How NOT To Celebrate Your Child’s First Birthday or An Adventure on OBX’s 4×4 Beach – Part II

Read Part I

I’m pretty sure as Chris was driving down the hill, toward the water, he was envisioning some sort of Jeep commercial in his head, possibly even in slow motion, with classic rock playing in the background. The truck hitting the water with such force that the two front tires would rise from the ground, like a bucking bronco, or maybe even one of the wild horses we had just admired by the beach. We would leave the pond with thick slabs of mud covering our white truck, laying witness that we were badass four-wheelers, us high-fiving each other, the kids pumping their fists into the air in triumph (yes, even the baby) and we would drive into the sunset to go pick-up our duck-shaped cake.

It didn’t go quite like that. I will never forget the yellow-green wave that swept over the car when we drove into the pond. It caught me off guard – I wasn’t expecting there to be so much water – and after it swept over the windshield and the hood, I immediately felt dripping on my flip-flopped foot. To be clear, the truck never actually got stuck, the engine simply stalled once it was inundated with water; however, we were no longer moving.

After the initial shock of what just happened began to wear off, I poked my head out my window and, with relief, saw that the water was not above the bottom of the door, barely. Initially we all just sat there, our stunned silence accompanied by pleasant ocean sounds coming from beyond the dunes, then Ash, our eleven year-old asked if we were going to die. After a few minutes, Chris tried starting the engine. Nothing. He tried two more times before hearing a loud bang. At that point he, wisely, decided to stop trying; fully coming to terms that we weren’t going anywhere soon (we later found out that bang was a rod flying through our engine block).

We were in the in the middle of nowhere, with a car full of children, an eleven year-old still asking if we were going to die, and, almost predictably, no cell reception whatsoever. So, Chris decided to look for higher ground. Not knowing how deep or mucky the water was, he made his exit through the sunroof and onto the hood, where he made the small leap from the car to the dry sand bed in front of us. As my husband stood on a hill in the distance with his phone high over his head, a large pick-up truck rolled up next to us. I rolled down the window to hear, “You should have never driven down the middle.” This brings me to my first lesson on four-wheeling through water:

1. NEVER DRIVE DOWN THE MIDDLE

I observed when the driver made his way across this water he had skirted the edge steadily and very slowly, and he was now parked in front of us (his motor still running). This leads me to my second lesson:

2.   DRIVE VERY SLOWLY WHEN ENTERING WATER

Thank God for us that this particular driver showed up, because we really were very literally in the middle of nowhere. He was a “local” and had a phone that got cell reception; furthermore, he had friends in the towing business and was a good guy all around. After talking to us for a minute, making sure we were okay, he drove over to where my husband was trying to find a signal, and they discussed man stuff for a bit before he drove off. When my husband got back to us, he said it would be some time before the tow truck would come and we should all get out of the truck. The girls did not want to get wet in what was now oily muddy water (another sign that our truck was doomed), so we all left through the sunroof (yes, even the baby) onto the hood and made leaps from the hood to the sand bed. While we waited, the girls enjoyed themselves playing in the sand and reliving the experience. We even got to chat with a group of people that were driving by trying to find their rental who, very wisely, decided to try another route after seeing our predicament. In general, our spirits were high, we had good insurance, and help was on the way.

Malin tries to escape!

The tow truck from North Beach Recovery came about 30 minutes after we’d placed the call (jot that name down in case you’re ever stuck in the north beaches of the OBX, they’re awesome).  The group consisted of two men and two boys, about 11-12 years old. The tow truck sat on semi-flat tires so that it could navigate through the sand more easily and had a cab in the back for folks whose cars were hitched up in the rear. Chase, the owner, immediately started working on prepping the tow truck to haul our Jeep out of the water. His buddy came over to chat with us and gave us our next lesson in four-wheeling through water:

3.  WHEN IN DOUBT, WALK IT OUT

He then took his son over to our truck, both wading through the oil-slicked water, where he started pointing to his knees and his son’s knees, the water covering both sets, and he yelled back our final lesson:

4.  IF THE WATER REACHES YOUR KNEE, LET IT BE

After the Jeep was pulled from the water onto dry land, the air was partially let out of the tires, and  we all piled into the cab of the tow truck; Malin strapped into her infant seat set next to me, Liv sitting on my lap, Britney Spears style, with the two older girls wedged in between us. The Jeep was pulled only a short distance, just to the beach and out of the dunes and residential area, where it was left to be later picked up on a bed. Liv’s car seat was put on the back of the tow truck and held in place by the two boys who also rode in the back. I didn’t like leaving the Jeep abandoned with the Thule still on top and several little belongings we didn’t think about taking, but there was nothing else we could do.  The guys from North Beach Recovery gave us a lift back into Corolla, which was as far as they could take us in a tow truck meant to be on the sand, and dropped us off in front of a Winks market adjacent to a little building that had a beer garden (which was closed, boo) that hosted a gondola and benches for us to sit. The guys also gave us the number of a taxi company we could call – the only company servicing Corolla and Duck. We soon found out that Duck Taxi consisted of a fleet of three cars, one of which was being serviced, and the other two were in high demand due to weddings and other reservations. We were told our wait would be about 2 hours. If you can believe it, up to this point, I actually had held hope that we could pick up Malin’s cake, head back to our rental in Duck and have some sort of small celebration for her.

I love our girls and how patient they were throughout this entire ordeal. Lo, our 15 year-old had a stash of books with her and her phone, which kept her occupied throughout the entire afternoon. Ash, our 11 year-old took Liv exploring through the beer garden and the Winks Market. It was an excruciating two hours and we kept accosting anyone that drove up in anything that remotely resembled a taxi, asking if they had come to pick us up. We finally were picked up around 4pm and made it back to our house by 4:30pm.  With no cake to celebrate and no energy to grill, we ordered pizza and told the girls to get their suits on and get into the pool. Malin was none the wiser that her birthday had not gone as planned and had a wonderful time splashing the evening away with her big sisters (somewhere in there, I think we even sang her Happy Birthday and gave her her stuffie presents).

Happy Birthday Sweet Baby!

We ended up driving home after our vacation in my car and a rental car. The insurance company determined our truck was salvageable, and after a lot of bargaining and reasoning with them, they agreed to tow it as far north as Richmond, VA, where the engine was replaced (this was a huge help, as we only had to drive three hours to pick it up instead of six). A month after our vacation, we finally had our truck back.

I’m not too sure about our future as four-wheeling badasses, but I do know that for Malin’s second birthday, that little girl is going to have one hell of a celebration…or, at least, a duck-shaped cake.