You know what’s great about taking the travel trailer to the beach? The nightly cost is $50 versus $200. The low cost combined with homeschooling and telecommuting means we got to stay 12 days this year! My dream and Hubs’ nightmare. I love, love, love the beach while Hubs tolerates it since he loves me.

That may be the reason he didn’t listen to me when it came time to pull the trailer home.

“You need to turn left.”

Hubs grinned and turned right.

“You can’t go this way! The only way to get off the island this way is by the ferry.”

He smiled bigger. All three boys looked to the front of the van. Oldest sat up taller. “You’re not really taking this thing over the ferry are you?”

“Sure, why not?”

The van was silent as Hubs pulled it into a loading lane at the ferry dock. The workers guided all 50-or-so-feet of us onto one entire side of the ferry and loaded the other cars onto the opposite side.  One look into the driver’s seats of nearby cars revealed riders staring back with horrified expressions.

And Hubs smiled.

The short trek started out okay, but when that cocky grin suddenly slid off Hub’s lips I spun around to see a titanic-sized ship barreling up the pass … right where we were. The ferry engines started making a grinding noise as the captain rushed to reverse our progress.

It’s a harrowing experience, sitting in a van attached to a trailer floating on a ferry in the middle of the Aransas Pass only feet from a boat the size of planet traveling fast enough to blow a breeze through your hair.

Good memories.

Thankfully, we didn’t crash. Or sink. We lived to tell another tale.

And there will be more.

Because I’m married to a madman.

traileronferry

Who does this?