bigscoop
Gold Member
- Joined
- Jun 4, 2010
- Messages
- 13,541
- Reaction score
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- Golden Thread
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- Location
- Wherever there be treasure!
- Detector(s) used
- Older blue Excal with full mods, Equinox 800.
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
You know how you wake up in the morning sometimes with that, today's going to be an interesting day, feeling. Well, that was morning as I wiped the previous night's dreams out of my eyes, See ya, darlings. I have to head to the beach now. So I eat my boiled egg and toast, pack my cooler, load my gear, and then I head for the pull-tab fields.
So there I am, first vehicle on the beach at 8:00am sharp, park my vehicle and spend the next thirty minutes watching the walkers, joggers, bicyclers, and then those other folks that simply leave you guessing as to what they're going. Just another typical morning on the beautifully peaceful beach.
At about 8:30am four cars traveling together decide to fall a line on one side of me, and I gotta tell you, these folks had to be the biggest people I have ever seen. By my best guess all of them stood six-foot and none of them were under 325lbs, and the men were even bigger. I didn't do an actual head count but there was at least eight or ten of them. I didn't stare, just kept watching the folks on the beach and the group of pelicans feeding on a school of baitfish out in front of me.
No doubt about it, I could tell right away that my new neighbors were from Georgia, those thick southern accents being unmistakable. As soon as I heard them speaking the first thing that came to my mind was biscuits and gravy, not sure why but that's the honest truth. So there I am, sitting in my vehicle and suddenly I can't get a big old plate of southern biscuits and gravy out of mind. Heck, could darn near smell them.
This is about the time I get a new neighbor on the other side of me, no doubt these folks were Jamaican. If you've ever been to Jamaica then you couldn't possibly forget the drawn out language and mannerisms of these folks, calypso music is now playing softly in the background and suddenly I'm wanting to have a big plate of steaming southern biscuits and gravy on a tropical Jamaican beach. Good lord! It's only 9:37am and I'm already feeling starved to death.
A box of Louisiana style chicken, that's what I took to the beach today for lunch and by 9:49am I'm already sitting in my vehicle feasting on it. At 9:53am I suddenly realize that those huge southern folks next to me are silently watching me take every bite. Now I gotta tell you, I'm only 5' 8” and about 137lbs soaking wet and their silent stares gave me a serious case of the spooks. It was like an over set to broil on the beach this morning and by 10:00am I'm sitting in my vehicle with the windows rolled up and the doors locked eating Louisiana style chicken. If I ate a pound of chicken it's certain I sweat out three or four pounds sitting in my home made sauna vehicle this morning. When I finally built up enough courage to step out of the vehicle to walk over to the trash can so I could trow the empty bucket and scraps away I felt there was a good chance that I was gonna get a real down home southern style ass whipping, in Jamaica no less.
It's 10:30am and I still got over an hour to kill before the tide slacks off enough for me to hit the water to do my thing. On one side of me I have a bunch of huge southern folks singing ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, and on the other side of me they're playing Red-Red Wine, and I got neither! And if this isn't bad enough now Beach Patrol has pulled over asked me if I'd move my vehicle one way or the other a little bit so a nice looking gentleman and his wife could park their big truck on one side of me. Go figure, first one of the beach this morning and I'm the one who's apparently taking two parking places. Go figure. But, why not, now I just needed to decide which way I wanted to move.
Now I have nothing against huge women until they come to the beach wearing bikinis that were obviously made for a toddler. At his point I figure I'll take my chances with the voodoo crowd since their tattoos look harmless and their gold and silver chains have a strange allure about them. Five minutes later it's all done and the nice gentleman in the big white truck is now walking over to thank me, I assume. “I'll tell you,” he says, “if you want to stop obesity in this country then Obama needs to quit giving them everything for free.” Obviously, I should have never agreed to move my vehicle. I'm telling you, at that moment low tide couldn't get closer fast enough.
Strange I hadn't noticed, but by 11:00am there were so many canopies set up on the beach I couldn't see the water from my vehicle anymore. Puff! And just like that the beach was so crowded it reminded me of an ant colony. First you see one, then a tiny stream of them, and then thousands of them streaming out in every direction. That poor fiddler crab must have felt like he just emerged from a manhole cover on a busy Manhattan freeway. Seagulls perched on the top of condos because there's apparently, and very suddenly, nowhere safe to land on the beach. Kites and friz-bees and footballs and drones are flying, surfboards and belly-boards and boogie-boards and paddle boards and kayaks are all cruising, people are moving in and out of the water while others are moving up and down the beach, and all of this without any air-traffic controller or crossing guards. And I'm thinking of going metal detecting? Am I completely nuts! Apparently so.
