon, there is something about the atmosphere and the quality of the light that can’t be put into words. But I’m prejudiced, because the beauty I see in Emerald Isle is inexorably bound to the memories I bring with me when I go there.
I was five when my best friend brought me with her in a visit to her parent’s house on the middle of the island. Many of the lots were still vacant then, so there were few people. We played on a virtually empty beach – the only sounds were our giggles and seagulls’ squawks. We felt like the beach was ours alone – a powerful feeling for a little girl, and I carry it with me every time I step onto the sand. My own children may never have a memory of Emerald Isle that deserted, but they are growing up knowing I played on the same beach when I was child, and that I love it as much as they do.
My parents fell in love with the area as well, eventually buying a lot and building a house of their own when I was in high school. A lucky break for me, as I now had a place to bring my friends on weekends, and even in summers when I worked on the island and spent each evening walking toward the sunset on the beach. And the times our family spent together, taken for granted then, are now irreplaceable memories, a collage of poker games at the kitchen table, iced tea on the front porch and long afternoons on the sand.
My father especially loved the beach and the house we had there. He rode his bike back and forth in swerving curves up and down the little hills on the short street that led from our cottage to the beach every evening, so happy to own a little piece of the island and be able to spend so much time by the sea. When he died ten years ago, his ashes were sprinkled on the beach in a spot nearest the house, and though my parents had sold the house when they moved to Florida two years before his death, I take time on each visit to go by the house and look at the beach at that spot. As I drive away, I can’t resist checking the rearview mirror, hoping somehow to see him on his bike, gracefully wheeling back and forth on the way to the ocean.
When I went to law school, I discovered that one of the things I had in common with the best friend I made there was our love for Emerald Isle. She and I then began our own tradition of going there together, staying sometimes at her parents’ house, sometimes at mine. We went as students, then as newlyweds with our husbands, and in the most recent years as parents supervising our kids as they played together on the beach or in the sound between her family’s house and the one my husband and I now rented every year. We covered our kids with sunscreen during the day, watched sunsets over the sound in the evenings and caught up on everything in the one week we had together each year. Three years ago, we lost her to cancer as well. In my mind, the sound belongs to the two of us, just as the beach belongs to my dad. My children will never know their grandfather and they have few memories of my friend, but when we are at Emerald Isle, I can bring them back through the stories I tell on the dock at sunset or by pointing out the landmarks that spark the memories.
The tradition continues. We rent a house on the sound every year and I have brought our au pairs (foreign exchange students who assist with child care) with us on our vacations. One by one, they too have succumbed to the island’s charms. It’s pretty satisfying to hear someone from the famously gorgeous south of France say the place you love the most truly is as beautiful as you described it. The only problem: at the end of every vacation, we have to leave. Luckily, we are more than willing to keep creating new memories to live along the old ones on Emerald Isle!
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