Hilton Head Island, South Carolina: Act III

The final Act of the HHI vacation is Hilton Head Island, SC.

We stayed in Sea Pines this year.  If that means anything to you, I should congratulate you.  All it meant to us what that each time we ventured outside of Sea Pines it took an extra 30 minutes to get back. 

Kind of a pain, really.

The rental was nice.  The aforementioned pool and a convenient little "bait-and-switch" known as an inoperable hot tub.  Fortunately, there was no charge on the latter. 

You know things aren't going well for fixing it when the contractors they hire to repair the thing refuse to acknowledge you and disguise their incompetence in a foreign language.

Don't know what was going to be accomplished in said hot tub with a heat index approaching 110 degrees, but I'm sure it probably would have killed someone.

Anyway, that was not the only flirtation with a form of vacation disaster. 

There were several near misses.

Roughly two hours after acquiring access to the rental, we nearly burned the mother-F-er down.

Yep.  You heard me.

Miami of Ohio Spring Formals have nothing on the Holmans.

All I will say to protect the identity of the perpetrator is to say that you should never, ever "warm" a cardboard pizza box in an unfamiliar oven and you should never, ever leave it unattended.

Sadly, those involved were sober at the time.  Happily, one of them doubles as a pirate and literally pulled the flaming boxes out of the oven with his/her bare hands.

Even recreation within the vacation had notable hazards.

Bill and I played the Sea Pines Ocean Course with an early morning tee time.  First tee, second shot.  Bill leaves the golf cart near his ball and a murky, but harmless looking lagoon.  I jump out of the cart and nearly step onto a 15 foot alligator resting nearby. 

Never saw the damn thing. 

Probably should have. 

After all, it's a F-ing ALLIGATOR!

I'm not good at golf, but do you really need a live alligator as a playing hazard?

Luckily, it was Bill who had to swing near the thing.

I needed a change of underwear and had 17 more holes to walk it off.

As an aside, it's too hot to play golf in August in SC.  It's also too hot to drink beers while golfing in SC.  Our other half -- we were joined by a Pittsburgher and the poor bastard who married into a Steeler family on the links -- consumed four beers apiece.  It was in the 90's with a dew point plus 80 degrees.

I marveled at their stupidity ability.

Billy and I managed to choke down a few despite the intolerable conditions. 

We're Holmans. 

Skipping on...

The swimmers, the involuntary divers and the rest.

(Dig Bro-ham's Dog Paddle)

Henry and Caroline at dusk.

Maura and Caroline celebrating the spoils of involuntary promise keeping.

Just the three four of us.

What happens when yentas start snapping pictures.

Maddy gives a thumbs up to phony pink eye outbreaks.

You'd be on your ass too if you were hot, pregnant and miserable!

Joey and Mommy assume the beach position.

Crocs calendar 2011.

Why I locked my door each night.

Did someone say Noodle Rainbow?

Shortly before switching her to the basket.

Billy and the Boogie Boarder.

Okay, so the credits have run on another HHI vacation and you're still here. 

Let's close this thing out with a set of quick hits on HHI - 2010.

1.  Likes:  Mellow Mushroom Pizza, the unburnt version of Giuseppi's Pizza; Grouper - day one and two; Yuengling Beer; 813-402; our new Facebook catchphrase "....I didn't sign up for this one! LOL!;  and air conditioning.

2.  Dislikes:  Grouper - every day thereafter; Bill's leprosy poison ivy issues; damage waivers; jellyfish; zealous garbage collectors; and being stupid.

3.  I've been trying for three years to get the family into the ultimate tourist trap on HHI -- the Salty Dog Cafe. 

This year, we finally made it. 

Guess what?  It sucked.  

Go figure. 

Maybe twenty tables.  A one hour wait for lunch.  Pub grub disguised as haute cuisine?

I had grouper.  Thanks for asking. 

But the tee shirts are cool aren't they?

A webcam can prove our ability to check this one off the list.

That's me at the bar stool and me Bill in my shirt with the red hat on the official Salty Dog Webcam. 

Notice the thermometer reading. 

Great golf weather, eh?

It's not a sunset, it's a sunrise.

See you next year, HHI.