Play's the thing

Making par or dinner, paddling or pedaling, biking or baby-sitting . . .

August 01, 2010|Shira Springer, Globe Staff

KIAWAH ISLAND, S.C. — Persuading my father to give his golf swing a rest was the easy part. Mastering the basics of the “butt wiggle’’ was another matter.

The butt wiggle is a move designed to free kayakers stuck in briny, suction-cup-strength mud. As demonstrated by our guide, it looked like an awkward, butt-propelled bouncing from side to side. But for all its comic qualities, the wiggle worked with surprising efficiency, gently rocking stranded kayaks loose and saving our trip from a permanent stall at low tide.

Wiggling and paddling past a landscape covered in green and gold spartina grass, we spotted egrets and watched crabs scurry away. At high tide when water levels rise four to six feet, our guide said dolphins swim past.

By the end of our two-hour tour, my father was an exhausted expert in the butt wiggle. He had tried kayaking for the first time in the spirit of father-daughter bonding. I appreciated his enthusiasm and good humor as he zig-zagged between muddy creek banks. He butt wiggled. I laughed. It was one of many activities where members of my family — my parents in their 60s; my sister, brother-in-law, and I in our 30s; and my 15-month-old nephew — entertained one another.

Kiawah Island, rightly promoted as a golfer’s paradise, was a risky vacation choice for a family with one avid regular golfer (my father) and one enthusiastic yet infrequent golfer (my brother-in-law). The non-golfers (the women) worried that the powerful draw of world-class courses would set the daily schedule. We all wondered whether easy access to golf, beaches, bike trails, kayak tours, and Charleston’s shops and history would pull us in different directions.

Upon arriving at Charleston International Airport, it became clear our vacation would be an unpredictable adventure with multigenerational considerations and complications. For starters, a car rental mix-up left my sister and brother-in-law with an ill-fitting car seat, stranding them in the airport parking lot for over an hour in 90-degree heat. Next, we had to adjust to close living quarters that were not childproofed. My nephew had introduced a new dynamic, which we carefully negotiated with two rental cars, a condo equipped with crib and high chair, and plenty of patience.

We quickly learned that tee times and toddler whims are impossible to coordinate. Any semblance of a daily schedule revolved around my nephew. Thankfully, Kiawah’s many offerings helped us stay flexible without feeling shortchanged, though we passed on lengthy scheduled excursions such as fishing trips, sunset cruises, and plantation tours.

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