Carova...the land of beautiful uncrowded beaches, wild horses, and the Atlantic Ocean to the east...bordered by swampy snake filled canals on the west...a minor inconvenience that keeps the wussies of the vacation world back in Corolla where they can shop, dine, and play mini golf. This is not that kind of vacation spot. Carova is not a place for the feint of heart. Carova chicks are not afraid to get sandy, wet, or wind blown. If you have a place in Carova and you live in the Tidewater area of Virginia, chances are that you have traveled by skiff across the water from Pearl's "Marina" on Knotts Island . First let me tell you about Pearls Marina. Pearls is not really a marina in the sense that no one will watch your boat, prevent it from sinking, or save it from vandals. There is no place to buy souvenirs, there is no place to buy sweatshirts or anything you may need for your boat including gas or oil. The only thing you can get from this marina is ice and beer, and more beer. It is a place to dock your boat in a slip or launch it from a concrete launching pad. You are pretty much just trusting that it will be there when you get there and have faith in your fellow redneck...I mean man. At Pearls you are most likely to find bikers partying at the bar on premises and various labrador retrievers running around barking and jumping in and out of the sound and you will probably be lucky enough to have at least one dog shake water all over you while you are loading up your boat. If you are not a Knotts Island resident and you keep your boat at Pearls then you will also find dead snakes and empty beer cans in your boat. The local boys hate folks who invade their space. Hide you expensive trailer hitch and lock your car doors...I'm jes sayin'....
Anyone who has traveled to Carova by boat has gotten soaking wet in the process. We always judge those girly folks who hesitate to climb down into the boat especially if they have "luggage." You don't take luggage to Carova, you take a huge tote bag containing shorts. tank tops, t-shirts, a bathing suit and flip flops. You will not need a sundress and a curling iron, trust me. You also take a laundry basket full of "stuff" and groceries, 'cause you ain't gonna make two trips to get groceries. You take off from the dock and the spray hits you square in the face and not once do you wince or whine 'cause you know that you were headed toward beach paradise and a little brown brackish sound water in the face never hurt anyone. It actually feels good if you get over the fact that your hair is going to look like crap for the week and make-up is for shallow women who can't get the stick outta their hind quarters long enough to breathe the awesome salt air. Nothing makes my blood pressure settle and my heart sing more than standing on our steps, embedded in sand and sea oats, and listen to the surf, feel the cool breeze lift my hair and smell the salty perfume that is Carova. I especially love it when I can feel just the slightest spray of ocean water hit my cheeks...love it...nuttin' like it anywhere else. I live in Virginia Beach at the beach but it just doesn't match the Carolina coast. I think I need a trip to Carova as soon as the weather cooperates...my body is craving salt and sea spray. I need to feel that tight warm feeling I get when I've had just a touch too much sun, knowing that I look so much better with a nice 1977 tan...
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