It was Sean's birthday, so I had the bright idea that he could come with me and while I wasn't on and working the trade show, we could relax on the beach and have an extended celebration. I imagined sun, the beach, pool time and just enjoying island life for a while. We didn't figure on another guest tagging along--Hurricane Fay.
She's my namesake, minus the e (I'm Faye Danielle), but definitely not welcome. We walked on the beach our first afternoon, and the enormous power of the wind had me walking at a right angle. My second afternoon, crashing waves enticed us to at least go out and put our feet in, just so we could say we'd been in the water during a hurricane (OK, tropical storm), but as we ran gaily down the sidewalk to the set of steps down to the beach, waves were crashing toward our feet and the steps were completely underwater. Water droplets, propelled by 25 mph winds, felt like miniature darts against our faces and bare legs. We beat a hasty retreat and sank into the hot tub instead, with chilly heads and warm bodies.
I've never seen water like this, giant swells that crash almost as high as a one-story building, joined with wind that could knock you down. It's exhilarating but also a little scary.
Sean says we just need to get to the hot tub again. I tend to agree.
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