Selena 
Travel
Habeas Corpus
Is Corpus Christi merely the gateway to the Gulf or a worthy tourist destination itself? Consider the evidence.
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No sooner had we stepped off the ramp than the boys made a beeline for some rock pilings by the water and commenced to do what boys do best. Putting some of what they had seen at the aquarium to good use, they scrounged around the tidal pools in the rocks while I waited on the patio of the Pier 99 Restaurant (2822 N. Shoreline, 512-887-0764), listening to tourists speak Swedish and British-English at adjoining tables. (Corpus really has changed.) Looking left and right, I realized that the area around the aquarium and the Lex had turned into a clean and well-lit though ever-so-slightly tawdry tourist mecca with shell shops, condos, budget motels, a go-cart track, a miniature golf course, outdoor palapas where you can imbibe brightly colored alcoholic drinks served in oversized glasses, and even a sandy beach. The boys emerged from the rock pilings half an hour later. They needed a cup. Jake had found a sea anemone and wanted to keep it.
After weakly voicing parental objections (hey, it was a vacation, and I’m a pushover), we drove back across the Harbor Bridge to the bay front and checked into a hotel. I chose the Marriott (900 N. Shoreline, 800-228-9290) over the Sheraton (707 N. Shoreline, 800-325-3535)—the city’s only first-class hotels—because I had been quoted a special off-season rate of $69 for a room that is normally $129. Before I had even set our bags down, Jake and Matthew had strapped on their in-line skates and were effortlessly gliding up and down the seawall, a massive expanse of concrete within a block or two of several skate- and bike-rental concessions. They kept at it until dark, while Andy and I sat on a bench watching a colorful parade of characters pass by and oohing and aahing at ships and boats in the bay.
If I were dining in Corpus alone or with other adults, I’d normally go for the catch of the day at the Water Street Seafood Company (309 N. Water, 512-882-8683) or Elmo’s City Diner (622 N. Water, 512-883-1643) or perhaps try the emu poorboy special at Eli’s Eclectic Eatery (415 N. Water, 512-884-3547), all within walking distance of the Marriott. Given my company, I held my tongue and hightailed it to Pizza Hut (2120 S. Staples, 512-883-3669). Then we headed back to the hotel—a good thing, because I was whipped. Unfortunately, the boys were ready for serious battle; armed with plastic guns and crossbows, they fought in the hotel room, in the hallway, and over my prone body. Around midnight, having sufficiently vanquished one another, they finally went to bed.
After breakfast the next morning, we thought about renting an extra pair of in-line skates, but it looked like rain. So we drove instead to the T-heads and L-heads, where we inspected the shrimp boats, fishing boats, some rather outrageous sailing yachts, a seaworthy replica of Christopher Columbus’ Niña, and all the cool jet-skis for rent. We then headed north a few blocks to the Corpus Christi Museum of Science and History (1900 N. Chaparral, 512-883-2862). Along with the Bayfront Plaza Convention Center, the Harbor Playhouse, the Xeriscape Learning Center and Design Garden, and the block of restored Victorian mansions on Chaparral Street, the museum is part of an area known as the Bayfront Arts and Science Park, and it looked nothing like it did eight years ago, which is when I was last there. Instead of gnarly stuffed animals in static display cases, the place has gone interactive with computers and computer games integrated into exhibits on the local environment, native wildlife, shipwrecks, petroleum refining, and paleontology. The presentations on hurricanes and the reptiles of South Texas were especially engaging.
As part of the admission price ($8 for adults, $7 for students 13—17, $4 for kids 6—12), we got to walk through the Columbus fleet—full-size replicas of the Pinta and the Santa Maria built in Spain for the 500th anniversary of the explorer’s famous voyage across the Atlantic. I wasn’t worked up about seeing knockoffs up close, but the guide got me interested. She brought the sailing vessels to life by offering step-by-step descriptions of how the replicas were built, intimate details about the original ships’ histories, and gossipy tales of how Columbus felt about them (he loved captaining the Niña, the most seaworthy of the three boats, and loathed the Pinta).
After a while, the boys and I went outside and messed around the Waterwall sculpture garden and darted inside the Art Museum of South Texas (1902 N. Shoreline, 512-884-3844), a white edifice designed by architect Philip Johnson. Then we headed back to the science and history museum so Andy could play a computerized fishing game and Jake and Matthew could test their navigational skills by steering toy sailboats on wheels powered by fans. I sauntered through the Smith-sonian Seeds of Change exhibit—which chronicles the history of plant exchanges between Europe and the Americas after Columbus—and recreations of storefronts in old Corpus Christi.
Almost two hours had passed before the first whimper signaling hunger and/or loss of interest reached my ears. It was time for lunch. I would have chosen Jeron’s Tea Room (1521 N. Chaparral, 512-882-1939), a block down the street in the Merriman-Bobys house, the city’s second oldest building and one of nine historic homes in Heritage Park, but they wanted to go back to the Lex. We returned to the back deck of Pier 99 and ordered fried shrimp and burgers and gazed at the aircraft carrier. While waiting to be served, Jake fetched his cup and returned the sea anemone, which the boys had named Fred, back to its habitat. Well, they had learned something at the aquarium after all, I said to myself with no small amount of satisfaction.
We finished eating and then drove half a mile to an empty stretch of Corpus Christi Beach by the Best Western Sandy Shores (3200 Surfside, 512-883-7456). There the boys cut loose. The beach was clean and the air smelled salty; the only downside was the weather—it was downright chilly. But the boys weren’t intimidated. For an hour, they managed to frolic in the sand, get their clothes wet, throw sand at each other, get even wetter, and then unload the aforementioned sand all over the car seat and floor just in time for the ride home. It was a mess, but I didn’t give them too much grief. We had run out of time before we could do everything they wanted. “Couldn’t we stay just one more day?” “We didn’t get to walk or rent a jet-ski or take a boat ride or rent a yacht.” “We haven’t gone on the dolphin watch.” “I want to ride go-carts. I want to play mini-golf. We want to Rollerblade some more.”
It was easy to say no, knowing that they were expected home. But their pleas for more time were music to my ears. Evidently, there was enough on the bay front and the beach to warrant another trip. For the next few hours, they snored blissfully. But more than that, something else told me they really had a good time in Corpus: They never mentioned South Padre once.
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