The 10-Day Forecast suits me well.  Wind and rain today, then four days of sun and high temps followed by three days of rain and one of sunshine.  The day we leave is predicted to be sunny and warm. This all matters because it enables me to strategize my beach attendances mixed with swimming in the Ocean. Throughout the process, in addition to a beach towel in the bicycle basket, I shall sport my black Speedo swimming trunks, a linen shirt by either Tommy Bahama RELAX (white) or HiHo Beach fit (turquoise), worn-out SAS Decksider lace up Boat Shoes, Apple Watch, Sonny’s Original Surf Paste (Texturizing/Medium Hold/Matte Finish/UV Protecting enriched with Hawaiian Black Lava Sea Salt and Sea Kemp) and customary accompanying glitter on the fourth right, left pinky and around the neck. In the pockets of my trunks will be my iPhone and Carmex Classic Lip Balm (medicated) which I use as a nourishing face cream as well. For the uninterrupted project there are two objectives: sun and swim.

My descent to this utter simplicity and vacuum is to me comic when I recall my former preoccupation with an inter vivos trust and whether a transfer of ownership from a deceased joint tenant to another joint tenant as trustee, while sufficient to enable the common law “survivorship” model of Joint Tenancy and to escape the fetters of Canada Revenue Agency for change of “beneficial ownership”, was also adequate to shake off Estate Tax (“probate fees”) imposed by the provincial government which asserted an outright transfer of wealth and therefore taxable. So perplexing was this specialized knowledge that it engaged the keen interest of a (retired) Justice of the Federal Court of Canada who, when convinced of the correctness of the abstruse thesis, not only supported it privately but went so far to disapprove the learned though contrary views of BMO Nesbitt Burns who in fairness to them didn’t so much object to the propriety of the scheme as they preferred to refuse to acknowledge the trust at all, relying instead upon the bold face of entitlement in the contract of ownership.

All that obfuscation is now in the past. This old dog is devoted solely to improving the lacquer upon the carcass and submerging the same beneath the frothing emerald waters of the North Atlantic Ocean. What an anomalous evaporation!

My first critical choice is to take my bicycle. Though walking is sadly an enormous labour for me, sitting on a bicycle seat and pedalling is faultlessly comfortable.  This means however that I must pay attention to how and where I get onto the beach. While many of the beach access points consist of charming boardwalks, they can be long (some painfully so) – especially when observing the requirement to walk one’s bike in deference to others on the path. The discretion soon translates to a pitiful abuse, an all too poignant reminder of my evolving decomposition. Not to mention the embarrassment of debilitating age! In some instances the paths to the beach are narrow cement slabs which hardly sustain the traffic of one person.

In the result I have identified multiple obscure entrances at both the north and south ends of the Island, access points which will permit me to leave the bike path or quiet residential street and connect immediately with the beach.

Having a bike in tow is no disfavour at low tide or when not approaching the soft sand near the dunes. This however conflicts with the preference to repose on the soft sand rather than the flat firm sand near the sea. But it is an insurmountable obstruction which can only be resolved by accommodation. There appears to be no threat of leaving one’s possessions anywhere on the beach, coincident for example to a wander from the dunes over an extensive plateau into the sea and then even further upon the sea bed to acquaint oneself with the required depth for a plunge into the refreshing salt water. By some unwritten convention, privacy and possession are quiety observed. It is nothing to see personal items seemingly abandoned on the beach for prolonged periods of time.

I am attracted as usual to the binary – or should I say polar – alternatives at the north and south extremities of the immediate shoreline (that is, for my purposes, from Shipyard Beach to South Beach). From our residence at Harbour Town the nearer entrance is in the south end at Tower Beach where the effect of the tides (caused by the changing land mass) is to create a welcome and more volatile surf (though subject to a warning of strong undercurrent). It also tends to be less popular because it is not as accessible. My prediction is that I shall choose that site as well because it is within the gated community that is the Sea Pines Resort where we have as now traditionally located ourselves for residence, restaurants, shopping and gasoline. My familiarity here therefore endears itself.

For those unaccustomed to the beach on Hilton Head Island the prospect of swimming in the North Atlantic Ocean in early April is perhaps forbidding. What tranquillizes the venture is the expanse of beach which underlies the high tide. Obviously the limit of the beach is only discernible at low tide when one can see the infinite breadth of the beach. During the roughly six hours of high tide, the sea is comparatively low for that expanse of water; in return the sea is warmed by the dazzling sunshine. Having swum already in the sea in mid-March and late February I can attest that it is a discoverable exploit. Certainly it was brisk but frankly no less hospitable than the pool in December or January.

On the subject of the pool by the way, there are several objections arising.  One, walking there – even just getting around the edges from the entrance gate to a chaise longue – is a pain. And if I were to bicyle there from the apartment (a very short distance) I cannot bring my stick (at least not without looking absurd).  Two, children. The parents and their youngsters simply overtake the place. It is an indisputable – and wholly axiomatic – reminder of the superiority of family in the social network; viz., the one simply does not exist without the other. Gentility however instantly dissolves. They swarm about the pool making anything approaching laps preposterous; and the boisterous racquet is interminable. Three, even if you’re lucky enough to escape the constant blather of the families or to dismiss it as a television ad, the place is overrun with humanity.  Small wonder the vastness and tranquillity of the beach is preferred!

It would be deceitful of me to disregard the cosmetic element of my beach strategy.  Notwithstanding my inescapable lack of athleticism – either by conduct or image – I hope to preserve a semblance of vitality by rendering myself the colour of varnished oak. If I remain seated the task may be accomplished!

Excerpt From
Thomas Babington Macaulay Macaulay. “The History of England, from the Accession of James II — Volume 3.”