Four hours later I emerged from the water victorious, no gold or silver or anything of real value, BUT, I did return to my vehicle alive and uninjured and there was still food and cold soda left in my cooler.
So there I am, first vehicle on the beach at 8:00am sharp, park my vehicle and spend the next thirty minutes watching the walkers, joggers, bicyclers, and then those other folks that simply leave you guessing as to what they're going. Just another typical morning on the beautifully peaceful beach.
At about 8:30am four cars traveling together decide to fall a line on one side of me, and I gotta tell you, these folks had to be the biggest people I have ever seen. By my best guess all of them stood six-foot and none of them were under 325lbs, and the men were even bigger. I didn't do an actual head count but there was at least eight or ten of them. I didn't stare, just kept watching the folks on the beach and the group of pelicans feeding on a school of baitfish out in front of me.
No doubt about it, I could tell right away that my new neighbors were from Georgia, those thick southern accents being unmistakable. As soon as I heard them speaking the first thing that came to my mind was biscuits and gravy, not sure why but that's the honest truth. So there I am, sitting in my vehicle and suddenly I can't get a big old plate of southern biscuits and gravy out of mind. Heck, could darn near smell them.
This is about the time I get a new neighbor on the other side of me, no doubt these folks were Jamaican. If you've ever been to Jamaica then you couldn't possibly forget the drawn out language and mannerisms of these folks, calypso music is now playing softly in the background and suddenly I'm wanting to have a big plate of steaming southern biscuits and gravy on a tropical Jamaican beach. Good lord! It's only 9:37am and I'm already feeling starved to death.
A box of Louisiana style chicken, that's what I took to the beach today for lunch and by 9:49am I'm already sitting in my vehicle feasting on it. At 9:53am I suddenly realize that those huge southern folks next to me are silently watching me take every bite. Now I gotta tell you, I'm only 5' 8” and about 137lbs soaking wet and their silent stares gave me a serious case of the spooks. It was like an over set to broil on the beach this morning and by 10:00am I'm sitting in my vehicle with the windows rolled up and the doors locked eating Louisiana style chicken. If I ate a pound of chicken it's certain I sweat out three or four pounds sitting in my home made sauna vehicle this morning. When I finally built up enough courage to step out of the vehicle to walk over to the trash can so I could trow the empty bucket and scraps away I felt there was a good chance that I was gonna get a real down home southern style ass whipping, in Jamaica no less.
It's 10:30am and I still got over an hour to kill before the tide slacks off enough for me to hit the water to do my thing. On one side of me I have a bunch of huge southern folks singing ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, and on the other side of me they're playing Red-Red Wine, and I got neither! And if this isn't bad enough now Beach Patrol has pulled over asked me if I'd move my vehicle one way or the other a little bit so a nice looking gentleman and his wife could park their big truck on one side of me. Go figure, first one of the beach this morning and I'm the one who's apparently taking two parking places. Go figure. But, why not, now I just needed to decide which way I wanted to move.
Now I have nothing against huge women until they come to the beach wearing bikinis that were obviously made for a toddler. At his point I figure I'll take my chances with the voodoo crowd since their tattoos look harmless and their gold and silver chains have a strange allure about them. Five minutes later it's all done and the nice gentleman in the big white truck is now walking over to thank me, I assume. “I'll tell you,” he says, “if you want to stop obesity in this country then Obama needs to quit giving them everything for free.” Obviously, I should have never agreed to move my vehicle. I'm telling you, at that moment low tide couldn't get closer fast enough.
Strange I hadn't noticed, but by 11:00am there were so many canopies set up on the beach I couldn't see the water from my vehicle anymore. Puff! And just like that the beach was so crowded it reminded me of an ant colony. First you see one, then a tiny stream of them, and then thousands of them streaming out in every direction. That poor fiddler crab must have felt like he just emerged from a manhole cover on a busy Manhattan freeway. Seagulls perched on the top of condos because there's apparently, and very suddenly, nowhere safe to land on the beach. Kites and friz-bees and footballs and drones are flying, surfboards and belly-boards and boogie-boards and paddle boards and kayaks are all cruising, people are moving in and out of the water while others are moving up and down the beach, and all of this without any air-traffic controller or crossing guards. And I'm thinking of going metal detecting? Am I completely nuts! Apparently so.
Four hours later I emerged from the water victorious, no gold or silver or anything of real value, BUT, I did return to my vehicle alive and uninjured and there was still food and cold soda left in my cooler.
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