April Fools?

Dear Friends,

Spring has arrived at the Pelican, and with it our favorite excuse to pull back the curtain on the particular brand of chaos that keeps life here so wonderfully interesting. 

In the spirit of the season (and as a belated April Fools' treat), we offer you this - a brief, entirely true, and only slightly embarrassing account of life behind the scenes. 

Happy April from our family to yours.

There was the time Corinne stopped the car in the middle of South Causeway to scoop a squalling baby raccoon into a liquor box, determined to reunite him with his mother in the woods. Cars were honking. The kids were hollering "Ellie Mae" from the back seat. They were equal parts mortified and quietly devastated that she didn't just keep him.

 There was the time a fox set her sights on a sea turtle nest on the beach, and Corinne held her at bay with a beach towel, full matador stance, until the turtle walkers arrived to secure the nest. No further comment needed. But we did create some deviled eggs to commemorate the event.

There was the time Bruce assured everyone the dock was perfectly fine, then escorted the contractor out for a look, whereupon the dock slowly, gracefully, and without a great deal of drama deposited them both into the marsh. They stood there in hip-deep water and carried on their conversation without missing a beat. The dock, they agreed, was fine.

There was the time the spigot blew clean off the beach walk and produced a genuinely impressive geyser. And then the time the very same thing happened on the dock. We have since developed strong opinions about spigots.

There was the time the pantry ceiling gave up entirely during the middle of the season. Corinne spent a solid hour on her hands and knees cleaning up plaster and lathe, and when she finally stood back to admire her work, she decided to turn the fan on to dry the floor. Five more pounds of debris promptly fell off the blades directly onto her head. She emerged looking, by all accounts, like a New Guinea tribesman. The pantry, at least, was dry.

And let not forget… 

There was the time Corinne forgot to put sugar in the fudge pies for a full dining room and they were… well - not great. Our guests were too lovely to say anything but fortunately there was a back up ice cream to substitute. 

There was the time we googled how to clean a fish for a guest. The Sheephead just got mad when the cleaver bounced off of him. There were fish scales on the ceiling and the fans and all over Corinne. He was delicious though. 

There was the time we went to bed and left a group of our guests up shooting tequila. The shot glasses fell down into the disposal and split that sucker in half. We didn’t know whether to be mad or impressed.

If there's a through line to all of this  - the dock, the raccoon, the fudge pie, the disposal, and yes, the ceiling - it's that we genuinely love what happens here. 

The people, the mess, the beautiful unpredictability of a place like the Pelican. We keep showing up because you keep showing up, and that means everything to us.

Here's to spring, to second chances, and to whatever April has waiting just around the next corner. We are, as always, ready. See you soon…