In giddy anticipation of any upcoming OBX trip, we would always shout to each other, "Yo-BX!" There was a time when we went to the Outer Banks every year. We haven't been back since Hurricane Sandy, but I remember the last time we were there an even littler storm forged new inlets and little creeks of salt water within the lower islands. The Outer Banks is pristinely beautiful, home of absurdly good coffee and the kindest folks. The dunes roll and at night I remember wondering about the legend of Virginia Dare and other ghostly stories of the Atlantic as the wind brought in the salty air. Wine on the deck, fried chicken for dinner, and reckless mystery junkets to Ocracoke happen to be my favorite memories and tastes. I loved peering over the sides of the ferry, half fearful that we will sink with the weight of all the cars, half excited like a child at the sight of dolphins or even a wave from a passing speedboat. Those ferries spur such wonder - one year, we got stuck til 2am because we missed the last one out. Another time, an RV rolled on deck and I honestly thought we would sink. This particular year, yours truly got to steer the ferry. Don't ask me how, but somehow I found myself in the captain's seat - one of the highlights of my life!