One of my most treasured beach house traditions is steamer pot night. We crowd around the table, devour as much seafood as humanly possible, drink grapefruity sauvignon blanc to wash it down, use an absurd amount of napkins (silverware is frowned upon on steamer pot night), dip everything in melted butter, and chant my uncle Bill's name as he finishes up the last of it, after (what seems like) hours of eating.
Then at sunset, we climb the dunes.
Then we go home, eat cake, dance in the living room, laugh until our stomachs hurt, sleep for a few hours, wake up, ride bikes, drink mimosas at sunrise, and repeat.
I love beach life.