Confession: One summer I read eight books during a six-day beach trip. This illustrates my typical vacation activity level.
My inner bookworm thinks this is awesome. My inner adventuress, however, says this is lame. So when my 12- year-old son, Jacob, and I have the opportunity to attend family WB Surf Camp in Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina, I tell the bookworm to put a sock in it.
For five days, we wake up at 7 a.m., pull on our suits, apply sunscreen, and head to Public Access #4 north of Johnny Mercer’s Pier. Every morning, we learn a little more about the “sport of Hawaiian kings” and a little more about ourselves. It turns out both Jacob and I are capable of so much more than we had ever imagined.